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THE  DARK  AGES; 


A  SERIES  OF  ESSAYS, 

INTENDED  TO  ILLUSTRATE   THE 

STATE  OF  RELIGION  AND  LITERATURE 

IN    THE 

NINTH,  TENTH,  ELEVENTH,  AND  TWELFTH 
CENTURIES. 

REPRINTED  FROM  "THE  BRITISH  MAGAZINE,"  WITH  CORRECTIONS 
AND  SOME  ADDITIONS. 


BY   THE 


REV.  S.  R.  MAITLAND,  F.R.S.  &  F.S.A 

LIBRARIAN  TO  HIS  GRACE  THE  ARCHBISHOP  OF  CANTERBURY, 
AND    KEEPER    OF    THE    MSS.    AT    LAMBETH. 


SECOND   EDITION. 


LONDON: 

FRANCIS  &  JOHN  RIVINGTOX, 
st.   Paul's  church  yard,   and  avaterloo  place, 

184-5. 


LONDON  : 

oilbert  and  rivington,  printers, 
st.  John's  square. 


PREFACE 


TO    THE 


FIRST    EDITION. 


Nearly  eight  years  have  elapsed  since  the  first  of 
the  following  essays  was  printed ;  and  they  have  all 
been  more  than  five  years  before  the  public.  I  wish 
the  reader  to  be  aware  of  this,  not  onlv  because  it 
may  account  for  some  references  to  matters  which 
occurred  during  the  period  of  their  publication,  but 
because  it  will  show  that  some  things  which  may  wear 
that  appearance,  are  not  in  reality  allusions  to  more 
recent  occurrences. 

My  purpose  in  these  essays,  I  stated  very  fully  at 
the  outset ;  and  the  collateral  objects  which  I  had  in 
view,  I  mentioned  as  occasion  offered.  I  need  not, 
therefore,  here  tell  the  reader  over  again  what  I  meant 
in  writing  them  ;  but  I  do  not  like  that  this  reprint 
should  issue  without  a  few  words  of  distinct  statement 
as  to  what  I  did  not  mean.  It  is  possible  that  I  may 
have  been  misunderstood ;  though  I  think  that  no  one 
who  fairly  and  candidly  reads  these  essays  can  imagine 
that  I  designed  to  hold  up  to  imitation  what  has, 
since  I  wrote  them,  been  much  talked  of  as  "  the 
mediaeval  system."  As  to  some  superstitions  and 
heresies,  and  a  thousand  puerilities,  which  seem  likely 

a  2 


IV  PREFACE. 

to  creep  into  the  Church  under  that  name,  I  do  not 
feel  it  necessary  to  say  anything.  I  have  never,  I  hope, 
written  a  line  which  the  most  ingenious  perversion 
could  construe  into  a  recommendation  or  even  a  tole- 
ration of  them.  But  there  is  one  great  feature  of  the 
mediaeval  system  of  which  I  feel,  and  of  which  I  have 
spoken,  very  differently,  and  in  terms  which  may  have 
been,  though  I  can  hardly  think  that  they  really  have 
been,  misunderstood. 

It  is  quite  impossible  to  touch  the  subject  of 
Monasticism  without  rubbing  off  some  of  the  dirt 
which  has  been  heaped  upon  it.  It  is  impossible  to 
get  even  a  superficial  knowledge  of  the  mediaeval 
history  of  Europe,  without  seeing  how  greatly  the 
world  of  that  period  was  indebted  to  the  Monastic 
Orders  ;  and  feeling  that,  whether  they  were  good  or 
bad  in  other  matters,  monasteries  were  beyond  all 
price  in  those  days  of  misrule  and  turbulence,  as  places 
where  (it  may  be  imperfectly,  yet  better  than  else- 
where) God  was  worshipped — as  a  quiet  and  religious 
refuge  for  helpless  infancy  and  old  age,  a  shelter  of 
respectful  sympathy  for  the  orphan  maiden  and  the 
desolate  widow — as  central  points  whence  agriculture 
was  to  spread  over  bleak  hills,  and  barren  downs,  and 
marshy  plains,  and  deal  its  bread  to  millions  perishing 
with  hunger  and  its  pestilential  train — as  repositories 
of  the  learning  which  then  was,  and  well-springs  for 
the  learning  which  was  to  be — as  nurseries  of  art  and 
science,  giving  the  stimulus,  the  means,  and  the 
reward  to  invention,  and  aggregating  around  them 
every  head  that  could  devise,  and  every  hand  that 
could  execute — as   the  nucleus   of  the   city  which   in 


PREFACE.  V 

after-days  of  pride  should  crown  its  palaces  and  bul- 
warks with  the  towering  cross  of  its  cathedral. 

This  I  think  no  man  can  deny.  I  believe  it  is  true, 
and  I  love  to  think  of  it.  I  hope  that  I  see  the  good 
hand  of  God  in  it,  and  the  visible  trace  of  his  mercy 
that  is  over  all  his  works.  But  if  it  is  only  a  dream, 
however  grateful,  I  shall  be  glad  to  be  awakened  from 
it;  not  indeed  by  the  yelling  of  illiterate  agitators, 
but  by  a  quiet  and  sober  proof  that  I  have  misunder- 
stood the  matter.  In  the  mean  time,  let  me  thank- 
fully believe  that  thousands  of  the  persons  at  whom 
Robertson,  and  Jortin,  and  other  such  very  miserable 
second-hand  writers,  have  sneered,  were  men  of 
enlarged  minds,  purified  affections,  and  holy  lives — 
that  they  were  justly  reverenced  by  men — and,  above 
all,  favourably  accepted  by  God,  and  distinguished  by 
the  highest  honour  which  He  vouchsafes  to  those  whom 
He  has  called  into  existence,  that  of  being  the  channels 
of  his  love  and  mercy  to  their  fellow-creatures. 

But  admitting  all  this,  does  it  form  any  reason  why 
we  should  endeavour  to  revive  the  monastic  system  in 
the  present  day,  and  in  this  country  ?  This  is  a  thing 
which  has  been  very  seriously  proposed,  and  for  which 
much  that  is  specious  may  be  said,  without  any  viola- 
tion of  truth  or  fairness.  But  is  it  a  proposition  which 
should  be  listened  to  ?  Is  it,  in  fact,  one  that  can  be 
carried  into  effect  ?  Many  others  have,  I  suppose, 
as  well  as  myself,  received  a  circular  letter,  bearing  no 
name,  but  supposed  to  emanate  from  persons  entitled 
to  respect,  and  headed  "  Revival  of  monastic  and  con- 
ventual institutions  on  a  plan  adapted  to  the  exigen- 
cies of  the  reformed  Catholic  Church  in  England." 


VI  PREFACE. 

After  a  brief  statement  of  what  are  considered  as 
the  objects,  the  means,  and  the  constitution,  the  writer 
proceeds  to  say,  "  It  is  hoped  and  earnestly  requested 
that  the  friends  of  primitive  piety,  order,  and  simpli- 
city, into  whose  hands  this  paper  may  fall,  will  contri- 
bute their  thoughts  and  endeavours  towards  expanding 
these  hints,  and  devising  some  method  of  bringing 
them  to  a  practical  issue."  No  channel  for  the  con- 
tribution of  thoughts  is,  however,  pointed  out :  but,  for 
the  reason  which  I  have  already  stated,  I  wish  to  say 
something  on  the  subject ;  and  I  will  take  the  oppor- 
tunity of  offering  some  which  have  occurred  to  me ; 
and  I  venture  to  hope,  that,  being  fully  convinced  that 
the  suggestion  cannot  be  brought  to  any  good  "  prac- 
tical issue,"  I  may  be  allowed  to  say  so  plainly,  and 
without  offence.  I  have  no  wish  to  dogmatize  on  the 
subject,  but,  on  the  other  hand,  I  know  not  how  to 
speak  of  it  with  doubt  or  hesitation,  and  therefore 
wish  to  say,  as  decidedly  as  may  be  lawful,  that 
the  "monastic  and  conventual  system"  never  can  be 
adapted  to  meet  the  present  exigencies  of  the  Church 
of  England ;  and  that  any  attempt  to  revive  that  sys- 
tem in  this  time  and  country,  can  only  prove  a  sad  and 
mischievous  failure. 

When  I  say  this,  I  do  not  mean  to  dispute  that  it 
would  be  easy  to  make  a  plan  and  raise  money  for  the 
building,  and  even  for  the  endowment,  of  a  monastery, 
and  to  settle  all  the  details  on  paper ;  or  to  deny  that 
a  sufficient  number  of  very  good  men  might  be  found 
to  inhabit  it,  on  such  terms  as  those  who  might  have 
the  settling  of  the  matter  would  venture  to  propose. 
A    few  such  institutions   might,  we    may    believe,    be 


PREFACE.  Vll 

founded,  and  carried  on  for  a  longer  or  a  shorter  period. 
There  is  such  variety  in  the  minds  and  feelings  of  men, 
that  such  a  scheme  (indeed  any  scheme  that  had  so 
much  of  both  antiquity  and  novelty  to  recommend  it) 
would  immediately  find  supporters  enough  to  keep  it 
up  for  some  little  time,  and  a  fresh  supply  of  others  to 
keep  it  up  for  some  little  time  longer. 

But  even  this  must  be  done  by  *  adaptation,'  as  will 
be  seen  bv  the  heading  of  the  letter  which  I  have 
quoted  ;  or  according  to  the  language  used  in  the  body 
of  that  document,  the  proposal  is  for  the  "  Revival  of 
the  Monastic  and  Conventual  System  in  a  form  suited 
to  the  genius,  character,  and  exigencies  of  the  Church 
of  England."  But  really  this  is  (to  use  plain  terms, 
which  I  hope  will  not  offend,  for  I  know  of  no  others 
to  express  my  meaning,)  mere  playing  at  monkery ;  if 
not  quite  like  children  playing  at  soldiers,  yet  some- 
thing not  much  beyond  the  customary  show  and  ser- 
vice of  our  rural  militia.  Anything  like  real  monas- 
ticism,  anything  for  which  the  use  of  such  terms  as 
"  The  Monastic  and  Conventual  System"  is  not 
a  most  unwarrantable  and  delusive  usurpation,  any- 
thing really  calculated  to  produce  its  advantages,  such  as 
they  were,  or  even  such  of  them  as  are  wanted  or  could 
be  desired,  in  these  days — an  attempt  to  revive  anything 
that  can  fairly  be  called  the  Monastic  and  Conventual 
System,  on  a  scale  of  any  magnitude  and  permanence, 
must,  I  think,  tail,  for  want  of  one  great  thing — that 
thing  on  which,  by  the  Divine  appointment,  it  flourished, 
while  it  did  flourish,  as  truly  as  man  lives  by  the  air  he 
breathes — namelw    that   concurrence    of   men's   minds 


Vlll  PREFACE. 

which  forming  what  is  called  the  Spirit  of  the  Age 
w^ants,  desires,  imagines,  carries  forward  its  own  schemes, 
irresistibly  bears  down  opposition,  creates,  protects,  uses, 
and  then,  in  its  progress,  neglects,  disowns,  and  tram- 
ples down  its  old  institutions,  and  knows  no  use  in 
their  ruins  but  to  furnish  quarries  or  foundations  for 
new  ones. 

It  seems  to  me  that  we  can  no  more  revive  the 
Monastic  System  than  the  Feudal  System.  We  can- 
not recal  the  days  of  ancient  republicanism,  or  mediaeval 
chivalry.  The  French  republic  was  tragic  enough  ;  but 
who  does  not  feel, — who,  except  the  lowest  and  weak- 
est of  the  wretches  whom  it  was  meant  to  impose  on, 
did  not  feel  at  the  time, — that  all  its  archaism  was 
purely  farcical  ?  Why  could  not  the  French  have  what 
Greece  and  Rome  had  had,  if  they  liked  ?  Simply 
for  the  same  reason  that  it  could  not  be  dealt  with 
as  a  matter  of  solemn  propriety,  if  the  Duke  of  Wel- 
lington should  go  down  to  the  house  in  complete 
armour,  or  if  Julius  Caesar  should  tread  the  stage  in  a 
field-marshal's  uniform.  And  why  cannot  we  have  tour- 
naments as  our  forefathers  had  ?  Why  was  the  attempt 
to  hold  one,  a  few  years  ago,  so  laughed  at  that  the 
experiment  has  not  been  repeated  ?  Why  is  that  ridi- 
culous now,  which  was  honourable  and  almost  sacred 
four  hundred  years  ago  ?  Why  may  not  our  nobles 
amuse  themselves  as  their  ancestors  did,  without  being 
laughed  at  ?  I  am  not  expressing  any  wish  for  the 
revival  of  such  a  pastime ;  but  merely  asking  why  the 
attempt  to  revive  it  is  considered  as  actually  absurd, 
and  whether  it  is  because  the  tiling  itself  is  so  very 


PREFACE.  IX 

much  less  dignified  and  worthy  of  great  men,  and  so 
very  much  more  ridiculous  in  itself  than  a  horse-race,  a 
fox-chase,  or  a  steeple-hunt. 

I  shall  be  told  that  the  state  of  society  is  so  different. 
I  know  it.  It  is  just  what  I  am  saying.  Why  it  should 
differ,  and  differ  in  that  particular  way,  are  questions 
not  so  easily  answered.  Nor  is  it  my  present  business 
to  attempt  any  answer  to  them.  It  is  more  to  the  pur- 
pose to  offer  one  or  two  reasons  for  believing,  that  the 
altered  state  of  society  renders  the  revival  of  monas- 
ticism  altogether  impracticable. 

Do  what  he  may,  no  man  can  strip  himself  of  the 
circumstances,  and  concomitants,  which  it  has  pleased 
God  to  place  around  him.  He  may  say,  "  I  will  be  a 
monk  ; "  and  he  may  call  himself,  and  get  others  to  call 
him  by  the  name ;  but  if  he  says,  "  I  will  be  a  monk  of 
the  fourth  century,"  or  "a  monk  of  the  twelfth  century," 
we  can  only  assure  him  that  he  is  mistaken,  that  the 
thing  is  impossible,  and  that  if  he  is  a  monk  at  all  now- 
a-days,  it  must  be  of  the  nineteenth  century.  I  am  not 
speaking  of  either  one  of  those  centuries  as  better  or 
worse  than  the  others,  but  only  mean  that  whatever 
character  he  may  assume,  he  must  take  it  in  his  own 
circumstances.  They  may  be  friendly  or  hostile  ;  and, 
as  it  relates  to  the  case  now  under  consideration,  they 
may  be  in  the  Church  or  in  the  world  ;  in  Christians  or 
infidels ;  in  others,  whoever  and  whatever  they  may  be, 
or  in  himself,  such  as  he  is  naturally,  or  such  as  he  has 
been  made  by  education  and  habit :  and  nothing  can 
be  more  clear  than  that  any  man,  whether  young  or  old, 
whether  lay  or  clerical,  a  nobleman  or  tradesman,  a 
soldier  or  sailor,  a  peasant  or  mechanic,  a  man  rich  or 


X  PREFACE. 

poor,  single  or  married,  who  is  now  living  in  England, 
is,  both  as  to  externals,  and  as  to  the  modification  of 
himself,  in  very  different  circumstances  from  those  in 
which  he  could  have  been  placed,  had  he  lived  in  the 
same  character  and  station  in  the  fourth  or  in  the  twelfth 
century.  And  for  the  English  monk  of  the  nineteenth 
century,  there  seem  to  be  some  peculiar  obstacles. 
They  may  exist,  and  in  some  degree,  more  or  less,  they 
certainly  do  exist,  in  some  other  parts  of  Christendom, 
but  they  are  particularly  obvious  and  powerful  in  this 
country. 

In  the  first  place,  consider  how  completely,  and  by 
what  means,  the  monastic  system  has  been  put  down  in 
England.  There  is  no  need  to  enter  into  the  matter  of 
motives  or  proofs.  The  fact,  which  is  all  that  we  want, 
is,  that  popular  indignation  and  hatred  of  the  bitterest 
kind  was  excited,  and  has  been  studiously  kept  up,  and 
that  for  centuries  the  general  notion  in  this  country 
has  been  that  a  monastery  naturally,  almost  necessarily, 
is  a  place  dedicated  to  idleness,  gluttony,  lewdness, 
hypocrisy,  political  intrigue,  fraud,  treachery,  and  blood  ; 
so  that,  as  a  matter  of  course,  a  nun  is  to  be  supposed 
something  as  bad  as  can  be,  and  a  monk  no  better. 
Now,  certainly,  no  candid  man  will  deny,  that  before 
the  period  of  the  Reformation,  the  monastic  system  in 
the  Western  Church  had  got  into  a  very  bad  state. 
Too  many  monasteries  were  really  societies  of  dissolute 
men ;  and  a  vast  many  more  had  so  far  departed  from 
their  bounden  discipline,  that  there  was  nothing  to 
restrain  the  vicious.  That  is,  the  monks  lived  in 
them  under  scarcely,  if  any,  more  control  from  vice 
than  fellows  of  colleges  do  now.     That    under  these 


PREFACE.  XI 

circumstances,  in  a  dissolute  age,  a  great  number  of 
monks  became  profane  and  debauched,  and  a  great 
many  more  secular  and  careless  of  religion,  is  not  to  be 
doubted ;  but  that  there  ever  was  truth  in  the  coarse 
and  filthy  abuse  heaped  upon  the  monastic  order  as  a 
body,  by  some  who  were  forward  in  the  business  of  the 
Reformation,  is  what  I  suppose  never  was  believed  by 
any  one  who  had  a  moderate  knowledge  of  facts.  The 
truth  perhaps  is,  and  it  is  such  as  should  satisfy  all  but 
the  infidel  and  profane,  that  if  we  take  any  period 
whatever  in  the  history  of  Christianity,  and  compare 
the  morals  of  the  monks  and  clergy  with  those  of  the 
laitv,  we  shall  find  that,  however  bad  the  former  might 
be,  the  latter  were  worse.  In  fact,  it  appears  to  be  the 
testimony  of  history,  that  the  monks  and  clergy,  whe- 
ther  bad  or  good  in  themselves,  were  in  all  times  and 
places  better  than  other  people. 

Be  this  as  it  may,  however,  the  point  with  which  we 
are  concerned  is,  that  this  odium,  just  or  unjust,  does 
exist,  and  would  form  an  obstacle  to  the  revival  of 
monastic  institutions  in  this  country.  There  are,  per- 
haps, some  lively  young  men  who  would  reply,  "  We 
should  like  it  all  the  better.  We  should  enjoy  being 
persecuted,  especially  as  nobody  would  venture  to  harm 
us  in  life,  or  limb,  or  property,  to  burn  us  up  as  the 
Danes  did,  or  sell  us  up  as  Henry  VIII.  did,  or  hang 
us  up  as  Elizabeth  did ;  and  we  should  go  about  with 
shaved  crowns  and  rope-girdles,  and  people  would  look 
at  us,  and  come  to  hear  us  intone  from  our  lecterns." 
Of  this,  one  can  only  say,  that  in  such  hands  the  matter 
would  soon  be  laughed  out  of  countenance.  But  others, 
who  deserve  more  respectful  consideration,  may  tell  us 


Xll  PREFACE. 

that  we  are  not  to  truckle  to  the  spirit  of  the  age,  but 
to  do  that  which  is  right.  That  is  plain  enough,  and  I 
trust  that  no  one  will  imagine  that  I  am  recommending 
a  servile  obsequiousness  to  popular  notions  and  feelings. 
Of  course  we  are  not  to  shrink  from  duties,  to  compro- 
mise principles,  to  adopt  or  renounce  doctrines  or  prac- 
tices in  mere  compliment  to  the  irreligious — but  there 
is  no  need  to  repeat  the  string  of  truisms  which  are  not 
only  obvious  to  common  sense,  and  instinctively  felt  by 
common  honesty,  but  which  must  be  familiar  to  most 
readers,  as  being  perpetually  in  the  mouths  of  those 
who  are  conscious  that  they  are  proposing  or  practising 
what  the  great  body  of  the  Church  may  deem  eccentric 
or  absurd. 

But  these  truisms  are  inapplicable  to  the  matter  in 
hand,  which  involves  no  fulfilment  or  breach  of  any  law 
human  or  divine.  And  in  such  a  case  it  is  a  matter  of 
wisdom  and  duty,  and,  practically  speaking,  of  absolute 
necessity,  to  take  into  account  the  state  of  thought  and 
feeling  in  which  the  great  body  of  the  Church  has  been 
brought  up  and  exists.  If  any  man  is  fully  satisfied 
that  there  is  a  divine  command,  or  a  human  law,  by 
which  he  is  bound  to  build  a  monastery  and  carry  on 
monasticism,  let  him  pursue  his  convictions,  without 
troubling  himself  about  the  consequences.  Or  if  he 
thinks  that  though  there  may  have  been  no  command 
on  the  subject,  yet,  having  developed  itself,  monasticism 
must  be  an  essential  and  permanent  part  of  the  divine 
dispensation,  I  should  not  wish  to  discuss  what  appeals 
to  me  so  entirely  unreasonable,  and  so  incapable  of 
being  even  approached  in  argument  without  the  settle- 
ment   of  many  previous    questions.     But    those   who 


PREFACE.  Xlll 

believe  with  me  that  different  states  of  society  may 
render  specific  institutions,  forming  no  part  of  the 
Church,  though  more  or  less  connected  with  it,  useful 
at  one  time,  noxious  at  another,  and  incapable  of  exist- 
ence at  a  third,  I  would  beg  to  consider  one  or  two 
features  of  the  present  time,  as  compared  with  the 
middle  ages. 

In  the  first  place,  as  it  regards  vows  of  any  kind.  I  do 
not  know  whether,  among  the  advocates  for  the  revival 
of  Monasticism,  there  are  any  who  would  maintain  them ; 
but  in  the  letter  to  which  I  have  alluded  they  are  fairly 
abandoned.  In  the  adapted  form  there  are  to  be 
"  no  vows ;  but  a  solemn  declaration  and  engagement 
of  obedience  to  the  Superior,  and  of  compliance  with 
the  rules  of  the  Institution  during  residence."  But  this 
seems  to  be  in  fact  giving  up  the  whole  thing.  Surely 
no  one  who  has  at  all  considered  the  system  of  Monas- 
ticism, can  doubt  that  the  vow  of  perpetual  self-dedica- 
tion was  the  very  root  of  the  matter.  The  reserved 
power  of  change,  even  if  encumbered  with  difficulties, 
would  alter  the  whole  thing.  The  monastic  vow 
necessarily  operates  in  two  ways.  First,  in  making  all 
but  the  most  thoughtless  careful  how  they  enter  upon 
such  a  mode  of  life;  and  secondly,  by  making  those 
who  have  taken  it  contented  with  a  condition  which 
they  know  to  be  unalterable,  and  in  which,  whatever 
other  schemes  of  life  may  occur  to  their  imagination  as 
brighter  than  their  own,  they  remain  peacefully  and 
cheerfully,  because  that  very  circumstance  of  perpetual 
obligation  has  given  it  somewhat  the  character  of  a 
divine  dispensation.  It  is  very  well  for  political  agita- 
tors, and   makers  of  fancy  tales,  to  tell  us  of  raging 


XIV  PREFACE. 

monks  and  pining  nuns,  gnawing  the  chains  of  their 
spiritual  bondage,  because  they  were  either  in  love  com- 
monly so  called,  or  in  love  with  the  vanities  of  the  world, 
— as  if  such  persons,  with  very  few  exceptions,  would 
not  fairly  run  away,  vow  or  no  vow — but  it  is  no  part  of 
human  nature  to  be  rendered  permanently  unhappy  by 
unalterable  dispensations.  Generally  men  and  women 
are  satisfied  with  the  sex,  and  the  stature,  assigned  to 
them,  and  do  not  think  of  making  themselves  miserable 
about  the  circumstances  of  native  country,  parentage, 
or  anything  else  which,  they  know,  cannot  be  altered. 

But  the  matter  may  be  illustrated  by  a  case  in  which 
a  vow  of  perpetual   obligation   remains   among  us  in 
the  present  day.     No   one   can   doubt  that  it  would 
make  a  difference  scarcely  to  be  imagined  .if  the  mar- 
riage vow,  instead  of  being  perpetual  and  irrevocable, 
were  only  a    "solemn  declaration"    that  the  parties 
would   conduct  themselves  properly  so  long  as  they 
should  see  fit  to  continue  man  and  wife.      I  do  not 
mean  merely  that  many  unhappy  marriages  would  be 
dissolved,  and   many   unequally-yoked   persons   set  at 
liberty,  for  it  would  certainly  operate  something    far 
beyond  this,  and  of  quite  a  different  nature.     Thou- 
sands who  are  now  living  happily  together,  and  who,  if 
they  ever  thought  of  such   a  thing   as  a  separation, 
would  consider  it  one  of  the  greatest  evils  that  could 
happen  to  them,  would  become  unsettled,  would  be  led 
to  speculate,  and  tempted  to  experiment ;  the  possibi- 
lity would  be  present  to  their  own  minds,  or  perpetually 
suggested  by  others ;  a  cross  word  or  an  angry  look 
would  be  followed  by  divorce,  and  a  state  of  things 
would  follow,  plainly  showing  that  if  the  name  of  mar- 


PREFACE.  XV 


riage  was  retained,  its  nature  was  changed,  and  its 
chief  benefits  were  lost.  I  am  not  saying  that  the 
monastic  vow  was  a  good  thing,  or  that  those  who  took 
it  did  right ;  but,  that  without  it  the  system  could  not 
have  existed ;  and  also,  that  without  it  neither  the  sys- 
tem, nor  anything  really  like  it,  can  be  now  established. 

But  there  are,  moreover,  two  particulars  in  the  cha- 
racter assumed  by  the  vow  in  question,  which  are 
strongly  against  its  revival  in  the  present  age.  In  the 
early  days  of  monasticism,  a  person  self-devoted  by  a 
vow  to  a  life  of  celibacy  was  on  that  account  looked  up 
to  with  respect.  But  the  vow,  which  was  then  in 
itself  a  ground  of  reverence,  would  in  the  present  day 
expose  any  men  or  women  who  should  be  known  to 
have  taken  it,  to  the  suspicion,  or  the  remonstrance,  or 
the  ridicule,  not  merely  of  the  frivolous  and  thought- 
less, but  of  nine  out  of  ten  of  those  whom  they  were 
brought  up  to  love  and  honour,  and  to  whom  they  were 
bound  by  every  tie  of  affection  and  respect.  And  it 
must  surely  make  some  difference  in  the  working  of  a 
system,  whether  those  who  adopt  it  become  objects  of 
esteem  and  veneration,  or  of  contempt  and  suspicion. 
There  may  be  those  who  would  answer  as  before,  that 
persecution  from  anybody  would  be  delightful ;  but, 
beside  other  reasons  for  taking  courage,  we  may  comfort 
ourselves  with  the  hope  that  they  are  not  sufficiently 
numerous  to  fill  more  than  one  or  two  monasteries  at 
the  utmost,  and  that  only  for  a  very  little  while. 

For  let  us  just  look  at  another  point — the  monastic 
vow  was  one  of  obedience ;  and  in  the  proposed  adapt- 
ation there  are  to  be  "  no  vows  ;  but  a  solemn  decla- 
ration and  engagement  of  obedience  to  the  Superior,  and 


XVI  PREFACE. 

of  compliance  with  the  rules  of  the  Institution  during 
residence."  But  what  are  we  to  understand  by  "  obe- 
dience to  the  Superior"  in  this  revived  monastic  system? 
Is  it,  for  instance,  to  be  such  as  the  Rule  of  St.  Bene- 
dict required  ?  The  reader  may  see  what  that  was  in  a 
following  page  *.     Nothing  of  that  sort,  I  suppose,  can 

1  See  p.  170.  No.  60. — The  original  of  it  is  "Praeceptis  Abbatis  in 
omnibus  obedire,  etiam  si  ipse  aliter  (quod  absit)  agat  memores  illud 
Dominicum  prceceptum,  Qua?  dicunt,  facite  :  qua?  autem  faciunt,  facere 
nolite." — Cap.  iv.  There  is,  indeed,  in  this  Rule  such  a  plain  statement  of 
the  doctrine  of  passive  obedience  and  non-resistance  as  would  appear  per- 
fectly ridiculous  in  the  present  day.  What  would  those  who  talk  most 
about  obedience  say  to  such  passages  as  these :  "  Primus  humilitatis  gradus, 
est  obedientia  sine  mora.  Ha?c  convenit  his,  qui  nihil  sibi  a  Christo  carius 
aliquid  existimant  propter  servitium  sanctum  quod  professi  sunt,  seu 
propter  metum  gehenna?,  vel  gloriam  vita?  a?terna? ;  mox  ut  aliquid  impe- 
ratum  a  majore  fuerit,  ac  si  divinitus  imperetur,  moram  pati  nesciunt  in 
faciendo  "  .  .  . ' '  Sed  ha?c  ipsa  obedientia  tunc  acceptabilis  erit  Deo,  et  dulcis 
hominibus,  si,  quod  jubetur,  non  trepide,  non  tarde,  nori  tepide,  aut  cum 
murmure,  vel  cum  responso  nolentis  efficiatur :  quia  obedientia  quce  majo- 
ribus  prcebetur,  Deo  exhibetur." — Cap.  v.  And  this  was  to  extend,  not 
merely  to  things  specifically  mentioned  in  statutes  or  acts  of  parliament, 
nor  yet  merely  to  things  reasonable  in  themselves,  but  to  such  things  as 
were  grievous,  and  even  impossible.  The  lxviii.  chapter  is  headed  "  Si 
fratri  impossibilia  injungantur ;"  and  it  is  as  follows  :  "  Si  cui  fratri  aliqua 
forte  gravia  aut  impossibilia  injunguntur ;  suscipiat  quidem  jubentis  impe- 
rium,  cum  omni  mansuetudine  et  obedientia.  Quod  si  omnino  virium 
suarum  mensuram  viderit  pondus  oneris  excedere;  impossibilitatis  sua? 
causas  ei,  qui  sibi  pra?est,  patienter  et  opportune  suggerat,  non  super- 
biendo  aut  resistendo  vel  contradicendo.  Quod  si  post  suggestionem 
suam  in  sua  sententia  Prioris  imperium  perduraverit,  sciat  junior  ita  sibi 
expedire,  et  ex  caritate  confidens  de  adjutorio  Dei,  obediat."  Nor  was 
this  obedience  to  be  confined  to  the  Abbot :  "  Obedientia?  bonum  non 
solum  Abbati  exhibendum  est  ab  omnibus  :  sed  etiam  sibi  invicem  ita  obe- 
diant  fratres,  scientes  se  per  hanc  obedientia?  viam  ituros  ad  Deum  ....  Si 
quis  autem  Frater  pro  quavis  minima  causa  ab  Abbate,  vel  a  quocumque 
Priore  suo  corripiatur  quolibet  modo ;  vel  si  leviter  senserit  animum 
Prioris  cujuscumque  contra  se  iratum,  vel  commotum,  quamvis  modice ; 
mox  sine  mora  tamdiu  prostratus  in  terra  ante  pedes  ejus  jaceat  satisfaciens, 
usque  dum  benedictione  sanetur  ilia  commotio  " — Cap.  lxxi.  I  do  not 
know  whether  it  is  proposed  to  revive  anything  like  this ;  but  without  it, 
how  could  the  monasteries  of  the  dark  ages  have  been  what  they  were  ? 
In  fact,  what  did  they  become  as  this  spirit  of  submission,  now  lost  in 
that  of  jealous  independence,  was  gradually  subsiding? 


/ 


PREFACE.  XVli 

be  intended  in  this  enlightened  country ;  and  I  am  led 
by  the  disputes  which  I  have  heard  for  many  years 
past  respecting  canonical  obedience  to  our  Bishops,  to 
doubt  whether  the  talk  of  obedience  has  any  real  mean- 
ing. I  am  afraid  that  in  the  present  day  nothing  will 
give  such  a  Superior  poicer,  except  law  or  money  ;  and 
that  only  the  latter  will  procure  for  him  anything  which 
can  properly  be  called  obedience.  In  the  former  of  these 
cases,  where  power  is  given  by  law,  the  obedience  will 
be  rendered  to  the  law,  and  in  no  sense  whatever  to  the 
Superior.  If  he  has  an  Act  of  Parliament  hanging  in 
his  cell,  constituting  and  appointing  him  Ruler  over  cer- 
tain persons  named  in  the  schedule  A  annexed,  accord- 
ing to  certain  regulations  set  out  in  schedule  B  annexed, 
those  certain  persons  must  obey  (whether  him,  or  the 
law,  is  perhaps  of  no  great  consequence)  so  far  as  the 
law  goes ;  but  beyond  that  the  Superior  has  no  power. 
On  the  other  hand,  something  further  may  perhaps  be 
procured  for  him  in  the  way  of  obedience,  by  money. 
I  do  not  mean  what  lawyers  call  "  monies  numbered  " 
paid  down  in  pence  by  the  Superior  to  the  monks  for 
capping  him,  or  doing  what  he  bids  ;  but  money's  worth, 
provided  by  the  expense  of  money.  There  may  be 
endowments  such  as  will  (according  to  the  familiar 
phrase)  make  it  worth  men's  while — worth  the  while  of 
men  nursed  up  in  sensitive  independence — to  put  up, 
at  least  for  a  time,  with  the  degradation  and  annoyance 
of  submission ;  or  it  may  give  a  lift  in  society,  smooth 
the  way  to  holy  orders,  or  more  probably  to  a  sectarian 
ministry ;  or  it  may  hold  out  various  other  advantages 
which  it  is  easy  to  imagine.  But  whatever  they  may 
be,  the  obedience  thus  purchased  will  be  of  little  value. 

I) 


XV111  PREFACE. 

and  the  mode  by  which  it  is  obtained  will  considerably 
qualify  the  nature  of  the  society.  It  must,  I  suppose, 
consist  chiefly  of  those  to  whom  such  advantages  are 
an  object ;  perhaps  entirely,  for  men  of  higher  motives 
may  not  like  that  sort  of  constant  association,  and  close 
fellowship,  with  the  sordid  and  scheming. 

There  is,  I  repeat,  a  want  of  power ;  a  want  which  it 
is  in  the  present  day  impossible  to  meet  by  any  legiti- 
mate and  reasonable  means.     How  is  it  attempted  in 
the  plan  to  which  I  have  so  repeatedly  alluded  ?     The 
author  of  it  seems  to  have  been  conscious  that  the 
Superior  would  be  in  rather  a  helpless  predicament,  and 
to  have  thought  that  as  he  could  not  be  magnified,  he 
should  be  multiplied.     I  am  afraid  I  shall  hardly  be 
believed,  when  I  say  that  under  the  head  of  "  Visita- 
tion," we  are  told  that  the  proposed  monasteries  are  to 
be  visited,  "  monthly  by  the  Parochial  Minister,  quar- 
terly by  the  Rural  Dean,  half-yearly  by  the  Archdeacon, 
yearly  by  the  Bishop."     I  fear  there  would  be  "  many 
masters."     Will  the  reader  be  so  good  as  to  imagine 
monasteries  in  the  parish,  rural  deanery,  archdeaconry, 
and  diocese,  in  which  he  lives  and  some  three  or  four 
others  which  he  may  happen  to  know,  to  consider  the 
probabilities,  and  charitably  keep  them  to  himself? 

But  let  us  look  at  the  matter  on  a  broader  scale.  It 
must  be  obvious  to  every  one  who  has  reflected  on  the 
subject,  that  the  progress  of  modern  society — particu- 
larly English  society — has  been  most  decidedly  against 
the  possibility  of  reviving  any  institution  in  which 
men  should  live  together  in  common.  The  way  of 
living  in  this  country  has  long  been  receding  more  and 
more  from  anything  like  ccenobitic  life  ;  and  has  been 


PREFACE.  XIX 

characterized  by  an  increasing  tendency  to  independ- 
ence, individualization,  and  (to  use  the  words  in  a  mild 
sense)  the  dissociation,  and  disconnection  of  men.  It 
will  be  remembered  that  I  am  not  speaking  of  parties 
political  or  religious,  or  of  joint-stock  companies,  but 
of  the  habits  of  domestic  life.  How  will  these  prepare 
men  for  the  Refectory  f  There  is  now  no  such  thing 
as  "  the  Meeting  of  Gallants  at  the  Ordinary e,"  although 
such  common  tables  "  were  long  the  universal  resort  of 
gentlemen 2 ;"  and  indeed  of  all  classes  of  society  in 
England,  as  they  still  are  in  other  countries  of  Europe. 
But  the  most  striking  illustration  is  furnished  by  the 
principal  clubs  which  have  been  instituted  in  London 
within  about  twenty  years.  Most  of  them  have  some 
distinguishing  character ;  the  Athenaeum,  for  instance, 
as  a  literary  club,  the  Carlton  a  political  one,  and  in 
some  others  the  name  is  a  sufficient  indication,  as  the 
United  Service,  the  Junior  United  Service,  the  Tra- 
vellers', the  United  University,  the  Oxford  and  Cam- 
bridge, the  Reform.  We  may  in  all  these  cases 
imagine  some  degree  of  sympathy  and  congruity 
among  the  members  of  each  club.  At  least,  we  may 
safely  say,  what  is  still  more  to  our  purpose,  that  an 
immense  majority  of  members  have  at  some  time  or 
other  been  used  to  eat  what  are  significantly    called 

2  I  borrow  these  words  from  Nares,  who  places  the  word  Ordinary  in 
his  Glossary  with  some  apology  on  account  of  its  not  having  quite  fallen 
into  actual  disuse.  Perhaps  every  year  since  his  book  was  published  has 
given  it  a  greater  right  to  be  included  among  the  "  words,  phrases,  and 
names  "  which,  as  his  title  page  states,  "  have  been  thought  to  require  illus- 
tration." It  means,  he  tells  us,  "  A  public  dinner,  where  each  person  pays 
his  share.  The  word,  in  this  sense,  is  certainly  not  obsolete ;  but  it  is 
here  inserted  for  the  sake  of  observing,  that  ordinaries  were  long  the  uni- 
versal resort  of  gentlemen,  particularly  in  the  reign  of  James  I." 

b2 


XX  PREFACE. 

••  commons,"  in  the  hall  of  a  College,  or  an  Inn  of 
Court,  or  at  a  Naval  or  Military  mess-table.  And  yet 
I  am  informed  that  in  only  one  of  the  institutions  which 
I  have  mentioned  is  there  any  thing  in  the  nature  of 
a  table  a^lwte ;  and  that  in  that  one  it  is  onlv  a  recent 
experiment,  of  which  it  still  remains  to  be  seen  whe- 
ther it  will  succeed,  or  whether,  like  similar  attempts 
in  other  clubs,  it  must  be  abandoned.  So  totally  dif- 
ferent is  the  usual  course  of  things,  that  half  a  dozen 
gentlemen,  it  may  be,  are  sitting  together  until  the 
moment  at  which  each  has  put  down  his  name  to 
dine  on  a  particular  joint ;  when  it  is  ready,  they  go 
into  another  room,  separate  to  six  different  tables,  and 
the  ambulatory  joint  seeks  them  out  in  their  indepen- 
dent establishments,  while  each  is  not  supposed  to  know 
of  even  the  existence  of  the  other  five.  Perhaps  it 
would  not  be  too  much  to  say  that,  in  the  clubs  which 
I  have  named,  nearly  an  hundred  thousand  dinners  (to 
say  nothing  of  other  meals)  are  annually  served  ;  and 
to  add,  that  though  eaten  (as  it  regards  each  club)  in 
the  same  room,  and  in  company,  yet  nine  out  of  ten 
are  single,  not  to  say  solitary,  meals  3. 

I  am  not  finding  fault  with  this.     I  shall  probably 
be  told  that  it  is  much  the  best  way ;  that  it  does  not 


1  I  do  not  know  how  far  it  might  be  right  to  consider  the  details  of 
any  one  of  the  Institutions  which  I  have  named,  as  forming  a  ground  for 
precise  calculation  respecting  the  others.  But  nothing  of  that  sort  is  here 
required  ;  and  though  (as  I  suspect)  the  following  statement  may  exhibit 
proportions  in  a  trifling  degree  more  favourable  to  my  argument,  than 
would  be  furnished  from  some  of  the  clubs  which  I  have  named,  yet  I 
think  it  will  shew  the  reader  that  I  have  not  on  the  whole  exaggerated. 
In  the  month  of  June,  1843,  the  number  of  dinners  served  at  the  Athe- 
naeum was  1457,  of  which  all  but  36  were  single.  Of  the  latter,  30  were 
rived  to  two  persons,  5  to  three,  and  1  to  four. 


PREFACE.  XXI 

arise  from  any  want  of  good  feeling,  but  that  it  is 
found  to  be,  on  the  whole,  much  more  pleasant, — u  you 
are  more  independent."  I  really  do  not  mean  to  con- 
tradict this,  or  to  argue  about  the  comparative  merits 
of  the  present,  and  any  former,  system.  I  am  only 
stating  a  fact,  and  that  only  as  an  illustration ;  but  I 
say  that  such  a  fact,  or  its  cause,  whatever  that  may 
be,  is  something  much  in  the  way  of  any  attempt  to 
revive  coenobitic  life.  And  if  the  habits  in  which  the 
present  generation  have  been  educated,  have  drifted 
them  so  far  away  from  the  refectory,  is  it  worth  while 
to  waste  a  word  about  the  dormitory  ?  I  will,  there- 
fore, here  only  ask  the  reader  to  reflect  on  these  two 
very  important  points,  and  to  draw  out,  for  his  own 
consideration,  the  details  respecting  them ;  unless 
indeed  he  should  feel  that  he  cannot  do  that  until  he 
knows  from  what  class  of  society,  or  whether  from  all 
classes  indiscriminately,  the  monks  are  to  be  taken ; 
and  on  this  point  I  am  not  at  present  able  to  give  him 
any  satisfactory  information,  being  extremely  puzzled 
about  it  myself. 

I  hope  I  have  convinced  the  reader  that  whether  the 
revival  of  Monasticism  be  practicable  or  impracticable, 
good  or  bad,  I  am  no  advocate  for  it ;  and  having  said 
perhaps  more  than  enough  to  vindicate  myself  from 
the  suspicion  of  any  such  design  in  the  following 
Essays,  will  he  indulge  me  in  the  further  egotism  of 
savins:  a  very  few  words  about  the  Essavs  themselves? 
They  were  originally  published  in  the  British  Maga- 
zine, between  the  months  of  March  1835  and  February 
1838.  They  were  written  at  the  request  of  my  most 
dear,  and  honoured,  and   deeply-lamented   friend,   the 


XX11  PREFACE. 

Rev.  Hugh  James  Rose,  who  was  then,  as  he  had  been 
from  its  beginning,  the  editor  of  that  work.  After 
receiving  the  first,  he  wrote  to  me  that  he  should 
"  fully  rely  on  a  perennial,  or,  rather,  permensal  supply." 
I  mention  this,  because,  under  the  impression  which 
it  created,  I  was  anxious  that,  throughout  the  whole 
series,  whenever  a  paper  appeared,  another  should  be 
sent  in  time  for  the  next  number.  In  fact,  the  first 
thirteen  were  printed  with  no  intermission ;  and  though 
of  course  I  do  not  mean  that  I  had  each  month  to 
begin  the  collection  of  materials  de  novo,  yet  the  ar- 
rangement of  raw  materials  is  a  work  which  takes  some 
time  and  trouble,  generally  more  than  one  expects,  and 
which  if  it  is  hurried  is  likely  to  be  ill-done.  Some  of 
the  papers  were  written  under  disadvantages  from  want 
of  health  and  leisure,  and  all  without  the  help  which 
many  books,  not  within  my  reach  at  Gloucester,  would 
have  afforded.  But  chiefly  they  were  written  under 
that  great  disadvantage  of  anxiety  to  furnish  a  certain 
quantity,  and  only  a  certain  quantity,  by  a  given 
time,  and  therefore  feeling  obliged  to  select,  and 
abridge,  and  condense,  and  cut  up,  and  piece  toge- 
ther, and  omit,  and  copy  over  again  hastily,  and,  in 
short,  do  all  the  things  which  were  likely  to  present 
unfavourably,  materials  which  I  was  sure  were  inte- 
resting in  themselves.  Such  circumstances  impress  an 
indelible  character  on  a  work,  which  no  subsequent 
labour  can  remove ;  but  the  reader  may  view  it  with 
more  indulgence  if  he  considers  it  as  belonging  to 
essays  written  under  the  disadvantages  which  I  have 
described,  and  published  in  the  pages  of  a  monthly 
periodical  work.     T   need    scarcely  add    that,    though 


PREFACE.  XX111 

printed  much  more  accurately  than  I  could  have  ex- 
pected, such  a  mode  of  publishing  such  materials,  of  a 
great  part  of  which  I  had  no  opportunity  of  correcting 
the  press,  ensured  many  typographical  errors.  Some,  I 
fear,  must  have  escaped,  but  I  hope  that  the  greater 
part  are  corrected. 


ADVERTISEMENT 


TO    THE 


SECOND     EDITION. 


These  Essays  have  been  reprinted  with 'very  little 
alteration  ;  some  little  additions  which  it  seemed  desir- 
able to  make  having  been  thrown  into  the  form  of 
notes,  and  added  to  the  work,  in  order  that  they  may 
be  furnished  separately  to  those  who  have  the  former 
edition. 


THE  DARK  AGES. 


No.  I. 

"  I  know  nothing  of  those  ages  which  knew  nothing." 

I  really  forget  to  which  of  two  eminent  wits  this 
saying  belongs ;  but  I  have  often  thought  that  I  should 
have  liked  to  ask  him  how  he  came  to  know  so  curious 
and  important  a  fact  respecting  ages  of  which  he  knew 
nothing.     Was  it  merely  by  hearsay  ? 

Everybody  allows,  however,  that  they  were  dark 
ages.  Certainly ;  but  what  do  we  mean  by  darkness  ? 
Is  not  the  term,  as  it  is  generally  used,  comparative  ? 
Suppose  I  were  to  say  that  I  am  writing  "  in  a  little 
dark  room,"  would  you  understand  me  to  mean  that  I 
could  not  see  the  paper  before  me  ?  Or,  if  I  should  say 
that  I  was  writing  "  on  a  dark  day,"  would  you  think 
I  meant  that  the  sun  had  not  risen  by  noon  ?  Well, 
then,  let  me  beg  you  to  remember  this,  when  you  and 
I  use  the  term,  dark  ages.  I  am  sorry  to  waste  time 
about  words ;  but  it  is  so  important  that  people  should 
fully  understand  one  another,  (and  the  sooner  the 
better,)  that  I  must  just  notice  another  point.  Do 
we  always  clearly  know  what  we  should  understand 
— or,    indeed,  what    we    mean    to  express — when  we 

B 


2  INTRODUCTION.  [NO.  I. 

hear  or  talk  of  the  dark  ages?  Do  we  mean  ages 
which  were  dark  in  themselves,  and  with  respect  to 
those  who  lived  in  them  ?  Or,  do  we  mean  that  they 
are  dark  to  ns,  and  that  it  is  very  difficult  for  us  to 
form  a  clear  idea  of  them?  I  suppose  that  we  some- 
times mean  one  and  sometimes  the  other,  and  very 
frequently  both — and,  in  fact,  both  are  true  ;  but  it  is 
better  not  to  confound  the  two  ideas,  which  are  in 
themselves  perfectly  distinct. 

Many  causes — of  some  of  which  I  hope  to  speak 
hereafter — have  concurred  to  render  those  ages  very 
dark  to  us;  but,  for  the  present,  I  feel  it  sufficient 
to  remind  the  reader,  that  darkness  is  quite  a  different 
thing  from  shutting  the  eyes ;  and  that  we  have  no 
right  to  complain  that  we  can  see  but  little  until  we 
have  used  due  diligence  to  see  what  we  can. 

As  to  the  other  point — that  is,  as  to  the  degree 
of  darkness  in  which  those  ages  were  really  involved, 
and  as  to  the  mode  and  degree  in  which  it  affected 
those  who  lived  in  them,  I  must  express  my  belief, 
that  it  has  been  a  good  deal  exaggerated.  There  is  no 
doubt  that  those  who  lived  in  what  are  generally  called 
the  "middle"  or  the  "dark"  ages,  knew  nothing  of 
many  things  which  are  familiar  to  us,  and  which  we 
deem  essential  to  our  comfort,  and  almost  to  our  ex- 
istence ;  but  still  I  doubt  whether,  even  in  this  point 
of  view,  they  were  so  entirely  dark  as  some  would  have 
us  suppose.  I  dare  say  you  have  observed,  that,  in  a 
certain  state  of  twilight,  as  soon  as  you  have  lighted 
only  a  taper  in  your  chamber,  it  seems  quite  dark  out 
of  doors.  Yet,  perhaps,  you  have  only  just  come  into 
the  house  out  of  that  which,  if  not  broad  day-light, 
was  nevertheless  such  good  serviceable  twilight  as  that, 
while  you  were  in  it,  you  never  once  thought  of  dark- 
ness, or  of  losing  your  way,  or  not  being  able  to  see 
what   yon    were  about;   yet,  1  say,  as  soon  as  ever  you 


NO.  I.]  INTRODUCTION.  3 

lighted,  were  it  only  a  rushlight,  in  your  chamber,  all 
the  look-out  was  darkness.  Were  you  ever  so  misled 
as  to  open  the  window,  and  tell  the  people  in  the  road 
that  they  would  certainly  lose  their  way,  and  break 
their  shins — nay,  even  to  condole  with,  or  triumph 
over,  those  inevitable  consequences  of  their  wandering 
about  in  pitch-darkness  ?  I  very  much  doubt  it ;  but 
if  it  ever  did  happen,  I  feel  quite  confident  that,  if 
from  being  at  a  loss  for  an  exordium,  or  for  any  other 
reason,  you  had  been  obliged  to  wait  with  your  head  out 
at  window  until  your  eyes  had  recovered  from  the  glare 
of  your  own  little  candle,  you  would  have  seen  that 
there  was  some  light  abroad — you  would  have  begun  to 
distinguish  houses,  and  highways,  and  sober  people 
going  about  their  business  in  a  way  which  shewed  that 
they  could  see  enough  for  common  purposes — and  you 
would  have  held  your  tongue  and  drawn  in  your  head, 
rather  pleased  that  you  had  not  exposed  yourself. 

Certain  it  is  that  we  are  lighted  up,  and  every  man 
who  struts  about  in  our  gas  light  can  see  that  it  is  dark 
out  of  doors;  and,  to  bring  him  to  anything  like  a 
right  understanding  of  the  case — not  to  prove  to  him 
that  it  is  as  light  out  of  doors  as  in,  for  I  beg  the 
reader  not  to  suspect  me  of  any  such  folly — to  bring 
him,  I  say,  to  a  right  understanding  of  the  case,  lie 
must  put  his  head  out,  and  keep  it  out  for  some  time. 
"What  then,"  says  the  reader,  "are  we  to  do?  Can 
he  mean  that  one  is  to  wade  through  all  the  stuff  that 
was  written  in  the  middle  ages?"  Certainly  not;  for, 
in  the  first  place,  a  good  deal  of  it  (and,  I  suspect, 
much  of  what  would  be  most  interesting)  is  not  known 
to  be  in  existence.  I  say  known,  because  who  can  take 
upon  himself  to  say  what  is  extant?  A  good  deal  lias 
been  printed;  and,  as  to  MSS.,  we  know  that  there 
are  a  good  many  unpublished  in  the  British  Museum, 
the  Bodleian,  and  other  libraries  of  our  kingdom  ;  and 

b  2 


4  INTRODUCTION.  [NO.  I. 

I  suppose  that  everybody  who  has  the  privilege  of 
using  those  collections,  or  the  King  of  France's,  and  a 
thousand  others,  can  find  out  specifically  what  manu- 
scripts they  contain.  Some,  I  suppose,  know  what  is 
in  the  Vatican,  and  in  other  of  the  less  open  libra- 
ries ;  but  who  knows  what  may  be  lurking  up  and 
down  Christendom  ?  Who  knows  what  was  hastily 
swept  together  when  the  libraries  of  suppressed  mo- 
nasteries, in  some  of  the  less  frequented  parts  of 
Europe,  were  accumulated  in  large  collections,  with- 
out, perhaps,  a  full  investigation  of  some  of  their  less 
obvious  and  intelligible  contents?  Perhaps  I  under- 
rate the  pains  that  may  have  been  bestowed  on  them  ; 
but  the  idea  has  been  strongly  impressed  on  my  mind 
since  I  was,  some  time  ago,  in  the  midst  of  a  collection 
drawn  from  such  sources,  in  which  the  manuscripts 
alone  amounted  to  sixty  thousand.  I  cannot  help 
thinking  that  a  more  thorough  investigation  of  such 
collections  may  one  day  bring  to  light  much  that  is 
not  supposed  to  exist.  But  I  am  running  on  too  fast ; 
and  all  that  was  necessary  was  to  assure  the  reader 
that,  so  far  from  requiring  him  to  read  all  the  works 
which  were  written  in  those  ages,  I  by  no  means  re- 
quire him  to  read  one-half  of  such  of  them  as  have 
been  printed  since ;  but  by  putting  your  head  into  the 
darkness,  good  reader,  I  do  mean  that  you  must,  in 
some  degree,  make  yourself  acquainted  with  the  origi- 
nal writers  of  the  period.  I  have  heard  of  a  traveller 
at  an  inn,  who  wished  to  look  out  and  see  if  it  was  day; 
and  who  returned  to  bed  with  a  very  wrong  judgment 
on  the  matter,  owing  to  his  being  in  the  dark  himself, 
whereby  he  was  led  to  open  the  glass  door  of  a  cup- 
board, instead  of  a  window  ;  and  T  must  say,  that,  in 
trusting  to  the  representations  of  some  popular  writers, 
you  will  be  doing  much  the  same  thing. 

This   is   a   strong  assertion;  and    it    is  one   which    I 


NO.  I.]  PURPOSE    OF    THE    WORK.  5 

would  not  make  if  I  were  not  fully  prepared  to  defend 
it  by  sufficient  examples,  which  I  hope  to  give  in  sub- 
sequent papers.  And.  now  I  think  of  it,  the  reader 
may,  perhaps,  desire  some  account  of  my  plan  :  and  I 
shall  be  very  glad  to  take  the  opportunity  of  assuring 
him  that  I  have  no  plan  whatsoever — that  I  do  most 
absolutely  and  entirely  disclaim  everything  of  the  sort 
— and  that  I  would  rather  put  this  very  pen  into  the 
fire,  than  undertake  to  draw  out  a  plan  and  keep  to  it 
in  such  a  matter  as  this  must  needs  be.  I  wish  this  to 
be  understood  at  the  outset,  that  the  reader  may  not 
charge  me  with  digressing — a  thing  to  which  I  am 
exceedingly  prone,  whenever  restriction  makes  it  prac- 
ticable. For,  to  say  the  truth,  I  have  seldom  taken 
much  trouble  to  find  any  one  thing,  that  I  was  not 
rewarded  by  finding  at  least  two  or  three  which  I  was 
not  looking  for ;  and  I  cannot  help  digressing  myself, 
and  wishing  to  carry  the  reader  along  with  me,  when 
anything  turns  up  which  interests  me,  and  which  I 
think  may  amuse  or  instruct  others. 

But  while  I  thus  disclaim  all  plan,  let  me  say,  that  I 
do  not  write  without  purpose ;  and  this  purpose  I  wish 
to  be  fully  understood.  It  is  to  furnish  some  materials 
towards  forming  a  right  judgment  of  the  real  state  of 
learning,  knowledge,  and  literature  during  the  dark 
ages.  The  period  which  I  have  more  particularly  in 
view  is  that  extending  from  a.d.  800  to  a.d.  1200 ;  and 
to  this  period  I  wish  the  reader  to  apply  any  general 
statement  or  remark  which  I  may  offer  respecting  the 
dark  or  middle  ages.  At  the  same  time,  I  do  not  con- 
sider myself  as  restricted  to  that  precise  period,  or  pre- 
cluded from  adducing  proofs  or  illustrations  which  may 
be  somewhat  more  ancient  or  modern.  The  subject  I 
have  endeavoured  to  state  in  terms  as  comprehensive 
as  possible,  by  saying,  "  learning,  knowledge,  and  lite- 
rature ;"  for  I  did  not  know  how  else  to  include  the 


6  PURPOSE    OF    THE    WORK.  [xo.  I. 

variety  of  miscellaneous  matter  into  which  it  is  my 
purpose  to  inquire,  or  which,  having  incidentally  met 
with  it  in  such  inquiries,  has  appeared  to  me  worthy  of 
notice.  It  will  not,  however,  be  understood  that  I  am 
pretending  to  write  a  literary  history  of  that  period. 
All  that  I  propose  in  these  papers  is,  to  bring  forward 
some  facts  illustrative  of  the  points  already  mentioned. 
For  this  reason  a  great  part  of  the  inquiry  will  of  course 
turn  on  books ;  and  I  consider  nothing  relating  to  them 
as  foreign  to  my  purpose,  which  includes  any  notices 
that  may  throw  light  upon  their  number,  value,  and 
materials — the  means  employed  by  proprietors,  libra- 
rians, and  scribes  for  their  multiplication,  correction, 
embellishment,  and  preservation — any  hints  tending  to 
show  what  books  were  most  in  request — any  notices  of 
the  love  of  books,  or  of  the  sale,  loan,  or  gift  of  them — 
of  the  means  employed  to  qualify  or  cause  people  to 
read  them — anything  in  the  shape  of  catalogues  of 
libraries,  or  collections  of  books,  during  that  period. 

This  looks  so  fine  now  I  have  put  it  on  paper,  that  I 
must  again  beg  the  reader  to  understand  that  I  am  as 
far  as  possible  from  pretending  to  give  a  full  account 
of  these  matters ;  but  I  think  that  by  bringing  together 
and  offering  to  notice  some  hints  which  lie  scattered  in 
various  writers  of  those  times,  I  may — I  do  not  say 
enable  him  to  form,  but — assist  him  in  forming  an  esti- 
mate of  the  learning,  knowledge,  and  literature  of  the 
dark  ages ;  and  on  this  point  I  will  only  add,  that 
though  he  may  probably  find  (and  if  so,  I  hope  pardon) 
some  errors  and  mistakes,  yet  he  may  rely  on  my  never 
intentionally  copying  a  reference — that  is,  whenever  I 
give  a  reference  he  will  understand  (unless  the  contrary 
is  stated)  that  I  copy  immediately  from  the  book  to 
which  I  refer.  Those  who  have  had  any  practice  in 
verifying  quotations  will  know  what  I  mean,  and  I 
believe  that  they  will  have  found  reason  to  join  me  in 


NO.  I.]  PURPOSE    OF    THE    WOHK.  7 

wishing  that  all  authors,  great  and  small,  would  do  the 
same. 

It  must  be  obvious  to  every  one  who  has  any  ac- 
quaintance whatever  with  the  subject,  that  the  learn- 
ing respecting  which  I  inquire  was  chiefly  sacred  or 
ecclesiastical — this,  I  say,  is  obvious  as  a  matter  of 
tact;  but  I  wish  it  to  be  distinctly  understood,  that 
it  is  particularly  with  a  view  to  such  learning  that  I 
now  offer  these  desultory  notices  to  the  public.  My 
object  is  to  inquire  what  knowledge,  and  what  means 
of  knowledge,  the  Christian  Church  actually  had  during 
the  dark  ages,  and  what  was,  in  fact,  the  real  state  of 
the  Church  on  these  points  during  that  period.  All 
which  does  not  directly  tend  to  this  is  purely  incidental, 
and  is  admitted  with  a  view  to  another  object  in  which 
I  feel  deeply  interested — the  promotion  of  the  study  of 
ecclesiastical  history. 

There  is  no  difficulty  in  knowing  where  to  begin,  for 
before  we  can  think  of  building,  we  must  clear  away 
the  rubbish — or,  to  recur  to  the  figure  which  I  have 
already  used,  before  we  can  possibly  look  out  of  the 
window,  we  must  open  the  shutters ;  for,  if  we  only  go 
to  "  windows  that  exclude  the  light,"  we  might  as  well 
keep  our  eyes  shut.  I  feel  it  necessary  to  do  this, 
because  statements  extremely  false  have  been  handed 
about  from  one  popular  writer  to  another,  and  it  is 
quite  impossible  to  form  any  correct  opinion  on  the 
subject  without  knowing  that  they  are  false.  At  the 
same  time  I  cannot  persuade  myself  to  begin  the  busi- 
ness without  begging  the  reader  not  to  consider  me  Bfl 
the  advocate  of  ignorance,  superstition,  and  error — not 
to  suppose  that  I  wish  to  hold  up  the  dark  ages  as 
golden  ages — not  to  think  that  I  undervalue  the  real 
improvements  which  have  been  made  in  learning  and 
science.  I  do  not  want  to  maintain  any  such  > i 1 1  \ 
paradox  :  but  T  do  want  to  contradict  falsehood,  and  to 


8  PURPOSE    OF   THE    WORK.  [NO.  I. 

bate  down  exaggeration  into  at  least  something  like 
truth.  Indeed  I  cannot  help  wishing  that  the  reader 
who  has  formed  his  idea  of  the  dark  ages  only  from 
some  modern  popular  writers — I  do  not  mean  those 
who  have  written  professedly  on  the  subject — could  be 
at  once  fairly  thrown  back  into  the  midst  of  them.  I 
cannot  help  thinking  that  he  would  feel  very  much  as 
I  did  the  first  time  that  I  found  myself  in  a  foreign 
country.  A  thousand  novelties  attracted  my  attention ; 
many  were  strange,  and  some  displeasing ;  and  there 
was  more  or  less  that  seemed  foreign  in  everything. 
For  this  I  was  prepared  ;  but  I  was  not  prepared  for 
another  feeling  which  very  soon,  and  quite  unex- 
pectedly, sprung  up  in  my  mind — "  How  much  is 
different,  and,  go  where  I  may,  for  ever  changing  ! 
True  ;  but  how  much  is  the  same  everywhere  ! "  It 
was  almost  a  surprise  to  me  to  find  that  the  sun  and 
moon  went  on  much  the  same  way  as  at  home — that 
there  were  roads,  and  rivers,  and  fields,  and  woods,  and 
towns,  and  cities,  and  streets,  and  houses  filled  with 
people  who  might,  perhaps,  talk  some  other  language, 
and  dress  in  some  other  fashion  from  mine,  but  who 
had  evidently  much  the  same  notions  as  to  the  neces- 
saries of  life,  and  the  substantiate  of  society ;  and, 
without  losing  all  my  pride,  or  patriotism,  or  prejudice, 
I  got  a  new  idea  of  the  unity  of  nature.  I  felt  that 
He  had  "  made  of  one  blood  all  nations  of  men  for  to 
dwell  on  all  the  face  of  the  earth" — it  brought  with  it 
a  kind  of  home-feeling — a  sense  that,  wherever  I  wan- 
dered, I  was  but  moving  in  the  hollow  of  His  hand 
among  my  own  brethren. 

Well,  and  these  old  folks  of  the  dark  ages  were  our 
grandfathers  and  grandmothers ;  and,  in  a  good  many 
points,  vastly  like  ourselves,  though  we  may  not  at  first 
see  the  resemblance  in  the  few  smoky  old  family  pic- 
tures which  have  come  down  to  us ;  but  had  they  "  not 


no.  il]  Robertson's  charles  v.  9 

eyes?"  had  they  "not  hands,  organs,  dimensions,  senses, 
affections,  passions — fed  with  the  same  food,  hurt  with 
the  same  weapons,  subject  to  the  same  diseases,  healed 
by  the  same  means,  warmed  and  cooled  by  the  same 
winter  and  summer"  as  we  are  ?  "  Yes ;  but  they 
knew  nothing."  Well,  then,  it  is  strange  to  think  how 
they  could  do  and  say  so  much  as  they  did  without  any 
knowledge.  But  you  do  not  mean  quite  nothing — you 
will  allow  that  they  knew  the  Pater-noster  and  Credo, 
and  that  is  something — nay.  a  good  deal,  in  itself,  and 
the  pledge  of  a  great  deal  more. 


No.  II. 


" '  Amongst  so  many  Bishops,'  says  Fleury,  '  there  was  not  one  critic, 
who  knew  how  to  discern  true  from  false  Records' — Critic  !  quoth  he. 
It  is  well  if  there  was  one  amongst  them  who  could  write  his  own 
name." — Jortin. 

I  have  said,  that  the  state  of  things  during  the  dark 
ages  has  been  misrepresented  by  some  popular  writers ; 
and  also  that,  in  making  that  charge,  I  did  not  mean 
to  reflect  on  those  who  had  professedly  written  on  those 
times.  Indeed,  as  far  as  I  know,  the  opinions  of  men 
in  general  on  the  subject  are  less  frequently  formed 
from  these  writers  than  from  those  who,  having  ob- 
tained popularity  on  some  other  grounds,  treat  inci- 
dentally of  the  subject,  or  here  and  there  give  a  passing 
sneer  to  the  dark  ages.  Few  books  have  been  more 
popular,  or  more  generally  read  by  thousands  who 
never  thought  of  asking  for  authorities,  than  Robert- 
sons  "History  of  Charles  the  Fifth;"  and,  perhaps,  I 
cannot  do  better 'than  take  some  proofs  and  illustra- 
tions of  what  I  have  said  from  that  work.  Some 
remarks  on  his  statements  may  not  only  tend  to 
obviate   those  prejudices   which   have   been   raised   by 


10  MISREPRESENTATIONS  [NO.  II. 

him,  and  by  other  writers,  but  may  also  furnish  a  sort 
of  introduction  absolutely  required  by  those  who  have 
not  given  any  attention  to  the  subject. 

In  his  "  View  of  the  Progress  of  Society,"  prefixed 
to  his  History,  Robertson  says : — 

"  Literature,  science,  taste,  were  words  scarce  in  use  during 
the  ages  we  are  contemplating  ;  or  if  they  occur  at  any  time, 
eminence  in  them  is  ascribed  to  persons  and  productions  so 
contemptible  that  it  appears  their  true  import  was  little 
understood.  Persons  of  the  highest  rank,  and  in  the  most 
eminent  stations  could  not  read  or  write.  Many  of  the 
clergy  did  not  understand  the  Breviary  which  they  were 
obliged  daily  to  recite ;  some  of  them  could  scarce  read  it." 
—(Vol.  i.  p.  18.) 

On  this  statement  Robertson  adds  a  note,  containing 
"  proofs  and  illustrations ;"  but,  before  I  come  to  it, 
let  me  observe  by  the  way,  that  he  is  professedly  speak- 
ing of  the  period  "  from  the  seventh  to  the  eleventh  cen- 
tury;" and,  that  unless  we  understand  him  to  mean 
"from  the  seventh"  to  quite  the  end  of  the  "eleventh 
century,"  it  is  not  wonderful  that  the  clergy  did  not 
understand  the  "  Breviary,"  or  true  that  they  were 
obliged  to  recite  it ;  for  it  did  not  exist.  The  fact 
is,  indeed,  unimportant ;  because  the  question  is,  not 
whether  there  was,  at  that  period,  a  book  called  the 
"  Breviary,"  but  whether,  supposing  there  were  such  a 
book,  the  clergy  could  have  read  it,  or  any  thing  else. 
I  notice  the  matter,  however,  as  one  of  the  proofs  which 
Robertson  gives  that  he  was  not  very  familiar  with  a 
subject  on  which  he  ventured  to  speak  in  very  broad 
and  general  terms,  but  evidently  without  scrupulous 
exactness.  The  note,  however,  begins  in  the  following 
manner : — 

"  Innumerable  proofs  of  this  might  be  produced.  Many 
charters  granted  by  persons  of  the  highest  rank  are  pre- 
served, from  which  it  appears  that  they  could  not  subscribe 


no.  ii.]  in  Robertson's  charles  v.  11 

their  name.  It  was  usual  for  persons  who  could  not  write,  to 
make  the  sign  of  the  cross  in  confirmation  of  a  charter. 
Several  of  these  remain,  where  kings  and  persons  of  great 
eminence  affix  signum  cruets  manu  propria  pro  ignoratione  lite- 
rarum.  Du  Cange,  voc.  Crux,  vol.  iii.  p.  1191.  From  this  is 
derived  the  phrase  of  signing  instead  of  subscribing  a  paper. 
In  the  ninth  century,  Herbaud  Comes  Palatii,  though 
supreme  judge  of  the  empire  by  virtue  of  his  office,  could  not 
subscribe  his  name.  Nouveau  Traite  de  Diplomatique  par 
deux  Benedictins,  4to.  torn.  ii.  p.  422." — Note  X.  p.  232. 

It  is  extremely  difficult  to  meet  broad  general  asser- 
tions which  it  is,  in  the  nature  of  things,  impossible  to 
disprove ;  but  we  may  reasonably  call  for  evidence  of 
their  truth,  and,  if  it  is  not  produced,  we  may  be 
allowed  to  doubt  and  to  dispute  them.  If  "  many 
charters"  are  preserved  in  which  "kings  and  persons  of 
great  eminence"  avow  their  ignorance,  surely  many 
might  be,  and,  I  think,  would  have  been,  produced. 
The  ignorance  of  the  dark  ages  has  long  been  a  matter 
of  triumphant  retrospect ;  and  such  regal  curiosities  of 
literature,  or  illiterature,  would  have  been  highly  in- 
teresting to  an  enlightened  public.  Perhaps,  indeed, 
"  many"  instances  have  been  adduced  ;  but  I  do  not 
remember  to  have  seen,  or  specifically  heard  of,  more 
than  four.  One  of  them  is,  I  believe,  less  commonly 
known ;  but  the  other  three  have  been  repeatedly 
paraded  in  declamations  on  this  subject. 

First — Withred,  king  of  Kent,  who  reigned  from 
a.d.  671  to  a.d.  725,  and  one  of  whose  charters  is  sub- 
scribed "  Ego  Withredus  Rex  Cantiae  omnia  supra  scripta 
confirmavi,  atque  a  me  dictata  propria  manu  signum 
Sanctge  Crucis  pro  ignorantia  litterarum  expressi." 

Secondly — Tassilo,  Duke  of  Bavaria,  in  the  eighth 
oentury,  subscribed  a  charter  containing  a  grant  to 
Atto,  abbot  of  Saltzburg,  "  quod  manu  propria,  ut 
potui,  characteres  chirographi  inchoando  depinxi  coram 


12  MISREPRESENTATIONS  [no.  II. 

judicibus  atque  optimatibus  meis.     Signum  manus  mese 
proprise  Tassilonis,"  &c. 

Thirdly — Heribaud,  Comte  du  Palais  under  Lewis 
Unsubscribed  a  charter  in  a.d.  873,  "Signum  Heri- 
baldi  Comitis  Sacri  Palatii,  qui  ibi  fui  et  propter  igno- 
rantiam  litterarum,  signum  sancta3  crucis  feci '." 

Fourthly — The  authors  of  the  "  Nouveau  Traite  de 
Diplomatique"  after  arguing  against  those  who  con- 
sidered such  ignorance  as  incredible,  say,  "  L'usage 
d'avouer  pareille  ignorance  est  atteste  par  taut  de  traits 
historiques,  que  toutes  les  chicanes  de  Tesprit  humain 
ne  pourront  en  obscurcir  l'eclat.  II  suffira  d'en  rappeler 
quelques  uns  dans  les  notes."  In  a  note  on  this 
passage  they  exhibit  poor  Withred  "  Roi  de  Cantor- 
beri,"  and  the  "  Comte  du  Palais,"  already  mentioned, 
and  add  the  case  of  Gui  Guerra,  Count  of  Tuscany, 
who  was  reduced  to  the  same  necessity,  "  quia  scribere 
nesciebat."  "II  seroit  superflu,"  say  they,  "daccu- 
muler  un  plus  grand  nombre  de  faits,  pour  verifier  un 
usage,  dont  la  certitude  est  demontree  V 

To  me  it  appears  that  three  or  four  instances,  occur- 
ring between  the  eighth  and  twelfth  centuries,  are  so  far 
from  demonstrating  the  certainty  of  a  custom,  that 
they  do  not  prove  that  anything  which  can  properly- 
be  called  a  custom  existed ;  unless,  indeed,  these 
writers  meant  (as  perhaps  their  language  elsewhere 
might  almost  incline  us  to  believe)  that  these  instances 
prove  the  usage  of  kings  and  great  men,  when  they 
could  not  write,  to  state  that  fact  on  the  face  of  the 
instrument.  There  is,  however,  no  need  to  pursue  this 
point ;  for,  of  course,  I  do  not  mean  to  deny  that  there 

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

2  Tom.  ii.  p.  426. 


no.  il]  in  Robertson's  charles  v.  13 

was,  in  those  days,  a  much  greater  ignorance  of  writing 
than  in  ours,  and  that  men  of  rank  were  much  more 
frequently  unable  to  write  then  than  they  are  now. 
But  when  Robertson  talks  of  "  innumerable  proofs,"  and 
tells  us  that  "  many"  charters  are  preserved,  from  which 
"  it  appears"  that  such  persons  could  not  sign  their 
names,  I  feel  it  right  to  question  his  statement.  Had 
he  seen  the  original  charters  ?  I  very  much  doubt  it. 
If  he  had  seen  them,  would  it  have  enabled  him  to 
decide  the  point  ?  I  am  sure  that  it  would  not ;  and  I 
feel  this  certainty,  not  only  because  I  do  not  give  him 
credit  for  so  much  research  in  re  diplomatica  as  that 
he  should  bring  forward  "  innumerable  proofs"  when 
Mabillon,  and  Toustain  and  Tassin,  gave  only  four 
between  them,  but  from  the  very  nature  of  the  case. 
The  fact  that  a  man's  name  was  subscribed  to  a  docu- 
ment by  another,  was,  in  those  days,  no  proof  that  he 
could  not  have  done  it  himself;  and  though,  in  the 
present  day,  we  should  hardly  give  any  one  credit  for 
being  able  to  write  if  we  found  that  he  had  only  made 
his  mark,  yet  we  must  not  entirely  judge  of  other  ages 
by  our  own. 

Mabillon  has  given  and  discussed  four  reasons  why 
charters  were  frequently  signed  by  proxy : — 1.  The 
inability  of  the  parties  to  write  ;  which  was,  of  course, 
a  very  common  reason,  and  may  well  be  supposed,  upon 
the  great  scale,  to  have  been  the  most  frequent.  Un- 
der this  head  he  gives  the  well-known  story  of  Theo- 
doric,  and  the  three  cases  first  mentioned  above. 
2.  Physical  inability,  arising  from  blindness,  disease, 
or  old  age ;  as  in  the  case  of  Eugenius,  at  the  council 
of  Constantinople,  in  the  year  536,  who  subscribed  by 
the  hand  of  Paul,  a  deacon  of  his  monastery,  wc  w 
Swantvog   Sm   to  yvoac1 ;  of  St.  Omer,  whose  will  was 


1  Cone.  Tom.  V.  p.  136. 


14  MISREPRESENTATIONS  [NO.  II. 

subscribed  — "  Haec  abocellis  feci,  et  alius  manuiii 
meam  tenens  scripsit  et  subscripsit ;"  and  of  some 
others  whom  he  mentions.  3.  An  affectation  of  dig- 
nity, through  which  many  high  official  persons  chose 
that  their  names  should  be  written  by  the  notary.  4. 
What  is  most  to  our  purpose,  a  custom  growing  out 
of  this,  and  extending  so  far  as  that  by  the  eleventh 
century  it  had  become  almost  universal.  In  imitation 
of  their  superiors,  almost  all  persons — all  at  least  who 
could  pretend  to  any  kind  of  distinction  or  title — 
preferred  having  their  names  written  by  the  notary, 
(who  could  say  of  them  what  it  might  have  seemed 
ostentatious  to  say  of  themselves,)  and  then  adding,  or 
sometimes  omitting  to  add,  their  mark — that  is,  the 
sign  of  the  cross  made  with  their  own  hands.  It  will 
be  obvious,  therefore,  that  it  does  not  "  appear"  in  all 
cases,  even  from  the  original  document,  whether  the 
parties  could  write  their  names.  Indeed,  if  it  did  not 
suppose  an  almost  incredible  degree  of  ignorance,  one 
would  be  tempted  to  think  that  Heribaud's  affixing 
the  sign  of  the  cross,  "pro  ignoratione  litterarum,"  had 
led  Robertson  to  infer,  that  all  persons  who  made  the 
sign  of  the  cross  on  such  occasions  did  it  for  the  same 
reasons ;  for  he  says,  it  was  usual  "for  persons  who 
could  not  write  to  make  the  sign  of  the  cross  in  confirm- 
ation of  a  charter."  No  doubt ;  but  it  was  also  usual 
for  those  who  could  write.  The  sign  of  the  cross  was, 
in  fact,  "the  confirmation  and  the  signature2"  and  the 

2  Take,  by  way  of  specimen,  the  subscription  to  the  will  of  Hagano, 
Canon  of  St.  Martin's  at  Tours,  in  a.d.  819: — "Hagano  diaconus 
cessionem  a  me  factam  sub  signum  Sanctac  Crucis  confirmavi." — 
(Martene,  Thesaurus  Novus  Anecdotorum,  vol.  i.  p.  23.)  (And  here  let  me 
say,  by  the  way,  that  as  I  hope  to  make  frequent  reference  to  this  work, 
as  well  as  to  the  "  Veterum  Scriptorum  et  Monumentorum  Amplissima 
Collectio,"  edited  by  Martene  and  Durand,  I  shall  be  glad  to  be  allowed, 
for  brevity's  sake,  to  refer  to  the  former  as  "Mart.,"  and  the  latter  as 
"  M.  &  D.")  A  charter,  too,  of  Robert,  Abbot  of  St.  Martin's  in  the 
same  city,  and  of  the  year  897,  is  subscribed  "  Robertus  Comes  et  inclytae 


no.  ii.]  in  Robertson's  charles  v.  15 

subscriber,  in  thus  making  the  sign  of  his  holy  religion, 
was  considered  as  taking  an  oath.  He  was,  in  fact, 
said  manu  jurare 3 ;  and,  for  greater  solemnity,  the 
cross  was  sometimes  made  with  the  consecrated  wine  4. 
The  subscriber's  adding  his  name  was  no  essential  part 
of  the  confirmation,  but  simply  a  declaration  and  noti- 
fication that  the  person,  whose  name  was  there  written, 
was  he  who  had  thus  bound  himself  by  his  signature. 
If  he  was  unable,  or  if  he  did  not  choose,  to  do  the 
writing  for  himself,  it  was  done  for  him  by  the  notary. 
I  beg  the  reader  not  to  suppose  that  I  wish  to  do 
more  than  to  moderate  the  extravagance  of  Robertson's 
statement,  and  to  show  that  he  made  it  without  suffi- 
cient grounds.  Does  he  not,  in  fact,  shew  this  himself 
when  he  proceeds  to  say. 


congregationis  S.  Martini  Abbas,  per  hoc  signum  Sanctae  Crucis  subter- 
firmare  studuit."  (Mart.  i.  57  )  Or,  to  take  a  subscription  belonging  to 
our  own  country,  which  may,  at  the  same  time,  be  a  specimen  of  notarial 
eloquence  :  — "  Anno  Incarnationis  Dominican  nongentesimo  sexagesimo 
sexto  scripta  est  hujus  privilegii  syngrapha,  his  testibus  consentientibus, 
quorum  inferius  nomina  ordinatim  charaxantur ;"  and  then  follow  the 
subscriptions — "Ego,  Edgar,  divina  largiente  gratia,  Anglorum  Basileus, 
hoc  privilegii  donum  nostro  largiens  Redempton  locoque  ejus  sanctissimo, 
primus  omnium  regum,  monachorum  inibi  collegium  constituens,  manu 
propria  signum  hagia  crucis  imprimens  confirmavi — Ego,  Dunstan,  Doro- 
bernensis  ecclesiae  archiepiscopus,  largifluam  benevoli  Regis  donationem 
venerans,  crucis  signaculo  corroboravi — Ego,  Eadmund,  clytos  legitimus 
praefati  filius,  crucis  signaculum,  infantuli  florens  aetate,  propria  indidi 
manu — Ego  Edward,  eodem  rege  clyto  procreatus,  praefatam  patris  muni- 
ficentiam  crucis  signo  consolidavi — Ego  x-Elfthryth,  legitima  praefati  regis 
conjux,  mea  legatione  monachos  eodem  loco  rege  annuente  constituens, 
crucem  impressi — Ego  Eadgifa  praedicti  regis  ava  hoc  opus  egregium 
crucis  thaumate  consolidavi ;"  and  Athelwold,  Bishop  of  Winchester,  says, 
"  crucis  signaculo  benedixi."     (Cone.  torn.  ix.  673.) 

3  "  Comes  Tolosanus  hanc  eandem  donationem  ibi  deveniens  rogatu 
nostro  corroboravit,  firmavit,  manuque  propria  juravit,  id  est,  subscrip- 
tion crucis." — (Du  Cange  in  v.  Crux.) 

4  "  Interdum  quo  solennius  ac  firmius  esset  pactum,  quod  scribebatur, 
cruces  ipsae  exarabantur  calamo  in  pretioso  Christi  sanguine  intincto." 
(Du  Cange,  ibid.)  See  also  Odo  Aribertus  (cited  by  Baluze  in  his  notes 
on  Agobard,  p.  129),  who  says,  "Pace  itaque  cum  sanguine  eucharistico 
separatim  per  Regem  et  Comitem  firmata  et  obsignata,"  &c. 


16  MISREPRESENTATIONS  [NO.  II. 

"  So  late  as  the  fourteenth  century,  Du  Guesclin,  Con- 
stable of  France,  the  greatest  man  in  the  state,  and  one  of 
the  greatest  men  of  his  age,  could  neither  read  nor  write. 
St.  Palaye  Memoires  sur  Fancienne  Chevalerie,  t.  ii.  p.  82." 

Well,  then,  surely  two  instances  in  the  eighth  century, 
one  in  the  ninth,  and  one  in  the  twelfth,  of  men  of 
rank  who  could  not  write — it  does  not  appear,  and 
really  does  not  follow,  that  they  could  not  read — form 
too  slender  a  ground  for  such  broad  assertions  as 
Robertson  has  ventured  to  make  respecting  the  state 
of  letters. 

Having,  however,  disposed  of  the  laity,  he  pro- 
ceeds : — 

"  Nor  was  this  ignorance  confined  to  laymen  ;  the  greater 
part  of  the  clergy  was  not  many  degrees  superior  to  them  in 
science.  Many  dignified  ecclesiastics  could  not  subscribe 
the  canons  of  those  councils  in  which  they  sat  as  members. 
Nouv.  Traite  de  diplom.,  torn.  ii.  p.  424." 

If  the  reader  turns  to  the  authority  cited,  he  will 
find  some  general  statements  respecting  the  ignorance 
of  the  laity  as  to  writing,  (with  no  specific  instances, 
however,  except  those  already  named,)  but  no  mention 
of  ecclesiastics.  It  is  true,  that,  in  the  succeeding 
pages,  the  bishops  and  other  ecclesiastical  persons  are 
mentioned,  and  several  are  named  in  a  note  at  page 
426 ;  but  Robertson  should  have  observed,  what  is 
there  so  plainly  stated,  "  Tons  ces  exemples  sont  anteriears 
at/  VIP  Siecle."  I  do  not  say  that  later  instances 
might  not  be  produced  ;  but  I  do  not  remember  to 
have  seen  any.     He  proceeds : — 

"  One  of  the  questions  appointed  by  the  canons  to  be  put 
to  persons  who  were  candidates  for  orders  was  this,  i  Whe- 
ther they  could  read  the  Gospels  and  Epistles,  and  explain 
the  sense  of  them,  at  least  literally  V  llcgino  Prumiensis  ap, 
Brock.  Hist.  Philos.  v.  iii.  p.  631." 


no.  il]  in  Robertson's  charles  v.  17 

I  am  sorry  to  say  that  I  have  not  the  Abbot  of 
Prum's  book ;  and  I  must,  therefore,  answer  as  well  as 
I  can  without  it ;  and  perhaps  some  reader  who  has  it, 
or  who  is  so  happy  as  to  have  access  to  a  public  library, 
will  be  kind  enough  to  give  me  an  extract,  or  some  in- 
formation as  to  the  specific  canon  to  which  Robertson 
(or  rather  Brucker)  refers.  In  the  mean  time  I  must 
observe — 

First — That  supposing  all  which  Robertson  meant  to 
convey  to  the  reader  were  true,  still  such  a  canon 
would  show  that,  bad  as  things  were,  there  was  some 
attempt  to  mend  them.  Granting  that  up  to  about 
the  year  900,  when  Regino  wrote,  all  bishops,  priests, 
and  deacons  had  been  entirely  ignorant  and  illiterate — 
granting  that  these  very  canons  were  written  by  those 
who  could  not  write,  for  the  use  of  those  who  could 
not  read,  still  they  would  be  a  standing  proof  that  the 
heads  of  the  church  did,  at  that  time,  require  even 
from  candidates  for  orders,  what  Robertson  would  lead 
us  to  consider  as  rather  an  unusual  accomplishment  in 
a  bishop. 

Secondly — Though  I  have  not  Regino's  book,  I  have 
Brucker's,  from  whence  Robertson  professes  to  borrow 
the  quotation ;  but,  on  turning  to  it,  I  find  a  very  im- 
portant difference.     The  reader  will  observe  that  the 
question,  even  as  Robertson  gives  it,  is,  in  fact,  whether 
the  candidate  could  read  Latin  publicly,  and  explain 
the  meaning;  but,  beside  this,  the  inquiry  was  really 
essentially  different.     It  was  not  whether  the   candi- 
date had  learned  to  read,  nor  even  whether  he  could 
read  Latin;    but   whether  he  could  read  Latin    well. 
The  words,  as  quoted  by  Brucker,  are — "  Si  Evangelium 
et  Epistolam  bene  legere  possit,  atque  saltim  ad  literam 
sensus  ejus  manifestare.     Item,  si  sermonem  S.  Atha- 
nasii  de  fide  SS.  Trinitatis  memoriter  teneat,  et  sen- 
sum    ejus    iulelligat.  et  verbis  communibus  emintiare 

c 


18  STATE    OF    LEARNING  [NO.  II. 

sciat."  Surely  there  was  no  proof  of  brutal  ignorance 
in  inquiring  whether  a  candidate  for  holy  orders  could 
read  Latin  well  in  public — could  repeat,  understand, 
and  explain  the  Athanasian  Creed,  and  preach  the  doc- 
trine contained  in  it,  in  the  vernacular  tongue.  The 
question  did  not  imply  the  slightest  doubt  whether  the 
man  could  read ;  but  only  directed  an  inquiry  whether 
he  could  do  that  which  many  a  man  of  the  present 
day,  who  has  chuckled  over  the  ignorance  of  the  dark 
ages,  could  not  do. 

Thirdly — If  my  object  were  merely  to  answer 
Robertson,  I  should  think  that  I  had  said  enough  on 
this  point ;  but  having  a  farther  and  more  important 
design,  let  me,  without  at  present  entering  very  fully 
into  the  subject,  give  a  few  extracts  from  "the  canons," 
and  one  or  two  writers  of  the  dark  ages,  or  at  least  of 
the  period  to  which  Robertson  refers. 

Isidore,  Archbishop  of  Seville,  who  lived  until  the 
year  636,  in  his  work  on  Ecclesiastical  Offices,  has  a 
chapter  of  rules  for  the  clergy,  in  which  he  says,  that 
they  should  be  "  continually  occupied  in  teaching,  in 
reading,  in  psalms,  and  hymns,  and  spiritual  songs  5 ;" 
which  seems  to  imply,  at  least,  that  in  his  time  it  was 
no  uncommon  thing  for  the  clergy  to  be  able  to  read. 

At  the  eighth  council  of  Toledo,  held  in  a.d.  653, 
regret  was  expressed  that  persons  had  been  admitted 
into  holy  orders  who  were  altogether  incompetent  to 
the  discharge  of  clerical  duties ;  and  it  was  expressly 
provided,  that  no  one  should  be  admitted  to  any  degree 
of  ecclesiastical  dignity  unless  he  knew  the  whole 
Psalter,  the  hymns  of  the  church,  and  the  office  for 
baptism ;  and  that  those  who  had  been  admitted  with- 
out such  necessary  knowledge  should  forthwith  set  to 
work  to  acquire  it,  or  be  made  to  do  so  by  their  supr- 

'  Bib.  Pat.  x.  203. 


NO.  II.]  AMONG    THE    CLERGY.  19 

riors.  "  For,"  says  the  canon,  "  it  is  absurd  that  they 
who  are  ignorant  of  the  law  of  God,  and  not  at  least 
moderately  learned,  should  be  promoted  to  any  degree 
of  orders,  or  ecclesiastical  office,  in  wThich  it  is  their 
business  to  teach  simple  and  lay  persons,  to  whom 
they  ought  to  be  mirrors  of  life  and  discipline.  Let 
no  one,  then,  who  is  unlearned,  approach  to  meddle 
with  the  holy  mysteries  of  God6  ....  none  who  is 
blinded  by  the  darkness  of  ignorance ;  but  let  him  only 
come  who  is  adorned  with  innocence  of  life  and  splen- 
dour of  learning.  Otherwise  the  vengeance  of  God, 
and  of  his  church,  will  hereafter  fall  on  both  the 
ordainers  and  the  ordained  7." 

Whether  the  council  of  Nantes,  to  which  the  fol- 
lowing canon  belongs,  was  held  in  the  year  658,  or 
more  than  two  centuries  after,  has  been  disputed ;  but, 
either  way,  it  falls  within  Robertson's  period,  and  is 
in  itself  worth  notice : — "  When  a  bishop  purposes  to 
hold  an  ordination,  all  those  who  are  candidates  for 
holy  orders  are  to  be  cited  to  the  city  on  the  Wednes- 
day preceding,  together  with  the  archpresbyters,  who 
are  to  present  them.  And  then  the  bishop  is  to 
appoint  priests  and  other  prudent  men,  skilled  in  the 
divine  law,  and  conversant  with  the  ecclesiastical 
sanctions,  who  shall  diligently  inquire  as  to  the  life, 
family,  country,  age,  and  education  of  the  candidates  ? 
and  as  to  the  place  where  they  were  educated,  whether 
they  have  made  good  progress  in  learning,  (si  shit  bene 
literati,)  and  are  instructed  in  the  law  of  the  Lord. 
Above  all  things,  whether  they  firmly  hold  the  catholic 
faith,  and  are  able  to  set  it  forth  in  plain  language. 
Those,  however,  to  whom  this  is  entrusted  must  take 
care  that  they  do  not  depart  from  the  faith,  either  from 
favour  or  for  interest,  so  as  to  present  to  the  bishop 


There  is  apparently  some  hiatus  in  the  MSS.  "  Cone.  vi.  40G. 

c2 


20  STATE    OF    LEARNING  [NO.  II. 

any  unworthy  or  unfit  person  to  receive  holy  orders ; 
for  should  they  do  this,  he  who  has  unworthily  ap- 
proached the  altar  shall  be  removed  from  it ;  and  they 
who  have  attempted  to  sell  the  gift  of  the  Holy  Ghost, 
being  already  condemned  in  the  sight  of  God,  shall  be 
deprived  of  their  ecclesiastical  dignity.  They  shall, 
therefore,  be  diligently  examined  during  three  follow- 
ing days,  and  then  those  who  are  approved  shall  be 
presented  to  the  bishop  on  the  Saturday 8." 

To  come  to  our  own  country,  it  was  decreed  by  the 
sixth  canon  of  the  council  held  at  Cliffe,  or  Cloveshou, 
near  Rochester,  in  the  year  747,  "  that  the  bishops 
shall  ordain  no  man,  either  of  clerks  or  monks,  to 
the  holy  degree  of  priesthood  without  public  inquiry 
as  to  his  previous  life,  and  his  present  purity  of 
morals,  and  knowledge  of  the  faith.  For  how  can 
he  preach  to  others  the  whole  faith,  minister  the 
word  of  knowledge,  and  appoint  to  sinners  the  mea- 
sure of  penance,  unless  he  first,  with  studious  care, 
according  to  the  measure  of  his  capacity,  takes  pains 
to  learn,  so  that,  according  to  the  apostle,  he  may 
be  able  to  'exhort  according  to  sound  doctrine'?" 
The  seventh  canon  directs,  "  that  bishops,  abbots,  and 
abbesses  ....  shall  study  and  provide,  with  diligent 
care,  that  the  custom  of  continual  reading  may  be 
practised  in  their  societies,  and  may  become  more 
common,  to  the  benefit  of  souls  and  the  praise  of  the 
eternal  King.  For  it  is  a  lamentable  thing  to  say 
that,  in  these  times,  very  few  are  to  be  found  who  are 
carried  away  by  a  thoroughly  hearty  love  of  holy  learn- 
ing, (qui  ex  intimo  corde  sacra  scientice  rapiantur  amore9) 
and  they  are  scarcely  willing  to  take  much  pains  to 
learn  anything;  but  rather  from  their  youth  they  are 
occupied  with  divers  vanities,  and  lusts  of  vain  glory ; 

(one.  ix.  471. 


NO.  II.]  AMONG   THE    CLERGY.  21 

and,  with  wandering  minds,  they  seek  after  the  un- 
stable things  of  this  world  rather  than  the  unchange- 

©  © 

able  things  of  holy  scripture.  Let  them,  therefore, 
be  compelled  ;  and  let  the  children  in  the  schools  be 
brought  up  to  the  love  of  sacred  learning,  that,  by  these 
means,  well-educated  persons  may  be  found  for  every 
kind  of  service  in  the  church  of  God.  Nor  let  their 
earthly  rulers  be  so  tenacious  of  their  services,  as  that 
the  house  of  God  should  fall  into  contempt,  being 
destitute  of  all  spiritual  ornament 9." 

This  brings  us  to  the  time  of  Charlemagne,  of  whose 
exertions  in  the  cause  of  literature  I  hope  to  say  more 
hereafter;  but,  in  the  mean  time,  I  must  just  notice 
his  Capitulary  of  Aix-la-Chapelle,  addressed  to  the 
ecclesiastical  authorities  in  a.d.  789.  He  says,  "We 
beseech  your  piety,  that  the  ministers  of  God's  altar 
may  adorn  their  ministry  by  good  morals — whether, 
as  canons,  by  the  observance  of  their  order,  or,  as 
monks,  by  the  performance  of  their  vow — we  entreat 
that  they  may  maintain  a  good  and  laudable  life  and 
conversation,  as  our  Lord  in  the  gospel  commands, 
'  Let  your  light  so  shine  before  men,  that  they  may  see 
your  good  works,  and  glorify  your  Father  which  is  in 
heaven ;'  so  that,  by  their  good  conversation,  many 
may  be  drawn  to  God.  And  let  them  collect  and  keep 
under  their  care,  {(tdgregent  sibique  socient,)  not  only 
children  of  servile  condition,  but  those  belonging  to 
persons  of  better  rank  ;  and  let  there  be  schools  of 
reading  boys.  In  all  monasteries  and  dioceses,  let 
them  learn  the  Psalms,  the  musical  notes,  the  chants, 
the    calendar1,    and    grammar.       But    let    them    have 


9  Cone.  vi.  1575. 

1  "  Chants  and  calendar"  is  not  a  very  satisfactory  translation  of  "  can- 
tus  et  compotus."  To  call  the  latter  (as  I  have  seen  it  called)  "  the  com- 
port" would  not  be  very  intelligible  to  the  English  reader.  Still  calendar 
does  not  express  the  thing,  which  was  rather  that  learning,  that  compotus, 


22  STATE    OF    LEARNING  [NO.  II. 

catholic  books  well  corrected  ;  because  frequently, 
when  they  desire  to  pray  for  anything  very  properly, 
they  ask  amiss,  by  reason  of  incorrect  books.  And 
do  not  suffer  your  boys  to  spoil  the  books,  by  either 
their  reading  or  writing ;  and  if  you  want  a  gospel  or 
a  missal  to  be  written,  let  it  be  done  by  men  of  mature 
age,  with  all  diligence  V  Again,  in  the  Capitula  data 
Presbyteris,  in  the  year  804,  he  says,  "  I  would  admo- 
nish you,  my  brethren  and  sons,  to  give  attention  to 
these  few  capitula  which  follow : — first,  that  a  priest 
of  God  should  be  learned  in  holy  scripture,  and  rightly 
believe,  and  teach  to  others,  the  faith  of  the  Trinity, 
and  be  able  properly  to  fulfil  his  office.  Secondly, 
that  he  should  have  the  whole  Psalter  by  heart. 
Thirdly,  that  he  should  know  bv  heart  the  Creed  and 
the  office  for  Baptism.  Fourthly,  that  he  should  be 
learned  in  the  Canons,  and  well  know  his  Penitential. 
Fifthly,  that  he  should  know  the  Chants  and  the  Calen- 
dar3." More  might  be  quoted  from  this  source,  but 
perhaps  it  is  not  necessary  for  my  present  purpose, — 
which  is,  to  shew  that  it  was  pretty  commonly  taken 
for  granted  that  a  clerk  could  read. 

But,  in  case  any  reader  should  have  thought  that  I 
lay  undue  stress  on  the  word  bene,  and  should  suppose 
(as  it  is  charitable  to  hope  that  Robertson  did  when  he 
left  it  out),  that  it  was  a  mere  expletive,  I  will  here 
give  an  extract  from  a  writer  of  this  period,  from  which 
it  will  appear  that  the  inquiry  as  to  reading  well  was 
one  actually  and  particularly  made.     Rabanus  Maurus. 


or  computus,  which  would  enable  a  computista,  or  artis  computatorite  magis- 
ter,  to  make  a  calendar,  or  computorium ;  and  some  of  which  (enough 
to  shew  its  nature)  the  reader  may  find  in  the  beginning  of  his  Prayer 
Book.  I  may  however,  perhaps,  be  allowed  at  present  to  pass  over  some 
words  without  explanation,  of  which  I  hope  to  speak  more  fully  hereafter. 
What  is  implied  in  knowing  the  cantus,  computus,  grammatica,  and 
penitential,  will  then  more  fully  appear. 

-  Capit.  Reg.  Fr.  edit.  Baluz  ,  torn.  i.  237-  '  Ibid.  p.  417. 


NO.  II.]  AMONG    THE    CLERGY.  23 

who  was  afterwards  Archbishop  of  Mentz,  and  who 
wrote  his  book  De  Institutione  Clericorum  in  the 
year  819,  says,  "The  canons  and  the  decrees  of  Pope 
Zosimus  have  decided,  that  a  clerk  proceeding  to  holy 
orders  shall  continue  five  years  among  the  readers,  or 
exorcists;  and,  after  that,  shall  be  an  acolyte,  or  snb- 
deacon,  four  years.  That  he  shall  not  be  admitted  to 
deacon's  orders  before  he  is  twenty-five  years  of  age ; 
and  that  if,  during  five  years,  he  ministers  irreproach- 
ably, he  may  be  promoted  to  priest's  orders ;  but  on  no 
account  before  he  is  thirty  years  of  age,  even  though 
he  should  be  peculiarly  qualified,  for  our  Lord  himself 
did  not  begin  to  preach  until  he  had  attained  that 
age  4."  Now,  as  Rabanus  had  just  before  remarked, 
"  Lectores"  are  so  called  "  a  legendo ;"  and  if  a  man 
was  to  fill  that  office  for  five  years  before  he  became 
even  a  subdeacon,  we  may  reasonably  suppose  that, 
when  he  came  to  be  examined  for,  what  the  Romish 
church  calls,  greater  orders,  it  might  be  taken  for 
granted  that  he  had  learned  to  read ;  but  as  to  reading 
well,  (I  hope  no  offence  to  modern  times,)  it  certainly 
was  then  quite  another  question,  and  one  to  which 
some  attention  was  paid.  "  He,"  says  Rabanus,  "  who 
would  rightly  and  properly  perforin  the  duty  of  a 
reader,  must  be  imbued  with  learning,  and  conversant 
with  books,  and  instructed  in  the  meaning  of  words, 
and  the  knowledge  of  words  themselves ;  so  that  he 
may  understand  the  divisions  of  sentences,  where  a 
clause  ends,  where  the  sense  is  carried  on,  and  where 
the  sentence  closes.  Being  thus  prepared,  he  will 
obtain  such  a  power  of  reading  as  that,  by  various 
modes  of  delivery — now  simply  narrating,  now  lament- 
ing, now  angry,  now  rebuking,  exhorting,  pitying, 
inquiring,  and  the  like,  according  to  circumstances — 


4  Lib.  i.  c.  xiii.  ap.  Bib.  Pat.  torn.  x.  57-'. 


24  STATE    OF    LEARNING  [NO.  II. 

he  will  affect  the  understanding  and  feelings  of  all  his 
hearers.  For  there  are  many  things  in  the  scriptures, 
which,  if  they  are  not  properly  pronounced,  give  a 
wrong  sense  ;  as  that  of  the  apostle — '  Who  shall  lay 
anything  to  the  charge  of  God's  elect  ?  God  who  jus- 
tifieth.' — Now  if,  instead  of  pronouncing  this  properly, 
it  were  to  be  delivered  confirmatively,  it  would  create 
great  error.  It  is,  therefore,  to  be  so  pronounced  as 
that  the  first  clause  may  be  a  percontation,  and  the 
second  an  interrogate.  Between  a  percontation  and 
interrogation,  the  ancients  made  this  distinction — that 
the  former  admitted  a  variety  of  answers,  while  the 
latter  must  be  replied  to  by  'yes'  or  'no.'  It  must, 
therefore,  be  so  read  that,  after  the  percontation — 
*  Who  shall  lay  anything  to  the  charge  of  God's  elect?' 
— that  wThich  follows  be  pronounced  in  an  interrogatory 
manner — 'God  that  justifieth?' — that  there  may  be  a 
tacit  answer,  '  no.'  And  again  we  have  the  perconta- 
tion— '  Who  is  he  that  condemneth  ? '  and  again  we 
interrogate — '  Christ  that  died  ?  or  rather  that  is  risen 
again  ?  who  is  at  the  right  hand  of  God  ?  who  also 
maketh  intercession  for  us?'  At  each  of  which  there 
is  a  tacit  answer  in  the  negative.  But  in  that  passage 
where  he  says,  '  What  shall  we  then  say  ?  that  the 
Gentiles,  which  followed  not  after  righteousness,  have 
attained  to  righteousness,'  unless  after  the  perconta- 
tion— '  What  shall  we  say  then  ? ' — the  answer  were 
added — *  that  the  Gentiles  which  followed  not  after 
righteousness  have  attained  to  righteousness,'  the  con- 
nexion with  what  follows  would  be  destroyed.  And 
there  are  many  other  parts  which,  in  like  manner, 
require  to  be  distinguished  by  the  manner  of  pro- 
nouncing them.  Beside  this,  a  reader  ought  to 
understand  the  force  of  the  accents,  that  he  may  know 
what  syllables  he  is  to  lengthen ;  for  there  are  many 
words  which  can  only  be  prevented  from  conveying  a 


NO.  II.]  AMONG   THE    CLERGY.  25 

wrong  meaning  by  being  pronounced  with  the  proper 
accent.  But  these  things  he  must  learn  from  the 
grammarians.  Moreover  the  voice  of  a  reader  should 
be  pure  and  clear,  and  adapted  to  every  style  of  speak- 
ing, full  of  manly  strength,  and  free  from  all  that  is 
rude  or  countrified.  Not  low,  nor  yet  too  high ;  not 
broken,  not  weak,  and  by  no  means  feminine ;  not 
with  inflated  or  gasping  articulation,  or  words  mouthed 
about  in  his  jaws,  or  echoing  through  his  empty 
mouth ;  not  harsh  from  his  grinding  his  teeth ;  not 
projected  from  a  wide-open  mouth, — but  distinctly, 
equally,  mildly  pronounced  ;  so  that  each  letter  shall 
have  its  proper  sound,  and  each  word  its  proper  quan- 
tity, and  that  the  matter  be  not  spoiled  by  any  affecta- 
tion 5." 

It  is  true  that  Rabanus  Maurus  has  taken  the  sub- 
stance of  this  from  Isidore  of  Seville 6,  who  wrote  more 
than  two  hundred  years  before,  though  he  has  im- 
proved it;  but  if  it  was  good,  why  should  it  not  be 
repeated?  So  thought  Ivo,  Bishop  of  Chartres,  who 
gave  it  again  in  his  discourses  De  Rebus  Ecclesias- 
ticis  7,  nearly  three  hundred  years  after  Rabanus  wrote 
— and  I  cannot  help  suspecting  that  if  Robertson 
had  gone  to  the  Archbishop  of  Seville  in  the  seventh 
century,  the  Archbishop  of  Mayence  in  the  ninth,  or 
the  Bishop  of  Chartres  in  the  eleventh,  for  holy  orders, 
he  would  have  found  the  examination  rather  more 
than  he  expected.  If  I  have  failed  to  convince  the 
reader  of  this,  by  the  extracts  already  given,  I  shall 
hope  to  do  so  hereafter ;  but  I  think  that  what  has 
been  said  must  be  sufficient  to  shew  that  it  was  not  a 
very  uncommon  thing,  even  in  the  dark  ages,  for  the 
clergy  to  be  able  to  read  and  write. 


5  Lib.  ii.  c.  lii.  Bib.  Pat.  x.  6 16. 

fi  I)e  Eccles.  Offic,  lib.  ii.  c.  xi.,  Bib.  Pat.  x.  209. 

7  Menu.  ii.  ap.  Bib.  Pat.  x.  774. 


26  STATE    OF    LEARNING  [NO.  III. 


No.  III. 

"  nil  dulcius  est,  bene  quam  munita  tenere 

Edita  doctrina  sapientum  templa  serena ; 

Despicere  unde  queas  alios,  passimque  videre 

Errare,  atque  viam  palanteis  quserere  vitas." — Lucretius. 

"  Rivers  of  waters  run  down  mine  eyes,   because   they  keep  not  thy 
law." — Ps.  cxix. 

When  I  began  the  preceding  paper,  I  had  no  idea  of 
replying  to  Robertson's  character  of  the  clergy  during 
the  dark  ages  at  such  length;  and  meant  only  to 
notice,  very  briefly,  such  parts  of  his  statement  as  are 
absolutely  untrue.  I  intended,  until  I  should  have 
thus  gone  through  his  remarks,  to  say  little  or  nothing 
on  matters  which  may  be  more  conveniently,  intelli- 
gibly, and  convincingly,  discussed  after  untruths  have 
been  exposed,  and  the  prejudices  created  and  fostered 
by  them  removed  ;  and  also,  after  a  variety  of  facts 
have  been  adduced,  which  may  be  referred  to  for  proof 
or  illustration.  Perhaps  enough  has  been  already  said 
to  shew  that  the  clergy  of  the  period  to  which  Robert- 
son refers  were  not  so  universally,  or  even  so  entirely, 
ignorant  as  might  be  supposed  from  his  language ;  yet, 
having  said  so  much,  and  considering  that  it  all  tends 
to  the  elucidation  of  our  subject  in  more  than  one  way, 
I  feel  desirous  (without  professing  here  to  enter  fully 
into  the  matter)  to  add  one  or  two  more  extracts, 
which  are  not,  I  think,  in  themselves  uninteresting. 

From  the  Constitutions  of  Reculfus,  who  became 
Bishop  of  Soissons  in  a.d.  879,  and  who  is  supposed  to 
have  issued  these  instructions  to  his  clergy  ten  years 
afterwards,  it  appears  as  if  he  took  it  for  granted  that 
they  could,  not  only  read,  but  write.  The  fourth,  fifth, 
and  sixth  sections  are  as  follows  : — "  Know,  therefore, 
that  this  is  addressed  to  you,  '  Be  ye  clean,  ye  that  bear 


XO.  III.]  AMOXG    THE    CLERGY.  27 

the  vessels  of  the  Lord  8 ; '  which  you  must  not  suppose 
to  refer  only  to  the  cleansing  of  the  chalice  and  paten, 
wherein  the  body  and  blood  of  Christ  is  consecrated, 
but  also  to  personal  cleanliness  and  mental  purity. 
For,  as  St.  Gregory  says,  in  treating  of  the  parable  of 
the  ten  virgins,  '  Our  vessels  are  our  hearts,  wherein 
we  bear  about  with  us  all  our  thoughts  V  We  have, 
therefore,  a  frail  vessel,  that  is,  our  body,  which  we 
ought  always  to  keep  clean,  with  the  most  scrupulous 
care ;  so  that,  while  we  offer  '  pure  offerings,'  we  also 
ourselves  may  be  acceptable  sacrifices  before  his  holy 
altar.  Also  we  admonish  that  each  one  of  you  should 
endeavour  to  have  by  heart,  truly  and  correctly,  the 
Psalms,  the  Discourse  on  the  Catholic  Faith,  which 
begins  "  Quicumque  vult,"  &c,  and  the  Canon  of  the 
Mass,  and  the  Chants,  and  the  Calendar.  The  office 
for  Baptism,  (both  for  male  and  female  children,  and 
also  singular  and  plural,)  as  well  as  the  offices  for  con- 
secrating fonts,  water  to  be  sprinkled  in  houses,  the 
commendation  of  the  soul,  and  the  prayers  at  the  burial 
of  the  dead,  you  are  to  have  distinctly  and  correctly 
written  out ;  and,  by  frequent  study,  you  are  to  qualify 
yourselves  to  perform  them  correctly  and  unblameably 
for  both  men  and  women.  As  to  the  aforesaid  office 
for  the  baptism  of  infants,  we  would  that  you  should 
write  it  out  in  a  fourfold  manner ;  that  is  to  say,  the 
singular  masculine  and  the  singular  feminine ;  the 
plural  masculine  and  the  plural  feminine ;  as  we,  if 
♦Christ  permit,  will  furnish  you  with  a  copy.  Also  we 
admonish  that  each  one  of  you  should  be  careful  to 
have  a  Missal,  Lectionary,  a  Book  of  the  Gospels,  a 
Martyrology,  an  Antiphonary,  Psalter,  and  a  Book  of 

s  "Mundamini  qui  fertis  vasa  Domini."  Isaiah  lii.  11.  I  give  the 
words  of  our  translation;  and  wish  to  mention  that  I  do  so  wherever 
there  is  not  any  material  variation. 

9  Horn,  in  Evan.  XII.,  t.  ii.  p.  357. 


28  STATE    OF    LEARNING  [NO.  III. 

Forty  Homilies  of  St.  Gregory,  corrected  and  pointed 
by  our  copies  which  we  use  in  the  holy  mother  church. 
And,  also,  fail  not  to  have  as  many  sacred  and  eccle- 
siastical books  as  you  can  get ;  for  from  them  you  shall 
receive  food  and  condiment  for  your  souls,  our  Lord 
himself  having  declared,  '  Man  doth  not  live  by  bread 
alone;  but  by  every  word  that  proceedeth  out  of  the 
mouth  of  God.'  If,  however,  any  one  of  you  is  not 
able  to  obtain  all  the  books  of  the  Old  Testament,  at 
least  let  him  diligently  take  pains  to  transcribe  for  him- 
self correctly  the  first  book  of  the  whole  sacred  history, 
that  is,  Genesis  ;  by  reading  which  he  may  come  to  un- 
derstand the  creation  of  the  world  V 

This,  as  I  have  observed,  seems  to  imply  that  the 
priests  in  the  diocese  of  Soissons,  in  the  ninth  century, 
could  both  read  and  write  ;  and,  indeed,  from  the  six- 
teenth section,  it  appears  that  the  secular  clergy  in  that 
diocese  kept  schools ;  and  so  not  only  read  and  wrote 
themselves,  but  were  the  causes  of  reading  and  writing 
in  others.  But  this  is  anticipating  ;  for  what  reader  of 
Robertson  is  prepared  to  believe  that  the  schoolmaster 
was  abroad  in  the  ninth  century  ?  I  will,  therefore, 
only  here  add  one  more  extract  on  this  subject,  and 
that  shall  be  from  the  history  of  our  own  country.  The 
Canons  of  iElfric,  whether  we  owe  them  to  the  arch- 
bishop or  the  grammarian,  or  whether  they  were  one 
and  the  same  person,  were  written  between  the  years 
950  and  1000.  They  were  addressed  to  Wulfin,  Bishop 
of  Sherborn  ;  and  written  in  such  a  form  as  that  he 
might  communicate  them  to  his  clergy  as  a  kind  of 
episcopal  charge.  The  twenty-first  canon  orders — 
"  Every  priest,  also,  before  he  is  ordained,  must  have 
the  arms  belonging  to  his  spiritual  work  ;  that  is,  the 
holy  books — namely,  the  Psalter,  the  Book  of  Epistles, 
and  the  Book  of  Gospels,    the   Missal,   the   Book  of 

1  Cone.  ix.  p.  418. 


NO.  III.]  AMONG   THE    CLERGY.  29 

Hymns,  the  Manual,  the  Calendar2,  the  Passional,  the 
Poenitential,  and  the  Lectionary.  These  books  a  priest 
requires,  and  cannot  do  without,  if  he  would  properly 
fulfil  his  office,  and  desires  to  teach  the  law  to  the 
people  belonging  to  him.  And  let  him  carefully  see 
that  they  are  well  written." 

The  passage  of  Regino,  quoted  by  Robertson — of 
which,  in  this  long  reply,  I  am  afraid  the  reader  has 
almost  lost  sight — tempts  me  to  add  the  twenty-third 
canon — "The  mass  priest  shall,  on  Sundays  and  on 
mass-days,  explain  the  Gospel  in  English  to  the  people ; 
and,  by  the  Lord's-prayer  and  the  creed,  he  shall,  as 
often  as  he  can,  stir  them  up  to  faith  and  the  main- 
tenance of  Christianity.  Let  the  teacher  be  warned  to 
avoid  that  which  the  prophet  has  said — '  Canes  muti  non 
possunt  latrare' — '  Dumb  dogs,  they  cannot  bark.'  We 
ought  to  bark  and  preach  to  the  laity,  lest  perchance 
we  should  cause  them  to  perish  for  lack  of  knowledge. 
Christ  saith  in  his  Gospel  of  ignorant  teachers,  '  if  the 
blind  lead  the  blind,  both  fall  into  the  ditch.'  Blind  is 
the  teacher  if  he  is  illiterate,  and  deceives  the  laity  by 
his  ignorance.    Beware  of  this,  as  your  office  requires 3." 


2  The  Latin  translation  in  .Wilkins's  Councils  has  numerate;  that  in 
Labbe's  preserves  the  original  Anglo-Saxon  gerim;  and  I  translate  it 
calendar,  because  I  have  no  doubt  that  it  means  the  compotus,  which  I 
have  before  (somewhat  improperly)  so  translated.  It  occurs  in  a  "  Calen- 
darium  seu  Menologium  Poeticum,"  given  by  Hickes,  Thes.  Ling.  Velt. 
Sept.,  torn.  i.  p.  203,  from  a  MS.  in  the  Cottonian  Library,  at  the  18th 
line  lanuapmr  sepim,  where  it  is  translated  "Januarium  Calendarii ;'' 
and  in  a  note  on  it,  at  p.  209,  he  says,  "  Sic  enim  sepnn,  ut  rtjm  apud 
veteres  calendarium,  fastos,  ephemerida  denotat."  Considering  the  pur- 
pose for  which  I  write,  it  may  be  worth  while  to  state  that  Collier,  in  his 
Ecclesiastical  History,  vol.  i.  p.  207,  gives  this  canon,  thus  : — M  By  the 
one-and-twentieth,  '  Every  priest,  before  his  ordination,  was  obliged  to  be 
furnished  with  church  books,  that  is,  with  a  Psalter ;  a  Book  of  Epistles 
and  Gospels  ;  a  Missale  ;  a  Book  of  Church  Hymns  ;  a  Penitentiale,  and  a 
Lectionarie,  or  Raeding  Boc,"  &c,  thus  leaving  out  the  Gerim,  Manual,  and 
Passional ;  a  convenient  way  of  quoting. 

3  Wilkins's  Cone,  i.  250. 


30  MISREPRESENTATIONS  [NO.  III. 

To  proceed,  however,  with  Robertson  : — 

"  Alfred  the  Great  complained  that,  from  the  Humber  to 
the  Thames,  there  was  not  a  priest  who  understood  the 
liturgy  in  his  mother  tongue,  or  who  could  translate  the 
easiest  piece  of  Latin  ;  and  that,  from  the  Thames  to  the  sea, 
the  ecclesiastics  were  still  more  ignorant.  Asserus  de  rebus 
gestis  Alfredi,  ap.  Camdeni.  Anglica,  &c,  p.  25.  The  igno- 
rance of  the  clergy  is  quaintly  described  by  an  author  of  the 
dark  ages.  '  Potius  dediti  guise  quam  Glossae  ;  potius  colligunt 
libras  quam  legunt  libros ;  libentius  intuentur  Martham  quam 
Marcum ;  malunt  legere  in  Salmone  quam  in  Solomone.' 
Alan  us  de  art.  Prseclicat.  ap.  Lebeuf.  Dissert,  torn.  ii.  p.  21." 
—p.  233. 

I  will  not  here  run  into  what  must  necessarily  be  a 
long  discourse  about  Alfred,  and  which  would  anti- 
cipate what  I  may  more  properly  say  when  some  facts 
shall  have  come  under  notice  which  may  enable  us  to 
form  a  better  judgment  of  the  state  of  things  in  Eng- 
land during  the  reign  of  that  monarch,  as  well  as  before 
and  after  it.  Here  I  only  observe  that,  supposing 
Robertson's  statement  to  be  quite  correct4,  it  only 
shews  that  the  Anglo-Saxons  were  at  that  period 
behind  their  neighbours  on  the  continent  of  Europe ; 
which  nobody  would  think  of  disputing.  Let  us,  there- 
fore, with  Robertson,  leap  over  about  three  centuries, 
and  into  Flanders,  to  see  how  quaintly  "  the  ignorance 
of  the  clergy"  was  described  by  Alanus.  Are  we  to  take 
this  as  the  character  of  "the  clergy" generally  in  all  places 
during  the  dark  ages?  or  only  of  "the  clergy"  in  the  time 
and  neighbourhood  of  Alanus?  And  is  it  by  jumping  over 
time  and  space  in  this  manner,  to  pick  out  parts  of  sen- 
tences, that  we  can  hope  to  understand  the  matter  aright? 


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


no.  in.]  in  Robertson's  charles  v.  31 

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

It  is,  however,  very  important,  and  very  much  to 
our  present  purpose,  to  add  a  few  words  on  this  sub- 


32  LEARNING   AND    MORALS  [NO.  III. 

ject ;  because  I  apprehend  that,  for  the  want  of  a  little 
consideration,  many  persons  have  been  led  into  a  mis- 
taken view  of  the  case.  There  were  in  the  dark  ages 
(as  well  as  at  other  times)  two  sets  of  persons,  from 
whose  writings  it  is  easy  to  cull  passages  describing 
"the  clergy"  as  less  learned  and  religious  than  they 
were  bound  to  be  ;  and  each  tempted  to  detail,  and 
perhaps  to  exaggerate,  the  vices  of  ecclesiastics. 

First,  there  were  those  who  hated  the  religion  which 
the  clergy  maintained,  and  who  envied  the  pro- 
perty, privileges,  and  influence  which  they  enjoyed  ; 
and  which  (whatever  the  personal  character  of  some  of 
them  might  be)  they  generally  employed  to  check  the 
licentiousness  of  others.  Among  these  there  have 
perhaps  always  been  facetious  persons  who  have  con- 
sidered religion  and  its  ministers  as  fit  subjects  for 
their  drollery ;  and  who  have  delighted  to  represent 
the  clergy  as  a  vile  race  of  knaves  and  fools,  character- 
ized only  by  pride,  sensuality,  avarice,  and  ambition, 
except  where  all  these,  and  all  that  was  better,  was 
kept  under  by  idiot  superstition.  Yet,  as  far  as  I 
know,  there  was  but  little  of  this  ribaldry  during  the 
period  of  which  Robertson  writes.  He  talks  of  the 
seventh  to  the  eleventh  century;  but  for  the  single 
instance  which  he  gives,  (and  I  cannot  but  doubt 
whether  it  properly  belongs  to  this  class,)  he  goes  to, 
at  least,  the  middle  of  the  twelfth  century.  Without 
entering  into  the  dispute  about  the  precise  period,  or 
the  identity  of  Alanus,  this  is  the  earliest  date  that  can 
be  assigned  to  him ;  and,  in  fact,  it  is  to  the  thirteenth, 
and  yet  more  to  the  fourteenth  and  fifteenth,  century 
that  we  must  go  for  quaint  descriptions  of  the  cor- 
rupted church.  I  should  like  very  much  to  bring  for- 
ward some  of  these,  with  the  remarks  of  some  modern 
writers  on  them  ;  but  I  am  afraid  that,  notwithstanding 
all  I  have  said,  such  a  proceeding  really  would  be  a 


NO.  III.]  OF    THE    CLERGY.  33 

digression ;  and,  therefore,  it  may  suffice,  for  the  pre- 
sent, to  say  that  what  we  know  of  the  incapacity  or 
vices  of  the  clergy  or  the  monks  during  the  period  in 
question,  we  derive  principally  from  their  own  confes- 
sion ;  or,  at  least,  from  their  own  statements. 

The  second  set  of  writers  to  whom  I  have  alluded, 
are  those  who  either  under  pretence,  or  with  the  real 
object,  of  producing  reformation,  have  been  vigilant  to 
spy  out,  and  forward  to  publish,  the  vices  of  churchmen. 
If  there  were  but  few  of  the  former  class  of  writers 
during  the  period  more  immediately  under  our  consi- 
deration, there  were  some  (I  hope  to  be  able  to  shew 
ground  for  believing  that  there  were  many)  virtuous, 
pious,  and  comparatively  enlightened  persons5  who 
belonged  to  this  class ;  and  who,  when  their  lot  was 
cast  among  ecclesiastics  who  disgraced  their  profession 
by  ignorance  and  vice,  did  seriously  desire  (and  were 
joined,  or  imitated,  by  others  who  pretended  to  desire) 
a  reformation  of  such  evils.  But  I  need  not  say  that 
the  zeal  of  reformers,  whether  real  or  pretended,  has 
often  exaggerated  the  evils  which  it  desired  to  redress ; 
sometimes  by  describing  them  as  greater,  and  oftener 
by  representing  them  as  more  general,  than  they  really 
were. 

From  both  these  sets  of  writers  very  strong  state- 
ments may  be  extracted ;  and  the  testimony  which 
they  apparently  give  will  seem,  to  the  young  student  of 
ecclesiastical  history,  to  be  confirmed  by  the  proceed- 
ings of  Councils,  and  the  tenor  of  their  canons,  as  well 
as  by  a  good  deal  of  what  he  will  find  in  the  works  of 
secular  historians,  even  supposing  that  he  does  go  to 


5  I  use  this  qualification  in  deference  to  the  popular  view  of  the  subject ; 
for  I  cannot  tell  why,  in  things  pertaining  to  the  kingdom  of  God,  and  on 
which  man  can  be  enlightened  only  by  the  word  and  Spirit  of  God,  they 
might  not  be  as  truly,  and  even  as  fully,  enlightened  as  any  of  mankind 
before  or  after  their  time. 


D 


34  MORALS    AND    LEARNING  [NO.  III. 

original  sources.  He  must,  however,  remember  that 
sin,  in  some  shape  or  other,  is  the  great  staple  of  his- 
tory, and  the  sole  object  of  law ;  and  he  must  expect, 
from  both  the  historian  and  the  legislator,  to  hear 
more  of  one  turbulent  prelate,  or  one  set  of  factious  or 
licentious  monks,  than  of  a  hundred  societies,  or  a 
thousand  scattered  clergy,  living  in  the  quiet  decency 
suited  to  their  profession.  Yet  even  of  such  societies, 
passing  through  the  year,  and  the  century,  in  orderly 
obscurity,  annals  are  not  wanting — "  but  they  are  gene- 
rally written  in  very  shocking  Latin" — very  true. 

However,  to  illustrate  what  I  have  said,  let  me  recur 
to  the  canons  of  iElfric,  of  which  I  have  already  spoken. 
One  might  find  words  in  his  address  to  Wulfin,  from 
which  it  would  seem  as  if  he  meant  to  testify,  that  the 
wickedness  of  the  clergy  was  such,  as  that  they  had 
completely  destroyed  the  church.  "  You  ought,"  he 
says,  "  frequently  to  talk  to  your  clergy,  and  to  rebuke 
their  negligence ;  for,  by  their  perverseness,  the  laws, 
religion,  and  learning  of  the  church  are  almost  de- 
stroyed. Therefore  deliver  your  soul ;  and  tell  them 
what  are  the  duties  of  priests  and  ministers  of  Christ, 
lest  you  likewise  perish,  being  counted  as  a  dumb  dog. 
We  have  written  this  epistle  which  follows  in  English, 
as  if  spoken  by  you,  and  you  had  addressed  it  to  the 
clergy  of  your  diocese,  beginning  thus  : — *  I  myself  tell 
you  priests,  that  I  will  not  put  up  with  your  negligence 
in  your  ministry ;  but,  in  truth,  I  will  tell  you  what  is 
the  law  concerning  your  order,' "  &c.  f  Fuller  illustra- 
tion I  hope  to  give  hereafter6;   in  the  mean  time  I 


G  To  pursue  this  point  here  would  lead  us  into  what  is,  perhaps,  a  much 
wider  field  than  some  readers  may  suppose — the  subject  of  church  reform 
in  the  middle  ages.  To  me  it  has  appeared  extremely  interesting,  and  I 
hope  to  give  some  extracts,  which  may  lead  us  to  believe  that,  bad  as 
things  were,  there  were  always  some  who  were  trying  to  mend  them. 
Conceive  a  bishop  of  the  tenth  century  writing  to  two  archbishops  in  such 


NO.  III.]  OF    THE    CLERGY.  35 

wish  to  get  through  Robertson's  statement,     He  goes 
on  to  say, — 

44  To  the  obvious  causes  of  such  universal  ignorance,  arising 
from  the  state  of  government  and  manners,  from  the  seventh 
to  the  eleventh  century,  we  may  add  the  scarcity  of  books,  and 
the  difficulty  of  rendering  them  more  common  during  that 
period.  The  Romans  wrote  their  books  either  on  parchment  or 


terms  as  these : — u  Relicto  penitus  eo  qui  nos  proposuit  mundo,  relicto 
orani  praeter  nomen  officio,  ipsi  ita  specialius  deservimus  ceteris  mundo, 
ut  dum  ceteri  Deo  quae  Dei,  mundo  quae  mundi  sunt  contendunt  reddere, 
nos  e  contra  mundo  quae  Dei,  id  est  omnigenum  amorem  et  cultum;  Deo- 
que  quae  debuerant  mundo  reddi,  reddamus,  id  est  omnigenum  despectum 
et  contemtum,  et  ut  ipsi  alligemur  arctius,  ne  quando  scilicet,  dum  ab  eo 
non  recognoscimur,  despiciamur,  relicto  ritu,  cultu,  habitu  quoque  nostro, 
ipsius  mundi  consuetudine  atque  studiis,  amictibus  etiam  in  tantum  uti- 
mur,  ut  solo,  ut  ita  eloquar,  barbirasio  et  corona,  et  quod  non  a  nobis  ut 
ab  eis  ducuntur  uxores,  qualescumque  etiam,  quas  Domino  ore  tantum- 
modo,  et  hoc  rarissime,  reddere  videmur,  laudes,  in  nullo  alio  saecularibus 
videamur  dissimiles ;  ita  ut  de  nobis,  proh  nefas !  dictum  prophetiae  possit 
credi  quod  continent  tempora  praesentis  aevi :  *  Et  erit  sicut  populus,  sic 
sacerdos,' "  &c.  And  he  presently  afterwards  relates  an  anecdote  which 
I  must  translate,  though  for  the  other  matter  I  wished  the  reader  to  have 
the  bishop's  own  words.  A  certain  priest,  who  saw  his  bishop  playing  at 
dice,  shook  his  head  in  a  scornful  manner.  The  prelate  perceiving  it,  was 
very  angry,  (justly  enough,  says  the  bishop  who  relates  it,  if  his  anger 
had  been  directed  against  the  right  person,)  and  told  the  priest,  that  if  he 
did  not  shew  him  that  what  he  was  doing  was  forbidden  by  the  canon  law, 
he  would  immediately  send  him  to  gaol.  The  priest,  with  an  aspect  of 
horror,  fell  at  his  feet,  and  said,  "  Pardon  me,  my  lord,  I  am  so  over- 
whelmed with  fear  that  I  could  not  repeat  even  the  first  verse  of  the  first 
psalm,"  (the  very  alphabet  of  a  priest  in  those  days,)  "  nor  any  one  decree 
from  the  canons  ;  but  I  beseech  you,  most  pious  prelate,  that  you  would 
recal  to  my  mind  what  in  my  terror  I  have  quite  lost."  On  this  the 
bishop,  and  the  rest  of  the  company,  began  to  laugh  and  jest;  but,  the 
priest  being  still  urgent,  the  bishop  yielded  to  his  entreaties,  and  repeated 
a  couple  of  verses  :— "  Blessed  is  the  man  that  walketh  not  in  the  counsel 
of  the  ungodly,  nor  standeth  in  the  way  of  sinners,  nor  sitteth  in  the  seat 
of  the  scornful ;  but  his  delight  is  in  the  law  of  the  Lord ;  and  in  his  law 
doth  he  meditate  day  and  night." — "  Very  right,  most  holy  father,"  cried 
the  priest,  "  and  then  the  rest  of  your  time  you  may  play  at  dice." 

As  to  the  zealous  bishop,  who  relates  this  story,  are  we  to  take  his 
words  respecting  the  state  of  the  church  as  a  plain  statement  of  facts,  and 
set  them  down  as  cold-blooded  history  ?  or  do  the  very  act  and  circum- 
stances of  his  writing  them  constrain  us  to  receive  them  with  some  quali- 
fication ? 

D  2 


36  MISREPRESENTATIONS  [NO.  III. 

on  paper  made  of  the  Egyptian  papyrus ;  the  latter,  being  the 
cheapest,  was  of  course  the  most  commonly  used.  But  after 
the  Saracens  conquered  Egypt,  in  the  seventh  century,  the 
communication  between  that  country  and  the  people  settled  in 
Italy,  or  in  other  parts  of  Europe,  was  almost  entirely  broke 
off,  and  the  papyrus  was  no  longer  in  use  among  them. 
They  were  obliged,  on  that  account,  to  write  all  their  books 
upon  parchment,  and  as  the  price  of  that  was  high,  books 
became  extremely  rare,  and  of  great  value.  We  may  judge 
of  the  scarcity  of  the  materials  for  writing  them  from  one 
circumstance.  There  still  remain  several  manuscripts  of  the 
eighth,  ninth,  and  following  centuries,  wrote  on  parchment, 
from  which  some  former  writing  had  been  erased,  in  order  to 
substitute  a  new  composition  in  its  place.  In  this  manner, 
it  is  probable,  that  several  works  of  the  ancients  perished. 
A  book  of  Livy,  or  of  Tacitus,  might  be  erased  to  make  room 
for  the  legendary  tale  of  a  saint,  or  the  superstitious  prayers 
of  a  missal.  Murat.  Anti.  Ital.  v.  hi.,  p.  833.  P.  de  Montfau- 
con  affirms,  that  the  greater  part  of  the  manuscripts  on 
parchment  which  he  had  seen,  those  of  an  ancient  date 
excepted,  are  written  on  parchment  from  which  some  former 
treatise  had  been  erased.  Mem.  de  TAcad.  des  inscript.,  torn, 
ix.,  p.  325.  As  the  want  of  materials  for  writing  is  one  rea- 
son why  so  many  of  the  works  of  the  ancients  have  perished, 
it  accounts  likewise  for  the  small  number  of  manuscripts,  of 
any  kind,  previous  to  the  eleventh  century,  when  they  be^an 
to  multiply,  from  a  cause  which  shall  be  mentioned.  Hist. 
Liter,  de  France,  torn,  vi.,  p.  6.11 

Much  of  the  foregoing,  which  relates  to  the  mate- 
rials, value,  and  scarcity  of  books  during  the  period  in 
question,  would  lead  us  into  multifarious  discussion ; 
yet  it  is  so  interwoven  with  the  specific  statements 
with  which  it  is  my  object  at  present  to  deal,  that  I 
know  not  how  to  convince  the  reader  that  I  am  acting 
fairly,  or  even  to  make  the  matter  intelligible  to  him, 
except  by  quoting  the  whole  passage.  I  do  not  know 
whether  there  ever  was  a  time  when  readers  looked 
out  the  passages  referred  to,  or  attended  to  the  writers 
request  that  they  would,  "  see,1'  "  compare,"  &e.  such- 


no.  in.]  in  Robertson's  charles  v.  37 

and-such  things,  which  for  brevity's  sake  he  would  not 
transcribe  :  but  if  readers  ever  did  this,  I  am  morally 
certain  that  they  have  long  since  ceased  to  do  it ;  and, 
therefore,  where  I  feel  it  necessary  that  the  reader 
should  know  what  has  been  said,  I  dare  not  content 
myself  with  referring  even  to  so  common  a  book  as 
Robertson's. 

As  to  the  specific  statements,  allow  me  to  say — but 
perhaps  the  reader  would  be  offended  at  my  saying  all 
that  I  might  be  inclined  to  say  on  the  subject — it 
brings  us  on  rather  tender  ground,  and  he  may  think 
that  I  am  as  bad  as  the  monks ;  and,  besides,  one  is 
really  ashamed  to  say,  in  the  nineteenth  century,  what 
they  might  have  been  allowed  to  say  a  thousand  years 
ago.  Let  me  rather  suppose  some  monk,  of  the  period 
to  which  Robertson  refers,  to  rise  in  defence  of  his 
order.  He  may  say  what  he  pleases  ;  and  if  he  should 
talk  nonsense,  the  enlightened  reader  will  smile  and 
forgive  him.  Let  him  be  as  absurd  and  wretched  a 
creature  as  modern  taste  can  conceive — such  as,  from 
his  own  description,  we  may  suppose  the  historian  Dit- 
mar  to  have  been  \  or  the  Prior  of  Grandmont,  whose 

"  Frequens  genuflexio  nasum  oblicavit, 
Genibus  et  manibus  callura  concreavit." 

Let  us  suppose  such  a  person  brought  to  light,  and 
blinking  in  our  sunshine,  and  at  length  made  to  under- 
stand the  nature  of  the  charge  preferred  against  him 
and  his  brethren.  He  might,  perhaps,  answer — "  Truly, 
Dr.  Robertson,  you  are  rather  hard  upon  us.  To  be 
sure,  some  part  of  what  you  say  cannot  be  denied — a 


7  "  Agnosce,  lector,  proceritatem,  et  videbis  in  me  parvum  homuncio- 
nem,  maxilla  deformem  leva,  et  latere  eodem,  quia  hinc  olim  erupit  semper 
turgescens  fistula.  Nasus  in  pueritia  fractus  ridiculum  me  facit,  idque 
totum  nil  questus  essem,  si  interius  aliquid  splendiscerem." — Lib.  IV.  ap. 
Lcibn.  Scr.  Bruns.  Tom.  I.  p.  361. 


38  MISREPRESENTATIONS  [NO.  III. 

book  of  Tacitus  or  Livy  may  have  been  erased  to  make 
room  for  a  legend,  or  a  missal — it  is,  as  you  say,  a  per- 
adventure ;  but  it  may  have  been  so ;  and,  if  it  was, 
people  could  do  better  without  books  of  Tacitus  and 
Livy  than  without  prayer-books.  Nay,  you  who  go  on 
to  tell  us  that  in  those  days  '  even  monasteries  of  con- 
siderable note  had  only  one  missal,5 — you  who  pro- 
fess yourself  to  be  a  Christian  minister,  (which  many 
of  us  were  not,)  ought  to  applaud  us  for  spoiling  the 
Egyptians,  and  serving  ourselves  of  the  heathen.  We 
may  have  destroyed  a  book  of  Tacitus  or  Livy,  to 
preserve  a  legend,  or  make  a  missal ;  or  it  may  have 
been  the  other  way.  We  may  have  saved  the  youth  of 
Christendom  from  some  heathen  obscenity,  and  pre- 
served a  valuable  treatise  of  Jerome,  Ambrose,  or 
Augustine — or,  if  these  names  only  provoke  a  sneer, 
we  may  have  thus  preserved  some  of  those  Annals  to 
which  you  modern  historians  are  indebted  (not  imme- 
diately, I  fear,  in  most  cases)  for  whatever  is  true  in 
your  works  ;  and  which,  in  grateful  return,  some  of  you 
love  to  describe  as  dull,  stupid,  barbarous,  musty,  old 
records,  with  which  you  have  condescended  to  defile 
yourselves  for  the  public  good.  But  then,  as  to  our 
substituting  the  legendary  tales  of  the  saints — under 
favour,  doctor,  I  cannot  help  thinking,  from  the  way  in 
which  you  write,  that  you  have  not  quite  a  correct  idea 
of  the  time  when  what  are  commonly  known  to  Pro- 
testants as  the  legends  of  the  Romish  church  were 
principally  written.  We,  who  lived  between  the 
seventh  and  eleventh  centuries,  had  comparatively 
little  to  do  with  the  matter.  We  plead  guilty  to  great 
ignorance,  bad  Latin,  and  blunders ;  to  much  nonsense, 
some  lies,  and  a  good  deal  that  was,  in  fact,  legendary ; 
— but  as  to  what  your  readers  would  understand  by 
legendary  tales  of  saints,  you  must  look  to  a  later 
period, — you  must  go   forward    to  the  times  when  (as 


no.  in.]  in  Robertson's  charles  v.  39 

that  so  good  inquisitor  and  bishop,  Bernard  Guido, 
says)  '  Frater  Jacobus  de  Voragine  Lonibardus,  post- 
modum  Archiepiscopus  Januensis,  suam  conflavit  com- 
pilationem  more  suo  in  vitis  sanctorum  novis,  sicut  et  de 
aliis  Sanctis  fecit,  prout  ibidem  patet8.'  You  must 
talk  to  writers  of  the  thirteenth  century ;  you  may  go 
on,  and  talk  to  the  Council  of  Trent,  and  the  Congre- 
gation of  the  Index,  and  ask  them  why  they  never 
expurgated  the  Golden  Legend,  why  they  never  even 
weeded  out  its  barbarous  blunders,  to  say  nothing  of 
its  lies.  Yes,  to  the  horrible  disgrace  of  our  church, 
you  may  ask  why  they  never  stretched  out  the  hand 
of  correction,  or  restriction — never  even  directed  the 
slightest  breath  of  censure — towards  it,  and  the  thou- 
sand and  one  lying  books  that  began  to  be  made,  and 
circulated,  and  devoured,  as  soon  as  what  you  are 
pleased  to  call  the  revival  of  letters  had  set  men  to 
read  the  monstrous  figments,  the  foul  and  scandalous 
obscenities,  of  the  pagan  poets.  Then  you  may  go  on 
with  Ribadaneira,  and  a  host  of  moderns, — but  do  not 
accuse  us, — look  for  yourself,  and  see  what  we  did 
write;  and  I  am  persuaded  that,  though  you  may 
sometimes  see  a  legendary  tale  of  a  saint,  and  some- 
times a  superstitious  prayer  of  a  missal,  you  will  find 
comparatively  little  for  which  it  would  have  been  so 
very  sinful  to  scrape  a  parchment,  which  might,  or 
might  not,  contain  a  book  of  Tacitus  or  Livy. 

"  Moreover,  in  case  we  should  not  come  to  any  thing 
like  an  agreement  as  to  relative  value,  let  me  add, 
that  as  we  are  not  the  people  principally  concerned  in 
concocting  the  legends,  so  we  are  not  the  people  who 
were  most  addicted  to  scraping  parchments.  I  do  not 
mean  to  deny  that  what  you  say  is  true  as  to  the  letter, 
and  that  *  there  still  remain  several  manuscripts  of  the 


*  Libellus  de  Magist.  Ord.  Praedic.  M.  Sf  D.  VI.,  405. 


40  MISREPRESENTATIONS  [NO.  III. 

eighth,  ninth,  and  following  centuries,'  which  have  been 
so  treated.  There  are,  I  confess,  several  such  speci- 
mens ;  but  you  know,  though  you  slur  over  (not  to  say 
misrepresent)  his  words,  by  saying  'of  ancient  date,' 
that  Montfaucon  expressly  limits  his  statement  to 
manuscripts  written  since  the  twelfth  century9;  and 
therefore  I  put  it  to  your  own  conscience,  whether  it  is 
not  probable  that  we  were  more  sinned  against  than 
sinning,  in  this  matter — whether  those  who  wanted 
writing  materials  were  likely  to  prefer  parchment  which 
was  older  than  our  time,  to  that  which  we  had  used — 
and  whether  our  works  were  not  more  exposed  to 
erasure  than  those  of  earlier  writers  ?  I  have  said  that 
you  know  this — for  I  cannot  affect  to  suppose  that  you 
did  not  see  the  words  which  you  have  omitted  or 
altered — but  I  doubt  whether  you  do  know,  that  a 
great  part  of  the  scraping  of  manuscripts  was  not 
owing  to  our  writing  legends  or  missals,  but  was 
perpetrated  in  order  to  carry  on  the  ungodly  quarrels,  or 
worldly  business  of  secular  men ;  so  that  as  late  as  the 
fourteenth  and  fifteenth  centuries  notaries  were  re- 
stricted from  practising,  until  they  had  taken  an  oath 
to  use  none  but  newr  parchment." 


9  Not  having  it  in  my  power  to  verify  the  citation  of  Montfaucon,  I 
applied  to  a  learned  friend  who  has  access  to  a  public  library.  He  replied, 
'*  This  reference  is  wrong — there  is  nothing,  in  the  volume  referred  to,  by 
Montfaucon,  nor  any  mention  of  him  in  the  page  given  above.  I  there- 
fore looked  to  the  index,  where,  under  Montfaucon's  name,  I  got  a 
reference  to  a  paper  of  his,  vol.  vi.  p.  592,  entitled,  '  Dissertation  sur  la 
plante  appellee  Papyrus,  sur  le  papier  d'Egypte,  sur  le  papier  de  coton,  et 
sur  celuy  dont  on  se  sert  aujourd'huy.'  In  p.  606,  is  the  following  pas- 
sage, which,  I  presume,  gave  rise  to  Robertson's  statement.  After  having 
mentioned  the  fact,  that  '  depuis  le  xiie  Siecle,'  ancient  writings  were 
erased  to  make  way  for  books  of  the  church — and  thus  that  Polybius, 
Dio,  Diodorus,  &c.  were  converted  into  Triodions,  Pentecostaries,  Homi- 
lies, &c.  he  says,  '  Apres  une  exacte  recherche,  je  puis  assurer  que  des 
livres  ecrits  sur  du  parchemin  depuis  le  xii  Siecle,  j'en  ay  plus  trouve  dont 
on  avoit  racle  l'ancienne  ccriture,  que  d'autres.'  " 


no.  iv.]  in  Robertson's  charles  v.  41 

I  do  not  mean  to  make  myself  responsible  for  all 
that  a  monk  under  such  circumstances  might  say ;  but 
yet  I  cannot  suppress  my  opinion,  that  if  any  of  that 
fraternity  had  so  addressed  Robertson,  his  most  pru- 
dent and  popular  course  would  have  been  to  turn  short 
round  on  the  opposite  tack,  and  to  reply — "  Ah  !  you 
sensual,  ignorant,  lazy  monks ;  you  could  not  read  or 
write — potius  dediti  gulae  quam  glossse,"  &c. 


No.  IV. 


Bibliothekar.  Haben  sie  des  Muratorius  seine  Werke  nicht  gelesen  ? 
P.  Priszilian.  In  meinem  Leben  nicht ;  ich  kenne  sie  gar  nicht. — 

Die  Heiligen. 

I  have  alreadv  observed  that  there  is  often  great  diffi- 

ml  O 

culty  in  meeting  broad  general  assertions,  even  when 
one  is  sure  that  they  are  untrue  ;  and  I  may  add  that 
it  is  as  difficult — perhaps  it  is  impossible — to  prevent, 
or  remove,  the  erroneous  impressions  likely  to  arise 
from  statements  which  though  really  false  are  verbally 
true.  My  meaning  will  be  illustrated  by  considering 
the  statement  with  which  Robertson  follows  those 
already  discussed. 

"  Many  circumstances  prove  the  scarcity  of  books  during 
these  ages.  Private  persons  seldom  possessed  any  books 
whatever.  Even  monasteries  of  considerable  note  had  only 
one  missal.    Murat.  Antiq.  v.  ix.  p.  789." 

Certainly  there  needs  no  proof  that  books  were 
scarce  during  the  middle  ages.  No  doubt  the  scarcity, 
as  compared  with  the  plenty,  and  even  surfeit,  of  the 
present  day,  was  great  indeed.  Yet,  great  as  it  was,  I 
cannot  help  suspecting  that  it  has  been  exaggerated  ; 
and  I  think  we  shall  find  ground  to  doubt  the  truth  of 


42  Robertson's  charles  v.  [no.  iv. 

the  assertion  that  "  private  persons  seldom  possessed 
any  books  whatever" — or  if,  by  assigning  a  lax,  and 
comparative,  meaning  to  "  seldom,"  the  statement 
shonld  be  turned  into  a  notorious  truth  not  worth 
uttering,  we  shall  see  reason  for  believing  that  the 
impression  which  it  was  calculated  to  convey,  and  pro- 
bably has  conveyed  to  most  readers,  is  erroneous. 

To  come,  however,  to  the  specific  statement,  backed 
by  the  authority  of  Muratori — for  my  present  business 
is  chiefly  with  it — "even  monasteries  of  considerable 
note  had  only  one  missal."  In  the  first  place,  will  any- 
body tell  me  what  they  wanted  with  more  ?  "  Monas- 
teries of  considerable  note"  had  but  one  church,  or 
chapel,  and  not  more  inmates  than  that  one  building 
would  contain ;  and  might  not  mass  be  said  every  hour 
of  every  day  all  the  year  round,  out  of  one  missal,  as 
well  as  if  there  had  been  fifty  ?  "  Yes,"  it  may  be  said, 
"but  one  is  accustomed  to  look  on  monasteries  as 
having  been,  in  some  small  and  comparative  degree, 
places  where  there  was  some  learning,  and  some  appear- 
ance at  least  of  religion ;  and  one  is  surprised  to  hear 
of  their  being  so  ill  provided  with  books."  I  know  it — 
I  know  that  no  man  who  has  any  tolerable  acquaint- 
ance with  history,  sacred  or  secular,  can  help  having 
some  idea — perhaps  a  very  vague  and  discouraged  idea 
— that,  in  those  ages,  the  monastery  was  the  refuge  of 
want  and  weakness,  the  nursery  of  art,  the  depository 
of  learning,  and  the  sanctuary  of  religion.  This,  I  say, 
every  man  who  is  moderately  acquainted  with  history 
must  know ;  even  though  he  should  not  be  aware  of  the 
less  obvious,  but  not  less  certain  influence  of  monastic 
institutions  on  agriculture,  commerce,  and  those  com- 
forts and  pleasures  of  social  life  from  which  their 
inmates  were  themselves  excluded.  Something  like 
this,  I  repeat,  every  tolerably  educated  man  does  feel ; 
but  a  strange  sort  of   vague   contradiction   is   thrown 

1 


NO.  IV.]  THE    ABBOT    BONUS.  43 

over  it  by  such  foolish  statements  as  that  which  I  have 
quoted  from  Robertson.  Half  the  readers  of  his  His- 
tory of  Charles  V.  do  not  know  what  a  Missal  is,  or 
why  the  monks  wanted  any,  or  what  they  did  with  that 
single  one  which  they  are  admitted  to  have  had  ;  but 
yet,  from  the  way  in  which  it  is  stated,  they  take  it  for 
granted  that  it  was  a  horrible  delinquency  in  "  monas- 
teries of  considerable  note,"  to  have  only  one  missal — 
and  if  they  were  so  wretchedly  off,  in  what  state  were 
the  thousands  of  monasteries  which  were  of  inconsider- 
able note,  or  of  no  note  at  all  ? 

But,  to  say  the  truth,  all  this,  though  not  I  hope 
untrue  or  entirely  useless,  is  not  to  our  present  pur- 
pose ;  as  the  reader  will  find  if  he  refers  to  Muratori, 
or  favours  me  with  his  attention  to  a  brief  statement 
of  the  grounds  on  which  Robertson  ventured  to  make 
his  assertion. 

The  Abbot  Bonus  appears  to  have  been  born  about 
the  year  990 ;  and,  though  the  place  of  his  birth  is  not 
certainly  known,  it  seems  probable  that  he  was  a  native 
of  Pisa.  At  all  events  we  are  informed  that  he  became 
a  monk  at  Nonantula,  and  that  he,  and  his  uncle  Peter, 
came  from  thence  in  the  year  1018,  to  Pisa,  where  they 
laid  the  foundation  of  the  monasterv  of  St.  Michael, 
which  certainly  was  afterwards  "  of  considerable  note." 
Bonus  presided  over  it  for  thirty  years  ;  after  which 
period  some  dispute  or  dissension  (it  does  not  clearly 
appear  of  what  nature,  but  it  seems  not  to  have  been 
any  quarrel  with  his  monks)  caused  him  to  quit  his 
monastery,  and  set  off  for  Corsica,  where  some  property 
had  been  bequeathed  to  him,  and  where  he  proposed  to 
live  as  a  private  person.  Stopping,  however,  on  his 
voyage  at  the  island  of  Gorgona,  where  there  was  a 
monastery,  he  found  the  monks  greatly  distressed  by 
the  recent  loss  of  their  Abbot.  They  unanimously  called 
on  Bonus  to  take  his  place.    He  resisted  for  some  time ; 


44  THE    ABBOT    BONUS.  [NO.  IV. 

but  overcome  by  their  importunity,  lie  consented  ;  re- 
questing only  leave  to  return  to  Pisa,  in  order  to  bid 
farewell  to  his  old  associates,  and  to  exhort  them  with 
respect  to  the  choice  of  a  successor.  Having  obtained 
permission,  and  executed  his  purpose,  he  returned  to 
Gorgona,  and  undertook  the  office  of  abbot  there,  which 
he  held  until  his  death,  in  the  year  1070.  On  quitting 
the  monastery  at  Pisa,  however,  he  wrote  a  statement 
of  what  he  had  done  in  the  matter  of  founding  and 
maintaining  it ;  and  it  is  to  this  "  Breve  Recordationis," 
printed  by  Muratori,  in  the  fourth  volume  (not  the 
ninth,  for  there  are  but  six)  of  his  Antiquitates  Italicce 
medii  cevi  that  Robertson  refers '. 

I  by  no  means  suppose  that  the  Abbot  did,  or  could 
foresee  what  inferences  would  be  drawn  from  a  fact 
which  he  relates ;  but  really,  if  he  had,  he  could  hardly 
have  told  his  story  in  terms  more  adapted  to  preclude 
the  possibility  of  such  perversion.  The  monastery  "  of 
considerable  note"  (that  is,  as  the  Abbot  says,  in  the 
pride  of  his  heart  many  years  afterwards,  "  que  nunc  est 
coenobium")  was  then  no  monastery  at  all,  but  a  chapel 
near  Pisa,  (capella,  que  tunc  temporis  detinebatur  a  pres- 
byteris,)  which  was  in  a  most  deplorable  and  destitute 
condition,  when  "  Senior  Stephanus,"  I  presume  the 
principal  authority  in  Pisa,  procured  this  poor  monk 
to  come  and  perform  divine  service.  Not  only  does 
Bonus  call  it  simply  a  chapel,  but  he  tells  us  that  when 
he  came  there  he  found  neither  monk  nor  abbot,  nor  any 
decent  dwelling  place,  and  in  fact  nothing  but  a  hut. 


1  It  was,  I  believe,  first  printed  by  Mabillon ;  then  by  Grandius,  (an 
abbot  of  St.  Michael's,  who,  after  seven  centuries,  erected  a  statue  in 
honour  of  his  predecessor,  Bonus);  by  Muratori,  to  whom  Robertson 
refers  ;  and,  fourthly,  by  Mitarelli  and  Costadoni,  in  their  "  Annales 
Camaldulenses."  This  latter  work  contains,  I  believe,  the  fullest  account 
of  the  abbot,  and  to  it  I  am  indebted  for  the  facts  and  extracts  which  I 
here  give.  [The  "  Breve  Recordationis"  at  full  length  will  be  found  at 
the  end  of  this  paper.] 


NO.  IV.]  THE    ABBOT    BONUS.  45 

{Neque  monachum,  neque  abbatem  ibidem  inveni ;  et  non 
casam  neque  mansionem  sed  tantummodo  unum  tugurium, 
ubi  cepi  habitare  cum  avunculo  meo.)  He  then  proceeds 
to  detail  the  destitute  state  of  the  place  as  to  service- 
books,  vestments,  bells,  and  all  the  requisites  for  the 
performance  of  divine  service ;  and,  having  given  a 
lamentable  picture,  he  breaks  out  with  honest  pride — 
may  I  not  hope  with  real  and  pious  gratitude  ? — "  Now 
hear,  and  understand,  how  that  place  is  improved  by 
the  help  of  Almighty  God,  and  by  mine,  and  by  that 
of  my  monks,  and  that  of  the  good  Christians  of  our 
city."  After  five  years  he  set  to  work  on  the  church, 
and  went  to  Rome,  where  he  bought  columns  for  it ; 
and  then  made  a  belfry,  which  he  furnished  with  two 
bells,  but  which,  fifteen  years  afterwards,  gave  place  to 
one  much  handsomer,  containing  seven  bells,  the  largest 
of  which  weighed  twelve  hundred  pounds.  The  vest- 
ments, by  the  time  when  the  Abbot  wrote,  had  not 
only  increased  in  number,  but  some  of  them  were  so 
costly  that,  as  he  tells  us,  the  bishop  of  the  diocese 
might  have  said  mass  in  them  on  Easter  Sunday,  "  cum 
honore" — the  single  tin  cup  had  been  exchanged  for 
four  chalices,  one  of  gold  and  three  of  silver — the  single 
hut  had  expanded  into  a  monastery,  with  all  suitable 
offices  and  appendages,  and  a  considerable  estate  in 
land  ;  and,  what  is  more  to  our  purpose,  instead  of  the 
"  single  missal,"  the  monks  of  the  monastery  of  St. 
Michael  rejoiced  in  a  library  consisting  of  thirty-four 
volumes.  But  this  requires  more  specific  notice,  for  it 
is  the  ground  of  Robertson's  statement. 

In  describing  the  destitute  state  of  the  chapel  as  he 
originally  found  it,  the  abbot  tells  us,  "  in  ipsa  ecclesia 
non  inveni  aliud  nisi  unum  missale  ;"  and  afterwards 
he  repeats,  "quando  veni  in  ipsum  locum  non  legebatur 
in  ipsa  ecclesia,  per  totum  fere  annum,  nisi  epistole  et 
evangel ia  quia  non  habebatur  nisi  unum  missale." 


46 


THE  ABBOT  BONUS. 


[NO.  IV. 


Now,  the  first  thing  to  observe  is,  that  there  is  no 
pretence  for  calling  the  place  a  "  Monastery"  at  all  at 
the  time  when  it  had  only  one  missal. 

Secondly,  that  in  speaking  thus  of  "  one  missal," 
Robertson  obviously  misunderstands  the  drift  of  the 
Abbot's  complaint,  which  was  not  that  the  chapel  had 
only  one  missal,  but  that  it  had  no  other  service-book 
but  a  missal ;  and  that,  therefore,  only  that  service  could 
be  performed  which  was  contained  in  the  missal.  Unus, 
in  writers  of  that  period,  whether  Italian,  French,  or 
German,  no  more  implies  definite  singularity  than  the 
corresponding  word  in  either  of  those  languages  now 
does.  We  alone,  I  believe,  have  discarded  it,  or  turned 
it  into  "  a,"  and  are  apt  to  smile  when  our  foreign 
friends  very  naturally  say,  "  Here  is  one  book,"  &c. 

Thirdly,  be  it  observed,  that  as  soon  as  this  place 
did  become  a  monastery  it  began  to  have  books.  And 
this  seems  to  me  the  more  creditable,  because,  during  a 
great  part  of  the  time,  the  monks  were  in  want  of  the 
comforts,  and  even  perhaps  of  the  necessaries,  of  life ; 
and  what  they  got  was  principally  obtained  by  begging. 
The  great  and  ruling  passion  of  the  poor  abbot  seems 
to  have  been  to  form  a  monastery,  and  provide  it  with 
every  thing  needful ;  and,  as  to  himself,  he  tells  us, 
that  for  the  first  two  years  he  had  only  a  single  shirt, 
and  used  to  lie  in  bed  while  it  was  washed ;  and  that 
during  the  whole  thirty  years  he  was  never  possessed 
of  two  suits  of  clothes,  or  a  horse. 

As  to  the  books,  however,  I  must  give  the  list  in  his 
own  words,  grammar,  and  spelling : — 


Sermonum  liber  unus  quern 
ego  scripsi  solus  cum  Priore 
meo,  sicut  habetur  domui 
Sancte  Marie,  valde  opti- 
mus. 

Liber  Historiarum  unus,  ubi 


continetur  quidquid  in 
sancta  ecclesia  pertinet  ad 
lcgendum  per  totum  an- 
num. 
Textum  Evangeliorum  unum, 
valde  optime  scriptum,  cum 


NO.  IV.] 


THE    ABBOT    BONUS. 


47 


tabule     de    argento    valde 

bone. 
Passionarium    unum    novum, 

ubi    sunt   omnes   passiones 

ecclesiastice. 
Tractatum     super      Genesis, 

Sancti       Augustini      liber 

unus. 
Dialogorum,  liber  unus. 
Moralium  Job,  liber  unus. 
Summum         bonum,        liber 

unus. 
Diadema,  liber  unus. 
Paradisi,  liber  unus. 
Glossarum,  liber  unus. 
Canones,  liber  unus. 


Sancti  Benedicti  Regula,  liber 
unus. 

Pastorale,  liber  unus. 

Antiphonarii  VIII. 

Quinque  Diurnales. 

Tres  Nocturnales. 

Liber  Bibliothece 2  novum 
quod  est  comparatum  libras 
decern. 

Missales  quinque;  unum  mis- 
sale  valde  optimum,  quod 
semper  in  area  manebit, 
valentem  solidos  C. 

Super  Ezechiel,  liber  unus. 

Libri  Psalmorum  valde  op- 
timi  V. 


Now  I  am  aware  that  this  catalogue  may  provoke 
a  smile  from  those  who  are  conversant  with  modern 
collections  ;  but  I  am  not  ashamed  to  say  that  I  honour 
the  man  who,  under  such  circumstances,  had  the  spirit, 
and  found  the  means,  to  rebuild  or  enlarge  his  church, 
to  provide  all  things  necessary  for  the  honourable  per- 
formance of  divine  service,  to  annex  a  monastery,  and 
make  a  beginning  for  a  school  of  learning.  Let  me 
also  (partly  to  illustrate  what  I  have  said  in  the  pre- 
ceding number,  and  partly  to  prepare  the  way  for  what 
I  hope  more  fully  to  shew,)  request  the  reader  to 
observe  the  nature  of  the  books  in  this  little  list, — 
are  they  legendary  tales  of  saints?  mere  lies  and 
rubbish  ?     But  more  of  this,  I  hope,  hereafter. 


-  I  hope  to  give  some  catalogues  relating  to  the  period  with  which  we 
are  engaged,  which  will  offer  a  fitter  opportunity  for  saying  something 
of  these  and  other  books  ;  but  I  am  apprehensive  that  some  readers  may 
not  know  that  Bibliotheca  was,  in  those  days,  the  latin,  or  at  least  the 
name,  for  a  Bible.  Will  the  protestant  reader  give  the  abbot  and  his 
monks  any  credit  for  buying  it,  in  so  early  a  period  of  their  monastery, 
at  so  great  a  price  ?  and,  honestly,  (but  quite  between  ourselves,)  would 
he  have  expected  to  find  that  book  in  the  list  ? 


48  POPULAR    FALSEHOODS.  [NO.  IV. 

Having  said   so  much  of  the  Ahbot  Bonus,  I  am 
anxious  to  proceed  to  the  account   which   Robertson 
gives  of  the  Abbot  Lupus ;  but  I  wish  first  to  add  a 
few  words  respecting  the  canons  and  the  Abbot  Regino. 
In  the  second  number  I  stated  that  I  had  not  got  the 
original  work   of  the  Abbot,   but   since   that  number 
was  printed,  the  kindness  of  a  learned  friend  has  fur- 
nished me  with  the  book,  and  I  am  desirous  to  give 
the  passage  as  it  really  stands.     Besides,  I  am  induced 
to  recur  to  the  subject  because,  after  I  had  written  the 
preceding  part  of  this  paper,  I  happened  to  take  up  a 
"  History  of  Switzerland,  designed  for  young  persons," 
published  by  Harvey  and  Darton  in  1825  ;  which  tells 
the  rising  generation  that,  "  so  small  were  the  qualifi- 
cations thought  requisite  for  the  priesthood  before  the 
Reformation,  that  candidates  were   admitted  to  holy 
orders  if  they  could  only  read  and  tolerably  understand 
what  they  read,"  p.  237.      This,  I  presume,  is  taken 
from  Robertson's  statement,  that  "  one  of  the  questions 
appointed  to  be  put  to  candidates  for  orders,  was  this, 
'  Whether  they  could  read  the  Gospels  and  Epistles, 
and  explain  the  sense  of  them,  at  least,  literally.' '      It 
may  be  said,  (and  is  very  likely  to  be  said  by  anybody 
who  may  take  the  trouble  to  read  such  a  paper  as  this,) 
that  though  this  history  of  Switzerland  costs  six  shil- 
lings, it  is  only  a  child's  book,  that  they  never  heard 
of  it,  and  that  it  is  not  worth  notice.    To  this  I  answer, 
first,  that  children's  books   are   not  read   by  children 
only,  and  it  was  not  in  the  hands  of  a  child  that  I 
found  this  book ;  and  also  that,  in  my  opinion,  even 
children  should  not  be  set  to  read  lies  ;    secondly,  I 
confess  that  I  never  saw  the  book  until  this  very  day, 
but  I  do  hold  it  to  be  very  well  worth  notice  as  an 
instance  of  the  way  in  which   the   errors  of  popular 
writers  are  copied  and  disseminated,  and  dribbled  down 
in  minor  publications. 


NO.  IV.]  REGIXO    PRUMIENSIS.  49 

To  come,  however,  to  the  point,  the  inquiry  does  not 
at  all  respect  candidates  for  orders,  but  is  one  which  a 
bishop  is  directed  to  make  in  all  the  cures  in  his  dio- 
cese. I  may  have  to  recur  to  it,  but  for  the  present  it  is 
enough  to  say  that  it  is  entitled,  "  Inquisitio  de  his  qua? 
Episcopus  vel  ejus  ministri  in  suo  districtu  vel  territorio 
inquirere  debeant  per  vicos,  pagos,  atque  parroechias 
suae  dioceseos."  It  suggests  ninety-five  points  of  in- 
quiry ;  of  which  the  first  fifteen  relate  to  the  church, 
its  state  of  repair,  and  the  requisites  for  the  perform- 
ance of  divine  service.  No.  16 — 73,  concern  the  life 
and  conversation  of  the  priest.  No.  74 — 80,  respect 
points  on  which  the  priest  was  to  be  personally  ques- 
tioned ;  that  is,  as  to  his  parentage,  place  of  birth,  by 
what  bishop  he  was  ordained,  &c.  No.  81 — 95,  relate 
to  his  ministry  (Posthaec  de  ministerio  sibi  commisso 
inquirendum  est)  and  it  is  that  part  of  the  83rd  and 
85th  which  I  mark  by  italics  that  is  quoted  by  Bruc- 
ker 3,  but  I  must  extract  the  two  which  precede : — "  Si 
expositionem  symboli  atque  orationis  dominica?  juxta 
traditionem  orthodoxorum  patrum  penes  se  scriptam 
habeat,  et  earn  pleniter  intellegat,  et  inde  praedieando 
populum  sibi  commissum  sedulo  instruat.  82.  Si  ora- 
tiones  Missarum,  prsefationem  quoque  canonis,  et  eun- 
dem  canonem  bene  intellegat,  et  memoriter  ac  dis- 
tincte  proferre  valeat.  83.  Si  epistolam  et  evangelium 
bene  legere  possit  atque  saltern  ad  litteram  ejus  sensum 
manifestare.  84.  Si  psalmorum  verba  et  distinctiones 
regulariter  ex  corde  cum  canticis  consuetudinariis  pro- 
nuntiare  sciat.  85.  Si  sermonem  Athanasii  Episcopi  de 
fide  SanctcB  Trinitatis  cujus  initium  est  '  Quicunque 
vult  salvus  esse'  memoriter  teneat,  et  sensum  ittius  Intel- 

3  Of  this,  indeed,  Robertson  ought  to  have  been  aware,  for  Brucker 

introduces  it  as  a  formula  inquisitionis "secundum  quam  inquirere 

debebat  Episcopus  per  vicos,  &c. .  .  .  In  ea  enim  inter  alia  circa  presbyter os 
jubetur  inquiri,  '  Si'  "  &c. 

E 


50  LUPUS,    ABBOT  [\<>.   [V. 

legat,  et  verbis  communibus  enuntiare  sciat"  The  re- 
maining ten  questions  inquire  minutely  as  to  his  capa- 
bility to  perform  different  parts  of  the  service,  and 
the  94th  inquires,  "  Si  habeat  quadraginta  homilias 
Gregorii  et  eos  studiose  legat  atque  intellegat."  To 
say  nothing  of  the  erroneous  application  of  this  docu- 
ment to  the  examination  of  candidates  for  orders,  is  it 
not  most  extraordinary  that  it  should  have  been  brought 
forward  to  prove  that  the  clergy  could  not  read  ? 

Let  us,  however,  proceed  to  another  case.  Robertson 
goes  on  to  say, — 

"  Lupus,  Abbot  of  Ferrieres,  in  a  letter  to  the  Pope,  a.d. 
855,  beseeches  him  to  lend  him  a  copy  of  Cicero  de  Oratore, 
and  Quintilian's  Institutions.  '  For,1  says  he,  '  although  we 
have  parts  of  those  books,  there  is  no  complete  copy  of  them 
in  all  France.''     Murat.  Antiq.  v.  iii.  p.  S^S." 

The  plain  matter  of  fact  is,  that  two  monks,  named 
Adulphus  and  Acaricus,  having  resolved  on  a  pilgrim- 
age, the  Abbot  took  the  opportunity  of  sending  to 
Rome  what  was  in  fact  a  letter  of  introduction  as  it 
respected  them,  a  tender  of  his  own  humble  service  to 
the  Pope,  and  a  request  that  his  Holiness  would  lend 
him  some  books,  in  order  that  he  might  have  them 
copied  for  the  library  of  his  monastery.  From  the 
part  of  the  letter  which  relates  to  this  latter  point4, 

4  "  Caeterum  quia  parentes  thesaurizare  debent  filiis,  ut  doctor  gentium 
manifestat,  nosque  vobis  obsequentissimi  filii  esse  cupimus,  commentarios 
beati  Hieronyrai  in  Hieremiam,  post  sextum  librum  usque  in  finem  prae- 
dicti  prophetae  per  eosdern  fratres  nobis  mitti  deposcimus  in  codice  reve- 
rendae  veritatis,  vestrae  sanctitati,  si  id  obtinuerimus,  postquam  celeriter 
exscriptus  fuerit  sine  dubio  remittendos.  Nam  in  nostris  regionibus 
nusquam  ullus  post  sextum  commentarium  potuit  inveniri;  et  optamus 
in  vobis  recuperare  quicquid  parvitati  nostra?  deesse  sentimus.  Petimus 
etiam  Tullium  de  Oratore  et  xn  libros  Institutionum  Oratoriarum  Quinti- 
liani,  qui  uno,  nee  ingenti,  volumine  continentur :  quorum  utriusque 
auctorum  partes  habemus,  verum  plenitudinem  per  vos  desideramus 
obtinere.     Pari  intentione  Donati  Commentum  in  Terentium  flagitamus. 


NO.  IV.]  OF    FERRIERES.  51 

it  appears,  in  the  first  place,  that  Lupus  says  nothing 
about  "  all  France ;"  though  here,  I  confess,  that  Robert- 
son seems  to  have  been  misled  by  Muratori,  who,  after 
quoting  a  part  of  the  letter,  says,  "  Hsec  Lupus,  in 
cujus  verbis  non  solum  animadvertere  possumus  codi- 
cum  raritatem,  quum  supra  memoratos  universa  Gallia 
suppeditare  Lupo  non  posset,  iique  in  tarn  remota  re- 
(fione  quserendi  essent,  sed,  &c."  Lupus,  however,  only 
says,  of  certain  works  of  Cicero  and  Quint ilian,  "  we 
have  parts,  but  desire  through  you  to  obtain  the  whole ;" 
and  by  "  we,"  he  obviously  meant  his  own  monastery. 
Why  Robertson  did  not  mention  that  the  request  in- 
cluded Donatus  on  Terence,  I  do  not  know ;  but  what 
he  says  of  "  all  France" — though  obviously  a  very 
exaggerated  translation  of  nostris  regionibus,  consider- 
ing the  state  of  things  in  those  days — applies  not  to 
the  books  which  Robertson  mentions,  but  to  the 
Commentaries  of  Jerome  on  Jeremiah,  from  the  sixth 
book  to  the  end. 

Now  as  to  the  abbot's  not  having  a  complete  copy 
of  these  books  of  Cicero  and  Quintilian,  and  his  pre- 
ferring, as  he  had  so  good  an  opportunity,  to  borrow 
a  volume  of  no  great  bulk  which  he  knew  to  contain 
all  that  he  wanted  from  Rome,  to  sending  about  in  his 
own  country,  even  if  that  had  been  equally  easy,  or 
even  practicable  ;  and  indeed,  generally,  as  to  the  sort 
of  half-contraband  trade  which  was  carried  on  about 
the  classics  by  the  more  learned  ecclesiastics  of  those 
days — as  to  this  point,  which  is  not  uninteresting  when 
viewed  in  connexion  with  our  subject,  I  hope  to  speak 
more  fully  elsewhere ;  here  it  is  only  worth  while 
to  notice  that,  according  to  the  Abbot  Lupus,  the  com- 


Quec  auctorum  opera  si  vestra  liberalitas  nobis  largita  fuerit,  Deo  annuente, 
cum  memorato  Sancti  Hieronymi  codice,  fideliter  omnino  restituenda 
curabimus." — Ep.  103,  edit.  BuJuz.,  p.  155. 

!•:  2 


52  MONKS    OF    FERRIERES  [NO.   IV. 

militaries  of  Jerome  on  Jeremiah,  from  the  sixth  book 
to  the  end,  were  not  to  be  found  "  in  regionibus  nos- 
tris ;"  and  whether  we  interpret  this  to  mean  what  a 
modern  reader  would  understand  by  "  all  France,"  or 
restrict  it  to  more  reasonable  limits,  it  was  still  a  very 
broad  assertion.  Might  not  the  abbot  be  mistaken 
as  to  the  fact  ?  With  all  due  respect  for  the  Abbot 
of  Ferrieres,  and  on  some  grounds  he  deserved  not  a 
little,  are  we  bound  to  believe  that  he  knew  of  all 
the  books  "  in  regionibus  nostris,"  whatever  we  may 
suppose  that  phrase  to  mean?  Robertson  elsewhere 
says, — 

"  Many  proofs  occur  in  history  of  the  little  intercourse 
between  nations  during  the  middle  ages  ; "  and  it  is  rather 
a  singular  coincidence  that  he  states  in  proof  of  this,  "  Even 
so  late  as  the  beginning  of  the  twelfth  century,  the  monks  of 
Ferrieres,  in  the  diocese  of  Sens,  did  not  know  that  there 
was  such  a  city  as  Tournay  in  Flanders  ;  and  the  monks  of 
St.  Martin,  of  Tournay,  were  equally  unacquainted  with  the 
situation  of  Ferrieres.  A  transaction  in  which  they  were 
both  concerned  made  it  necessary  for  them  to  have  some 
intercourse.  The  mutual  interest  of  both  monasteries  prompted 
each  to  find  out  the  situation  of  the  other.  After  a  long 
search,  which  is  particularly  described,  the  discovery  was  made 
by  accident.  Herimannus  Abbas  de  Restauratione  St.  Martini 
Tornacensis  ap.  Dach.  Spicel.  vol.  xii.,  p.  400  V1 

I  am  induced  to  make  this  extract,  not  only  because 
it  states  what  is,  under  proper  and  reasonable  limita- 
tions, an  acknowledged  truth,  and  one  which  it  is  very 
necessary  to  bear  in  mind,  but  because  it  incidentally 
furnishes  another  instance  of  what  I  hope  it  is  true,  as 
well  as  charitable,  to  call  the  extreme  carelessness  with 
which  Robertson  quoted.  No  doubt  monks  situated 
at  places  as  far  distant,  and  as  little  connected,  as 
Ferrieres  and  Tournay  were  not  likely  to  know  much 


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


NO.  IV.]  AND    ST.   MARTIN    OF    TOURNAY.  53 

about  each  other;  but  the  view  which  Robertson  gives 
of  the  matter  is  quite  erroneous.     It  would  occupy  too 
much  space  to  shew  this  in  detail ;  but  I  must  just 
observe,  that  so  far  from  its  appearing-  that  the  monks 
of  Ferrieres  did  not  know  that  there  was  such  a  city 
as  Tournay  (which  is  indeed  a  supposition  altogether 
absurd,  especially  as  the  conversation  between  the  two 
monks  which   brought    about    an    understanding    and 
intercourse    between    the    monasteries    took    place    at 
Courtray,  and  he  of  Ferrieres  must  have  passed  com- 
paratively near  to  Tournay  to  get  there,  as  anybody 
may  see  by  the  map),  it  is  perfectly  clear,  from  Heri- 
man's  account,  that  they  did  know  of  the  existence 
of  Tournay ;  and  that  the  place  which  they  did  not 
know,  and  could  not  find,  was  a  certain  monastery  of 
St.  Martin,  at  Tournay.     They  had  in  their  possession 
old  documents  relating  to  it,  but  of  the  place  itself 
they  could  learn  nothing — and  why?   simply  because 
there  was  no  such  place  ;    it  had  ceased  to  exist  for 
some    centuries,    insomuch    that    some,    perhaps    most 
people,  disputed  whether  it  had   ever  existed   at   all. 
The  monks  of  Ferrieres  had  no  "interest"  (but  rather 
the  contrary)  in  finding  out  the  place,  but  they  had 
some  curiosity  on  the  subject ;  and  when  one  of  them 
accidentallv  met  with  a  monk,  who  told  him  that  he 
belonged  to  the  monastery  of  St.  Martin,  at  Tournay. 
he  was  surprised,  and  asked  him  where  in  the  world  it 
was,  for  they  had  never  been  able  to  find  it.     It  did 
not  appear  strange  to  the  monk  of  Tournay   (and   it 
will  not  seem  strange  to  any  reflecting  person)  that  the 
monks  of  Ferrieres  should  not  have  heard  how  Master 
Odo  and  his  clerks  had  revived  this  monastery  of  St. 
Martin — that  is,  had  settled  down  on  the  old  founda- 
tion, (like  Bonus  and  his  uncle  at  Pisa,)  and  dragged 
on  about  twenty  years  of  miserable  poverty  and  obscu- 
rity, in   founding  what   afterwards  became  most   emi- 


54  LITERARY  [NO.   IV. 

nently  a  tw  monastery  of  considerable  note,"  and  there- 
fore he  answered  that  it  was  quite  a  recent  foundation ; 
and  he  seems  not  to  have  known,  or  not  to  have  cared, 
about  its  claim  to  antiquity,  or  to  have  made  any  far- 
ther inquiries  when  the  monk  of  Ferrieres  told  him 
that  they  had  documents  relating  to  its  former  exist- 
ence. When,  however,  he  returned,  and  related  to  his 
brethren  what  he  had  heard,  they  lost  no  time  in  send- 
ing to  Courtray  for  farther  information ;  but  the  monk 
of  Ferrieres  was  gone,  and  certainly  they  did  not  know 
how  to  follow  him.  How  Heriman  hunted  for  the 
abbot,  and  found  him  at  the  council  of  Rheims,  and 
how  he  followed  him,  by  his  direction,  to  Ferrieres, 
and  then  found  that  he  had  changed  his  mind  as  to 
parting  with  the  documents,  or  giving  information  on 
the  subject,  from  fear,  as  it  seemed,  of  giving  offence 
to  one  or  more  of  his  neighbours,  by  setting  on  foot  a 
claim  to  property  which  was  supposed  to  belong  to 
St.  Martin's,  at  Tournay,  but  which  had  got  into  other 
hands ;  these,  and  many  curious  and  interesting  parti- 
culars, the  reader  may  find  in  Heriman's  own  account 
of  the  matter  to  which  Robertson  refers,  but  they 
would  be  out  of  place  here. 

I  quote  the  statement,  as  I  have  already  said,  not  to 
question  so  notorious  a  fact  as  that  intercourse  between 
distant  places  was  comparatively  small  at  that  period, 
and  attended  with  difficulties  unknown  in  these  days, 
but  to  shew  the  carelessness  with  which  Robertson 
quoted,  and  the  inconsistency  with  which  he  argued. 
If  the  monks  of  Ferrieres  in  the  twelfth  century  did 
not  know  that  there  was  such  a  city  as  Tournay,  are 
we  to  suppose  that  an  abbot  of  Ferrieres,  more  than 
two  centuries  and  a  half  before,  was  competent  to  say 
that  any  given  book  was  not  to  be  found  in  all  France? 
Might  not  a  copy  of  "  Jerome's  Commentaries  on 
Jeremiah "  lurk   somewhere   /'//   regionibus  nostris  un- 


NO.  IV.]  INTERCOURSE.  55 

known  to  Abbot  Lupus  ?  I  am  not  playing  the  scep- 
tic or  the  advocate.  I  feel  authorized  to  throw  out  this 
doubt,  because  I  hope  to  shew,  in  its  proper  place,  that 
there  actually  was,  during  the  life  of  Abbot  Lupus,  a 
copy  of  that  work  in  the  library  of  the  monastery  of 
St.  Riquier,  near  Abbeville,  which  might  contain  the 
portion  wanted,  and,  though  I  do  not  at  present  recol- 
lect another,  yet  I  should  be  much  surprised  to  find 
that  it  was  the  only  one  in  France. 

My  own  feelings  with  regard  to  this  letter  of  Lupus 
are  much  like  those  expressed  by  Fleury  respecting 
another  of  his  epistles.  After  having  said,  that  "  Dans 
un  autre  lettre  il  prie  un  ami  de  lui  apporter  les 
guerres  de  Catilina  et  le  Jugurtha  de  Salluste,  et  les 
Verrines  de  Ciceron,"  he  adds,  "  C'est  la  curiosite  de 
ces  savans  abbez,  et  le  travail  de  leur  moines,  qui  nous 
ont  conserve  les  livres  de  la  bonne  antiquite  ecclesias- 
tique  et  prophane 6."  Indeed,  when  Robertson  had 
Muratori  before  him,  and  adopted  that  part  of  his 
remarks  on  Lupus  which  I  have  already  extracted,  I 
wish  he  had  also  attended  to  what  Muratori  pro- 
ceeded to  say.  After  remarking  on  the  scarcity  of 
books,  in  the  terms  which  I  have  quoted,  and  on  the 
assurance  of  the  abbot  in  asking  that  such  treasures 
should  be  exposed  to  the  perils  of  such  a  journey, 
Muratori  says,  "  P  otitis  tamen  hinc  disccndum  nobis, 
quamplurimas  iis  ipsis  monachis  habendas  esse  gratias, 
quum  ferme  eorum  tantummodo  cura,  quidquid  libro- 
rum  veterum  superest,  nos  habeamus ;  et  majores  qui- 
dem  nostros  excusatione  dignos,  si  plura  in  Uteris  exco- 
lendis  non  prsestitere  ;  nos  vero  indignos,  qui  in  tanta 
librorum  copia  adhuc  desides  et  indocti  esse  pergi- 
mus  7." 

'  Torn,  x.  p.  609. 

7  I  hope  I  may  be  forgiven  if  there  is  any  vanity  mixed  with  the  feel- 
ings which  induce  me  to  retain  the  note  which  my  dear  and  partial  friend 


dG  literary  intercourse.  [no.  IV. 

the  Editor  annexed  to  this  paper  when  it  was  first  printed  in  the  British 
Magazine  for  June,  1835  : — ["The  following  passages  from  the  letters  of 
Gerbert,  afterwards  created  pope  in  a.d.  998,  by  the  name  of  Silvester  II., 
may  afford  some  confirmation  and  illustration  to  the  very  interesting  and 
valuable  paper  in  the  text.  He  was  abbot  of  Bobbio  during  part  of  the 
time  when  they  were  written.  In  his  1 30th  letter,  to  Rainald,  a  monk, 
written  long  before  his  elevation,  he  says,  '  I  entreat  you  to  render  me  one 
service,  which  you  can  do  without  danger  or  injury  to  yourself,  and  which 
will  bind  me  most  closely  to  you.  You  know  with  what  zeal  I  seek  for 
copies  of  books  from  all  quarters  ;  and  you  know  how  many  writers  there  are 
everywhere,  both  in  the  cities  and  the  country  parts  of  Italy.  I  entreat  you 
then,  that,  without  any  other  persons  knowing  it,  and  at  your  own  cost, 
transcripts  be  made  for  me  of  M.  Manilius  de  Astrologia,  Victorinus  de 
Rhetorica,  Demosthenes  Ophthalmicus.'  (This  is  explained  by  another 
letter.)  '  I  promise  you  most  faithfully  that  this  kind  service  shall  be 
kept  in  sacred  secresy,  and  that  whatever  you  lay  out  I  will  pay  you  to  the 
full,  according  to  your  accounts,  and  whenever  you  require  it.'  In  letter 
123  he  writes  to  Thietmar  of  Mayence,  for  a  part  of  one  of  the  works  of 
Boetius,  which  was  wanting  in  his  copy.  In  letter  9,  to  the  Abbot  Gisel- 
bert,  he  writes  respecting  deficiencies  at  the  end  of  his  MS.  of  the  oration 
of  Cicero,  *  Pro  Rege  Dejotaro,'  and  at  the  beginning  of  a  treatise  of 
Demosthenes  the  philosopher,  called  *  Ophthalmicus*  In  letter  8,  to  the 
Archbishop  of  Rheims,  he  requests  that  prelate  to  borrow  for  him,  from 
Azo,  an  Abbot,  a  copy  of  Caesar.  In  return,  he  promises  to  communicate 
whatever  literary  treasures  he  had,  especially  eight  volumes  of  Boetius  on 
astrology,  some  very  beautiful  geometrical  figures,  and  other  things  not 
less  to  be  admired.  In  letter  7,  he  requests  a  friend  (Airard)  to  attend  to 
other  business  of  the  same  kind, — the  correction,  as  it  would  seem,  of  a 
MS.  of  Pliny,  (Plinius  emendetur,)  and  the  transcribing  MSS.  (not  named) 
which  were  kept  at  two  different  places.  Again,  in  letter  44,  to  Egbert, 
the  Abbot  of  Tours,  he  mentions  his  own  diligent  study  of  philosophy, 
and  of  the  arts  of  eloquence,  and  states,  that  with  a  view  to  them,  he  had 
been  very  busy  in  collecting  a  library  ;  that  he  had  been  paying,  for  a  long 
time,  transcribers  at  Rome,  and  other  parts  of  Italy,  in  Germany  and  Bel- 
gium, and  buying  copies  of  authors  at  great  expense,  by  the  aid  of  friends 
in  his  own  country.  He  then  goes  on  to  beg  the  abbot  to  assist  him  in 
the  same  pursuit  in  his  country ;  adding,  that  he  gives  a  list,  at  the  end  of 
his  letter,  of  the  works  which  he  wishes  transcribed,  (unfortunately  lost, 
or  not  printed,)  and  will  supply  parchment,  and  other  necessary  costs,  at 
the  abbot's  demand.  In  many  other  letters  he  mentions  his  own  works 
on  rhetoric,  arithmetic,  and  his  completion  of  a  sphere.  But  if  in  the 
tenth  century  we  find  the  work  of  transcribing  so  common,  that  there 
were  writers  everywhere,  in  the  cities  and  country  places  in  Italy,  and,  as 
it  would  seem  from  other  letters,  no  difficulty  in  finding  them  elsewhere, 
if  the  collection  of  a  library  was  so  great  a  matter,  that  many  were  ready 
to  assist,  surely  matters  were  far  different  from  our  common  notions. — 
Ed."] 


57 


THE  "BREVE  RECORDATIONS   OF  THE  ABBOT  BONUS. 

This  document  would  have  been  too  long  for  inser- 
tion in  a  magazine ;  but  I  hope  it  is  not  out  of  place 
here ;  and  I  cannot  resist  the  temptation  to  give  it 
entire,  not  only  because  it  seems  to  be  the  fairest  way 
of  dealing  in  the  matter,  but  also  because  it  is  really  a 
curious  document,  both  as  to  facts  and  style.  No 
translation  would  do  it  justice.  The  good  abbot  does 
indeed 

"  From  settled  rules  with  brave  disorder  part, 
And  snatch  a  grace  beyond  the  reach  of  art." 

The  dignified,  though  unpretending,  simplicity  with 
which  he  breaks  his  way  through  the  little  restraints 
of  grammar,  and  gratefully  uses  the  first  case  or  tense 
that  comes  to  hand,  will  probably  be  new  to  most 
readers,  and  will,  I  trust,  convince  those  who  are  sus- 
picious, that  I  am  not  upholding  the  pure  latinity  of 
the  Dark  Ages. 

"  In  nomine  Domini  nostri  Jesu  Christi  Dei  eterni.  Breve 
recordations  facio  ego  Bonus  Abbas,  qualiter  ab  initio  in- 
choavi  conversari  in  Ecclesia  Sancti  Michaelis,  que  nunc  est 
cenobium.  Fecit  me  venire  Senior  Stephanus  de  Nonantulis, 
cum  avunculo  meo  Petro,  et  investivit  me  de  ista  capella, 
que  tunc  temporis  detinebatur  a  presbyteris,  et  neque  mona- 
chum,  neque  Abbatem  ibidem  inveni ;  et  non  casam,  neque 
mansionem,  sed  tantummodo  unum  tugurium,  ubi  cepi  habi- 
tare  cum  avunculo  meo.  Et  operabatur  tunc  temporis  in 
turre  ipsius  ecclesise,  et  quod  habebam,  et  habere  potui  dedi 
in  restaurationem  ipsius  turris  ad  magistros  et  ad  manuales, 
et  ad  quod  necesse  erat.  Et  cessavit  ipse  Stefanus  laborare 
in  ecclesia  post  unum  mensem  quam  ego  cepi  habitare  in 
ipso  loco,  et  non  levavit  in  altitudinem  ipsam  turrem  nisi 
tantummodo  unum  passuni  super  ipsam  ecclesiam.     Et  post 


58  abbot  bonus's  [no.  IV. 

hec  finitus  est  annus  quod  ipsa  ecclesia  fuit  offerta  ad  honorem 
Dei  et  Sancti  Michaelis,  et  ad  officium  Sancti  Benedicti,  et 
ad  ipsius  regulam  monachis  ibidem  in  perpetuum  conversan- 
dis.  Et  hoc  vobis  notum  sit,  quia  in  ipsa  ecclesia  non  inveni 
aliud  nisi  unum  missale,  et  unura  calicem  de  stagno,  et  unura 
camisum   cum   amicto,    et   unam   stolani    de    lino,    et    unam 

planetulam,   que  nunc  superest8 quia  non  inveni  in 

ipso  loco  neque  squillam,  neque  campanam,  sed  tantummodo 

unam  tabulam  et  cum  ipsa  tabula ipsa  ecclesia  qua- 

tuor nunc   audite   et   intelligite   qualiter   melioratus 

est  locus  ipse  cum  auxilio  Omnipotentis  Dei,  et  meo,  et  de 
meis  monachis,  et  de  bonis  christianis  nostre  civitatis.  Post 
quinque  annos  cepi  laborare  in  ipsam  turrim  quam  nunc  vi- 
detis  de  helemosina  bonorum  hominum  que  nobis  dabatur,  et 
edificavi  in  ipsa  turre  ecclesiam  que  nunc  videtur  ab  omnibus  et 
perrexi  ad  Romam  per  columnas  ipsius  ecclesise,  et  comparavi, 
et  feci  eas  venire  in  navim  per  mare,  de  nostro  pretio ;  et  post 
hoc  edificavi  super  ipsam  ecclesiam  campanilem.  Cum  au- 
tem  consummatum  fuisset  ipsum  campanilem  cum  turris 
et  ecclesia,  ambulavi  per  civitatem  nostram  cum  Burello 
quondam  bone  memorie,  et  cum  Landulfo  parente  ipsius  et 
cum  tribus  aliis  religiosis  hominibus,  et  acquisivimus  ipsa 
die  centum  solidos,  quos  dedi  pro  pretio  ad  magistros,  et 
posui  in  ipsum  campanile  duas  campanas.  Et  post  quin- 
decim  annos  videbatur  mihi  et  fratribus  meis  ipsum  campani- 
lem parvum  et  rusticior,  et  everti  eum  a  fundamentis,  et  feci 
fabricare  ilium  quomodo  videtis  valde  pulchrior,  et  posui  in 
ipsum  campanas  septem,  quos  omnes  de  helemosinis  fecit 
Domnus  Dominicus  meus  Prior9,  quern  ego  enutrivi,  et  nunc 

8  I  give  the  document  as  I  find  it,  presuming  that  such  marks  here  and 
elsewhere  indicate  an  hiatus  in  the  MS. 

9  The  authors  of  the  Annales  Camaldulenses  combat  what  they  suppose 
to  be  the  mistake  of  thinking  that  the  Prior  cast  the  bells  himself;  but  I 
confess  I  so  understand  the  Abbot,  and  am  rather  jealous  of  any  attempt 
to  rob  the  Prior  of  the  credit  due  to  him  for  this  work  of  art.  Who  else 
was  so  likely  to  be  able  to  do  it  ?  Of  an  archdeacon  of  Verona,  nearly 
two  hundred  years  before,  we  are  told  : 

"  Quicquid  auro,  vel  argento,  et  metallis  ceteris, 
Quicquid  lignis  ex  diversis,  et  marmore  candido, 
Nullus  unquam  sic  peritus  in  tantis  operibus ;" 

and  plenty  of  such  instances  will  occur  to  those  who  have  paid  any  atten- 


XO.  IV.]  u  BREVE    RECORDATIOXIS."  59 

est  Abbas  Monasterii  Sancti  Zenonis  :  et  omnes  facte  sunt 
de  helemosinis,  que  nobis  facte  sunt,  et  de  missis,  quas  ego 

et  monachi  raei  decantaverunt Et  habent  in  se  ipse 

campane    libras    metallorum   tantas.       Una    campana   major 

est  ponderis  M.CC alia  quingentarum,  tertia  trecen- 

tarum,  quarta  ducentarum,  quinta  centum,  sexta  et  septima 
quinquagintarum.  Quando  veni  in  ipsum  locum,  non  in- 
veni,  sicut  superius  memoravimus,  nisi  unum  camisum  cum 
planetula  et  stola  sua  linea.  Nunc  autem  habemus  in 
istum  locum  sanctum  camisi  xiii  cum  amictis  suis.  Et  tres 
camisi  sunt  tarn  perfecti  et  optimi  ut  Episcopus  Opizus ■ 
domui  Sancte  Marie  possit  cum  honore  cantare  missas  in  die 
Pasche.  Et  tres  planetas,  duo  de  pallio,  una  valentes  solidos 
centum,  alia  valentes  solidos  xxx,  tertia  de  castanea,  et  tres 
stolas  optimas  cum  manipulis  suis,  due  de  purpure,  et  alia 
de  pallio  et  tres  corporales  de  pallio  valde  optimo.  Unum 
corporale  de  ipsis  tribus  est  de  brusco  deaurato  valente  soli- 
dos xx  quern  fecit  Leo  Papa  quarto  Romanus,  et  habet  in 
se  depicta  imago  Salvatoris  nostri  de  brusco,  et  ex  una  parte 
imago  Sancti  Petri  Apostoli,  et  ex  alia  parte  Sancti  Johannis 
Evangeliste,  et  unum  pluviale  de  purpura,  et  alium  de  pallio 
valde  bonum.  Quando  veni  in  ipsum  locum  non  legebatur  in 
ipsa  ecclesia  per  totum  fere  annum  nisi  epistole  et  evanc/elia, 
quia  non  habebatur  nisi  unum  missale.  Nunc  autem  scitote 
quod  melioratus  est  de  libris  ipsum  locum. 

[Here  follows  the  list  of  books  already  given  at  p.  46.] 
11  Quot  sunt  insuper  totum  numeris  xxxiv.  Quando  veni 
in  ipsa  ecclesia  non  inveni  nisi  unum  calicem  de  stagno. 
Modo,  autem,  cum  auxilio  Domini,  habentur  ibi  calices  mi. 
Unum  de  auro,  valde  bonus,  et  habet  uncias  xi.  Alius  de 
argento  major,  et  habet  libras  in  et  mediam.  Alii  duo 
habentes  in  se   libram  unam  de  argento  per  unamquemque. 

tion  to  the  subject ;  but  I  notice  it  because  I  do  not  like  to  pass  an  oppor- 
tunity of  telling  the  march-of-intellect  gentlemen,  how  much  they  are 
indebted  to  the  monks  for  even  what  they  are  pleased  to  call  "  useful 
knowledge"  in  contradistinction  to  that  knowledge,  which,  to  be  sure,  is 
of  no  more  use  to  them  than  Alnwick  or  Chatsworth  is  to  me.  Of  the 
same  Archdeacon  I  read,  "  Horologium  nocturnum  nullus  ante  viderat," 
— but  I  hope  to  say  more  of  him  another  time. 

1  He  was  Bishop  of  Pisa  in  a.d.  104  4.      See  Ughelli,  Italia  Sacra,  torn, 
iii.  p.  407. 


GO  ABBOT  BONUS'S  BREVE  RECORD.     [xo.  IV. 

Quando  veni  in  ipsum  locum  non  inveni  nisi  unum  parvani 
domura,   et  postquam   cepi    commorari    cum    meis  monachis, 
feci  levare  mansiones  ibidem  novas,  et  post  decern  annos  dis- 
rumpebantur    ipse    mansiones   quas    feci,    quoniam   erant   de 
ligno  de  mala  generatione,  hoc  est  fuere  de  cerro.     Et  dejeci 
ipse  mansiones  a  fundamentis.     Et  hedificavi  alias  mansiones 
de  lignis  castanietis  quas  venire  feci  per  mare  de  Luni.     Et 
non  post  multum  tempus  comparavi  da  Erigo  filio  Eritii  ter- 
rain,  ubi  nunc  ipsum  monasterium  consistit,  et  dedi  in  ipsa 
terra  libras  xlii,  et  post  hec  hedificavi  ipsam  domum  a  petra 
et   calcina,    ubi   sunt   omnes   officines,    si  cut    abbatia   habere 
debet ;  et  est  tarn  perfecta  domus,  ut  in  tota  Marcha  melior 
non   est,    cum   columnas,    quas    de    Insula   Ilba   et   de    Luni 
adduci  feci.     Et  hoc  sciatis,  quia  quando  veni  in  ipsum  locum 
non  dedit  amplius  terre  Stefanus  in  offersionem  in  ipsa  eccle- 
sia,  nisi  stariorum  sex  in  loco  Sejo  de  valde  mala,  et  stariorum 
XXIIII  ad  Tramarice  et  similiter  mala.    Nunc  audite  qualiter, 
adjuvante  Domino,  amplificatus  est  locus  ipse  de  bona  terra. 
Habet  Monasterium    Sancti    Michaelis   modo    DC   stariorum 
de  terra.     Dedimus  nos   pretium   in   ipsa  terra,    quod   nobis 
Dominus    dedit   magnam   partem,    videlicet    libras   C    valde 
modice  minus,  et  de  alie  terre  cantavimus  et  promisimus  ad 
ipsos  parentes,  que  in  ipsum  locum  dari  fecerunt  in  manibus 
nostris,  multe  misse  decantari.     Cui  mille,  cui  quingente,  cui 
trecente,  cui  centum,   et  adjutorium  et   consilium    habuimus 
in  aliquantulum  de  nostris  senioribus.     Et  dedit  Albertus  de 
Acuto    in    ipsum    locum    curtem   unam   in    Corsica,    propter 
amorem  et  servitium  quod  fecit  Johannes  nepoti  meo  ad  pre- 
dicto  Alberto ;  et  promisi  dare  predicto  Johanni  servitium  x 
libr.  ut  me  adjuvaret,  et  non  tulit  mihi  propter  meum  amo- 
rem nisi  solid,  xx  et  fecit  mihi  dare  hanc  curtem,  et  detinet 
ipsam  curtem,  inter  montes  et  colles  et  planities  et  agros  sis- 
tariorum  innumerabiles.     Hoc  est  malum  quod  ego  feci  cum 
monachis  meis  per  annos  xxx  in  ipsum  locum  ;  et  non  vobis 
abscondam    verecundiam   meam,    quoniam    quando     inchoavi 
habitare  in  eodem  loco,    tarn   pauper  erat   locus,    in   duobus 
annis  non  habui  nisi  unam  stamineam  per  annum,  et  tempore 
estatis  in   meridie,  quando  dormire   pergebam,    ipsam  stami- 
neam  ad   lavandum    dabam :    et   quando   surgebam,    predicta 
lota   staminea   induebar.     Et   nunquam    habui    equum,    sicut 
ceteri  abbatcs  habcnt,  et  etiam  viles  monachi.     Sed  si  necesse 


no.  v.]  haimon's  homilies.  61 

erat  in  silva  ambulare,  aut  in  aliquo  loco,  pedibus  meis  am- 
bulabam ;  et  non  duplicia  vestimenta  desideravi,  sed  quando 
novum  induebar,  neque  per  Pascha  neque  per  Natalem, 
alium  mutavi  usque  dum  scinderetur,  quia  consideravi  pau- 
pertatem  loci,   ut  cum  debito  non  maneret.      Et  multa  alia 

feci,  que  commemorare  longum  est argenteum  et 

alium  ereum,  quando  elongavi  ecclesiam  Sancti  Michaelis 
expendi  in  ipsa  ecclesia  solidos  mille  sine  pane,  et  sine  vino, 
et  sine  came,  et  sine  pisces.  Omnia  ista  expensaria  in  breve 
habentur  scripta."  p.  123. 


No.  V. 


"  Sed  quis  pejerat  hoc  ?     Non  Muratorius  hercle 
Maffejusve,  et  Averanius,  non  qui  Calepinum 
Restituit  nuper." — L.  Sectanus. 

"  Scientia  fere  omnis  exolevit :  et  ubique  locorum  non  mediocris  igno- 
rantia  successit.  Quod  cum  aio,  non  est  mihi  animus  significant, 
Italiam  in  Lapponiam  turn  fuisse  conversam,  literasque  adeo  sublatas, 
ut  neque  legere  neque  scribere  quisquam  nosset.  Aut  delirantis,  aut 
infantissimi  plane  hominis  haec  opinio  foret." — Muratorius. 

Proceeding  with  his  proofs  and  illustrations  of  the 
extreme  darkness  of  the  middle  ages,  Robertson  tells 
us — 

"  The  price  of  books  became  so  high,  that  persons  of  a 
moderate  fortune  could  not  afford  to  purchase  them.  The 
Countess  of  Anjou  paid  for  a  copy  of  the  Homilies  of  Hai- 
mon,  Bishop  of  Halberstadt,  two  hundred  sheep,  five  quar- 
ters of  wheat,  and  the  same  quantity  of  rye  and  millet. 
Histoire  Literaire  de  France,  par  des  Religieux  Benedictins, 
torn.  vii.  p.  3." 

Of  course  we  are  to  understand  that  this  was  some- 
where about  the  market  price  of  a  volume  of  homilies  ; 
and  a  price  arising  out  of  the  scarcity  of  the  article, 
and  the  consequent  difficulty  of  procuring  it  ;  and,  if 


62  ROBERTSON    OF  [NO.  V. 

this  was  the  case,  it  is  quite  clear  that  in  those  days 
most  people  must  either  have  made  homilies  for  them- 
selves, or  gone  without  them.  The  story  is,  however, 
so  very  good  that  one  would  be  tempted,  at  first  sight, 
to  suspect  it  of  not  being  true.  Let  us  see  what  the 
price  stated  by  Robertson  actually  was,  for  it  is  fortu- 
natelv  given  in  terms  more  intelligible — at  least  in 

ml  O  O 

such  a  way  as  that  we  are  more  likely  to  come  at  a 
true  notion  of  value — than  if  it  had  been  stated  in 
terms  of  money.  The  scribe,  it  is  said,  received  two 
hundred  sheep,  and  fifteen  quarters  (that  is,  thirty 
sacks)  of  grain.  It  may  reasonably  be  presumed  that 
the  sheep  were  alive,  and  likely  to  increase ;  that  they 
had  wool,  which  was  worth  something ;  or,  at  any  rate, 
two  hundred  skins,  which  would,  of  themselves,  be  a 
little  fortune  to  a  man  who  lived  upon  parchment. 
But  waiving  all  this,  and  considering  the  sheep  as  mere 
mutton,  the  scribe  would  be  furnished  with  almost  half 
a  sheep,  and  more  than  half  a  bushel  of  grain,  per 
week  for  four  years.  Was  there  nobody  who  would 
transcribe  a  few  homilies  on  more  reasonable  terms? 
Surely,  from  that  time  forth,  every  man  in  Anjou,  and 
every  where  else,  who  heard  of  the  transaction,  set 
about  learning  the  art  of  penmanship,  which  must  have 
been,  beyond  all  comparison,  the  most  lucrative  which 
had  ever  been  practised,  and  which  might  fairly  vie 
with  alchemy  itself. 

Let  us,  however,  look  at  the  authorities.  Robertson 
refers  to  the  Histoire  Literaire  de  France,  where  the 
story  is  thus  told  : — "  Un  trait  que  l'histoire  nous  a 
conserve  touchant  le  prix  excessif  des  livres  en  ce 
temps  la,  nous  doit  faire  juger  de  leur  rarete.  Encore 
s'ao-it-il  d'un  auteur  ecclesiastique,  le  recueil  des 
homilies  d'Haimon  d'Halberstadt.  Grecie  Comtesse 
d'Anjou,  l'acheta  deux  cents  brebis,  un  tnuid  do  fro- 
nicnt,  an  autre  de  seigle,  an  troisi&me  de  millet,  et  un 

1 


no.  v.]  haimon's  homilies.  03 

certain  nombre  de  peaux  de  martres.  II  falloit  etre 
riche  pour  former  de  nombreuses  bibliotheques  au 
meme  prix."  Perhaps  nobody  will  dispute  the  infer- 
ence which  these  historians  draw  from  the  story;  but 
some  will  be  surprised  that  Robertson  omitted  the 
"certain  nombre  de  peaux  de  martres."  This  certain 
(that  is,  of  course,  uncertain)  number  may  be  supposed 
to  stand  for  any  quantity  of  rich  and  costly  furs,  and 
increases  the  price  and  the  wonder  greatly  l. 

But  let  us  retrograde  another  step,  and  look  at  the 
authority  to  which  the  authors  of  the  "  Histoire  Lite- 
raire"  refer.  Mabillon,  having  occasion,  in  his  "  Bene- 
dictine Annals,"  to  mention  the  Countess  Grecia  as  a 
subscribing  witness  to  a  charter  of  about  the  year  1056, 
by  which  Geoffry  Martel,  Count  of  Anjou,  granted 
certain  privileges  to  the  monks  of  St.  Nicholas  at 
Angers,  adds,  that  she  was  the  second  wife  of  that 
Count,  and  married  to  him  after  his  divorce  from  his 
first  Countess,  Agnes  of  Burgundy.  He  farther  says, 
that  the  divorce  is  mentioned  in  a  letter  from  a  monk 
to  the  Abbot  Oderic,  who  had  asked  him  about  a  cer- 
tain homilary  of  Haymo  ;  and  remarks,  that  though 
not  very  important  in  itself,  the  monk's  letter  is  worth 
transcribing,  because  it  shews  both  the  high  price  of 
books,  and  the  estimation  in  which  these  homilies  were 

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


64  ROBERTSON    OF  [NO.  V. 

held  at  that  period.     He  then  gives  the  letter,  which  is 
as  follows : — 

"  To  his  Lord  the  Abbot  0.  brother  R.  offers  his  prayers 
in  Christ.  Most  dear  father,  I  would  have  you  to  know  that 
the  Countess  bought  the  book  of  which  you  have  heard,  for 
a  great  price,  of  Martin,  who  is  now  a  bishop.  On  one 
occasion  she  gave  him  a  hundred  sheep  on  account  of  that 
book  ;  at  another  time,  on  account  of  that  same  book,  a  modius 
of  wheat,  another  of  rye,  and  a  third  of  millet.  Again,  on 
the  same  account,  a  hundred  sheep  ;  at  another  time,  some 
marten  skins.  And  when  she  separated  herself  from  the 
Count  he  received  from  her  four  pounds  to  buy  sheep.  But 
afterwards,  when  she  asked  him  for  the  change,  he  began  to 
complain  about  the  book.  She  immediately  gave  up  to  him 
what  he  owed  her2.1'' 


2  Mabillon' s  words  are — "  De  hoc  divortio  fit  mentio  in  quadam  epis- 
tola  cujusdam  monachi  ad  Odericum  Abbatera  qui  monachum  ilium  de 
homilario  Haimonis  percontatus  fuerat.  Haec  epistola,  tametsi  in  speciem 
non  magni  momenti,  hie  referenda  videtnr,  ex  qua  nimirum  intelligitur, 
quanti  tunc  temporis  constarent  libri,  quantique  hoc  homilarium  habere- 
tur.     Sic  autem  habet  ilia  Epistola. 

"  Domno  suo  Abbati  O.,  frater  R.  orationes  in  Christo.  Pater  caris- 
sime,  scire  vos  volumus,  quod  codicem,  de  quo  audivisti,  pretio  magno  a 
Martino,  qui  est  modo  prsesul,  Comitissa  emit.  Una  vice  libri  causa 
centum  oves  illi  dedit :  altera  vice  causa  ipsius  libri  unum  modium  fru- 
menti,  et  alterum  sigalis,  et  tertium  de  milio.  Iterum  hac  eadem  causa 
centum  oves  :  altera  vice  quasdam  pelles  martirinas.  Cumque  separavit 
se  a  Comite,  quatuor  libratas,  ovium  emendi  causa,  ab  ilia  accepit.  Post- 
quam  autem  requisivit  denarios,  ille  conqueri  coepit  de  libro.  Ilia  statim 
dimisit  illi  quod  sibi  debebat." 

Mabillon  proceeds  to  say — "  Martinus  ille  praesul,  capellanus  fuerat 
Gaufridi  Comitis  et  Agnetis,  postmodum  Episcopus  Trecorensis,  ut  supe- 
rius  vidimus  ex  quadam  charta  eorundem  quam  scripsit  Martinus  tunc 
Capellanus,  postea  Treguerensis  Episcopus."    Lib.  LXI.  No.  6.  p.  528. 

Mabillon  gives  no  authority,  that  I  see,  for  the  letter,  and  may  therefore 
be  presumed  to  quote  from  the  original.  It  will  be  observed  that  the  letter 
itself  mentions  neither  homilary  nor  Haymo.  Mabillon  says  both  ;  I  should 
like  to  know  why  he  says  that  the  codex  contained  the  homilies  of  Hay- 
mon  ;  for  I  cannot  help  thinking  that  the  Codex  might  be  that  service- 
book  which  was  then  more  properly  and  strictly,  and  commonly  too,  (if 
not  exclusively)  called  a  Homilary;  and,  if  it  was  a  book  got  up  for  the 
church  service,  in  any  such  way  as  some  which  will  be  described  pre- 
sently, the  price  is  not  so  remarkable. 


no.  v.]  haimon's  homilies.  6d 

On  this  letter  I  would  observe — 

1.  If  there  is  really  any  reference  to  the  divorce,  it 
seems  obvious  that  it  must  have  been  Agnes  (who 
separated  herself),  and  not  Grecia  (her  successor),  who 
purchased  the  book.  I  cannot  help  doubting,  however, 
whether  there  is  any  such  reference ;  though  I  have  so 
far  deferred  to  Mabillon  as  to  translate  separavit  se,  by 
"she  separated,"  and  accepit,  by  "he  received."  We 
learn,  from  the  subscription  to  another  charter,  that 
Martin  had  been  the  Count's  chaplain ;  and,  from  this 
letter,  that  he  had  ceased  to  be  so ;  and  I  cannot  but 
think  that  the  "separavit  se"  may  mean  when  he 
quitted  the  Count's  service. 

2.  It  is  more  to  the  purpose  to  observe,  that  this 
book  of  homilies  was  a  peculiar  volume,  which  was  the 
subject  of  particular  inquiry.  The  Abbot  was  asking 
about  it,  and  the  monk,  who  knew  its  history,  describes 
it  as  the  volume  which  the  Countess  bought  at  "  a  great 
price."  So  that  what  she  gave  was  then  considered 
extraordinary. 

3.  The  price  was  paid  at  different  times,  and  in  so 
strange  a  manner,  that  it  looks  rather  as  if  the  chap- 
lain was  some  skilful  artist  who  was  honoured  on 
account  of  his  talents,  and  took  advantage  of  them  to 
work  on  the  liberality  of  his  patroness. 

4.  As  to  the  quantity  of  grain — I  suffer  modius  to 
stand,  because,  if  I  were  to  translate  it,  I  should  be 
inclined  to  say  "one  bushel"  instead  of  "five  quar- 
ters," which  would,  of  course,  divide  Robertson's  quan- 
tity by  forty.  I  do  not  mean  to  say  that  the  English 
bushel  is  the  exact  representative  of  the  modius  here 
spoken  of,  for  what  that  was  precisely  I  really  do  not 
know ;  and  whoever  looks  into  the  subject  of  weights 
and  measures  will  perceive  that  it  is  not  very  easy  to 
determine;  but  I  am  inclined  to  think  that  \  should 
be  giving  very  good  measure. 

F 


66  PRICE    OF    BOOKS  [NO.  V. 

Now  let  me  appeal  to  every  rational  and  reflecting 
person,  whether  it  is  from  such  cases  that  we  can  judge 
of  the  price  of  books  in  general,  or  of  the  comparative 
ease  or  difficulty  of  procuring  them  ?  Are  we  to  form 
our  ideas  from  the  sums  paid  or  given  by  royal  and 
noble  patrons  and  patronesses  to  artists,  wThose  skill  in 
writing,  illuminating,  and  embellishing  manuscripts, 
enabled  them  to  ask  what  they  pleased,  and  get  what- 
ever they  asked 3? 

Suppose,  however,  that  there  was  no  fine  writing  in 
the  case,  it  is  still  very  possible  that,  on  other  grounds, 
the  book  might  have  been  worth  twice,  or  twenty 
times,  as  much  as  the  countess  gave  for  it,  without 
proving  that  books  in  general  were  so  outrageously 
scarce  and  dear.  From  such  cases,  indeed,  we  cannot, 
as  I  have  already  said,  prove  anything.  Will  it  not  be 
quite  as  fair  for  some  writer  a  few  centuries  hence  to 
bring  forward  the  enormous  and  absurd  prices  which 
have  been  paid  by  some  modern  collectors  for  single 
volumes,  as  an  evidence  of  the  price  of  books  in  our 
age  ?  May  he  not  tell  his  gaping  readers,  (at  a  time, 
too,  when  the  march  of  intellect  has  got  past  the  age 
of  cumbersome  and  expensive  penny  magazines,  and  is 
revelling  in  farthing  cyclopaedias,)  that  in  the  year 
1812,  one  of  our  nobility  gave  2260/.,  and  another, 
1060/.  10s.  for  a  single  volume?    and  that  the   next 


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


NO.  V.]  IX    THE    DARK    AGES.  67 

year,  a  Johnson's  Dictionary  was  sold  by  public  auction, 
to  a  plebeian  purchaser,  for  200/.?  A  few  such  facts 
would  quite  set  up  some  future  Robertson,  whose  read- 
ers would  never  dream  that  we  could  get  better  read- 
ing, and  plenty  of  it,  much  cheaper  at  that  very  time. 
The  simple  fact  is,  that  there  has  always  been  such  a 
thing  as  bibliomania  since  there  have  been  books  in  the 
world  ;  and  no  member  of  the  Roxburgh  Club  has  yet 
equalled  the  Elector  of  Bavaria,  who  gave  a  town  for  a 
single  manuscript — unless,  indeed,  it  be  argued  that  it 
was  a  more  pure,  disinterested,  and  brilliant  display  of 
the  ruling  passion,  a  more  devoted  and  heroic  sacrifice 
of  property  and  respect,  to  give  2000/.  for  an  unique 
specimen  of  obscene  trash,  than  to  part  with  a  German 
town  for  a  copy  of  the  New  Testament. 

Intrinsic  value  of  this  description,  however,  does  not 
enter  into  the  question,  though  another  species  of  it 
does,  and  it  is  necessary  to  say  a  few  words  about  it, 
which  I  hope  to  do  presently.  In  the  mean  time  let 
me  ask,  does  not  Robertson  proceed  to  state  in  his  very 
next  sentence  what  might,  by  itself,  shew  his  readers 
that  the  transaction  which  he  had  just  recorded  was 
not  peculiarly  characteristic  of  the  age  in  which  it 
occurred  ?     He  goes  on  to  say : — 

"  Even  so  late  as  the  year  1471,  when  Louis  XI.  borrowed 
the  works  of  Rasis,  the  Arabian  physician,  from  the  Faculty 
of  Medicine  in  Paris,  he  not  only  deposited  as  a  pledge  a 
considerable  quantity  of  plate,  but  was  obliged  to  procure  a 
nobleman  to  join  with  him  as  surety  in  a  deed,  binding  him- 
self under  a  great  forfeiture  to  restore  it.  Gabr.  Naude 
Addit.  a  Fhistoire  de  Louys  XL  par  Comines.  edit,  de  Fres- 
noy,  torn.  iv.  p.  281.  Many  curious  circumstances  with  re- 
spect to  the  extravagant  price  of  books  in  the  middle  ages,  are 
collected  by  that  industrious  compiler,  to  whom  I  refer  such 
of  my  readers  as  deem  this  small  branch  of  literary  history  an 
object  of  curiosity ." 

Might  I  not  add,  that  "even  so  late  as"  two  centu- 

f  2 


68  COSTLY    MATERIALS  [NO.  V. 

ries  after  the  occurrence  mentioned  by  Robertson,  when 
Selden  wished  to  borrow  a  MS.  from  the  Bodleian 
Library,  he  was  required  to  give  a  bond  for  a  thousand 
pounds  ?  but  does  it  follow  that  in  that  dark  age  he 
could  not  have  got  as  much  good  reading  on  easier 
terms  ? 

I  have  said,  however,  that  there  was  frequently  an 
intrinsic  value  in  books  independent  of  that  which 
might  arise  from  their  subject ;  and  I  mean  that  which 
was  inseparable  from  the  nature  of  the  costly  materials 
of  which  they  were  composed,  as  well  as  from  the  art 
and  labour  bestowed  in  making  them.  This  value  was 
often,  I  apprehend,  much  greater  than  many  of  Robert- 
son's readers  would  imagine ;  and  if  they  think  of  a 
book  as  nothing  but  a  thing  to  read,  and  (looking  back 
to  the  dark  ages)  as  only  a  cramp  illegible  scrawl  on 
dirty  parchment,  they  will  form  a  very  erroneous  opi- 
nion on  the  whole  matter.  Books,  and  especially  those 
used  in  the  church  service,  (of  which,  by  the  way,  gene- 
ral readers  are  most  likely  to  hear,  and  to  which  class, 
I  suspect,  as  I  have  said,  that  this  Homilary  belonged,) 
were  frequently  written  with  great  care  and  pains,  illu- 
minated and  gilded  with  almost  incredible  industry, 
bound  in,  or  covered  with,  plates  of  gold,  silver,  or 
carved  ivory,  adorned  with  gems,  and  even  enriched 
with  relics.  Missals  of  a  later  date  than  the  period 
with  which  we  are  at  present  concerned  were,  some 
years  ago,  the  objects  of  eager  competition  among  col- 
lectors, and  some  of  them  must  always  be  admired  for 
the  exquisite  beauty  of  their  embellishments.  I  am 
not  going  to  compare  the  graphic  performances  of  the 
ninth  and  tenth  centuries  with  those  of  the  thirteenth 
and  fourteenth ;  in  this  point  of  view  it  may  suffice  to 
sav,  that  they  were  the  finest  specimens  of  art  which 
those  who  purchased  them  had  ever  seen,  and  in  all 
matters  of  taste  and  fancy  this  is  Baying  n  good  deal. 


NO.  V.]  OF    ANCIENT    BOOKS.  69 

As  to  the  value  of  books,  however,  which  arose  from 
the  costly  materials  of  which  they  were  made,  or  the 
labour,  industry,  and  taste,  with  which  they  were  em- 
bellished, I  hope  I  shall  find  a  more  proper  place  to 
speak  ;  and  I  feel  that  for  our  present  purpose  it  is 
quite  sufficient  to  make  this  general  reference  to  it; 
but  there  was  another  species  of  value  attaching  to 
some  books  in  those  ages  which  does  not  present  itself 
to  our  minds  so  obviouslv  or  forciblv.  The  multiplica- 
tion  of  books,  by  printing,  has  not  only  rendered  them 
much  cheaper  by  reducing  the  labour  required  for  the 
production  of  a  large  number  of  copies,  but  it  has  pro- 
vided that  each  one  of  that  larofe  number  should  be  a 
fac-simile  of  all  the  rest.  He  who  sees  one  copy  of  an 
edition  sees  all :  that  edition  is  dispersed  among  those 
who  can  best  judge  of  its  value  ;  it  receives  from  their 
suffrages  a  certain  character ;  and  from  that  time  forth, 
if  we  see  the  title-page,  we  know  what  are  the  contents 
or  the  errors  of  every  other  page  in  the  book.  Among 
those  who  are  likely  to  want  it,  it  is  sufficient  to  men- 
tion the  time  and  place  of  its  publication,  and  if  we 
admire  the  correctness  and  readableness  of  our  own 
edition  of  a  father  or  a  classic,  we  recommend  our 
friends  to  get  it,  well  knowing  that  as  there  is  one  there 
are  many ;  or  that,  at  least,  our  own  copy  is  not  likely 
to  be  unique,  or  we  should  infallibly  have  heard  of  it 
from  our  bookseller.  Now,  in  those  days  every  copy 
was  unique — every  one,  if  I  may  so  speak,  stood  upon 
its  own  individual  character ;  and  the  correctness  of  a 
particular  manuscript  was  no  pledge  for  even  those 
which  were  copied  immediately  from  it.  In  fact,  the 
correctness  of  every  single  copy  could  only  be  ascer- 
tained by  minute  and  laborious  collation,  and  by  the 
same  sort  of  tedious  and  wearisome  process  which  is 
now  required  from  the  editor  who,  with  infinitely  more 
ease  ami  better  helps,  revises  the  text   of  an  ancient 


70  OFFERING    BOOKS  [NO.  V. 

writer.  We  may,  therefore,  naturally  suppose  that  if 
a  manuscript  was  known  to  be  the  work  of  a  good  and 
careful  scribe — if  it  came  out  of  the  Scriptorium  of 
some  well-respected  monastery — if  it  had  passed 
through  learned  hands,  and  had  been  found,  by  the 
scrutiny  which  it  was  then  necessary  to  give  to  each 
individual  copy,  to  be  an  accurate  work  which  might 
be  safely  trusted  as  a  copy  for  future  transcripts — if 
all  this  was  known  and  attested,  it  would  form  another 
and  a  very  good  reason  why  a  book  should  fetch  an 
extraordinary  price. 

But  to  return  to  Robertson — 

"  When  any  person  made  a  present  of  a  book  to  a  church 
or  a  monastery,  in  which  were  the  only  libraries  during  these 
ages,  it  was  deemed  a  donative  of  such  value,  that  he  offered 
it  on  the  altar  pro  remedio  animce  saw,  in  order  to  obtain  the 
forgiveness  of  his  sins.  Murat.  vol.  iii.  p.  836.  Hist.  Liter, 
de  France,  t.  vi.  p.  6.  Nouv.  Trait,  du  Diplomat,  par  deux 
Benedictins,  4to.  torn.  i.  p.  481 ." 

Now  really  if  a  book  was  to  cost  two  hundred  sheep 
and  fifteen  quarters  of  grain,  (to  say  nothing  of  the 
furs  and  money,)  I  do  not  see  anything  very  absurd  in 
its  being  treated  as  a  donative  of  value  ;  at  least,  I 
wish  that  people  would  make  gifts  of  the  same  value 
to  churches  now-a-days,  and  I  believe  they  would  find 
that  they  were  not  considered  quite  contemptible.  I 
think  I  have  seen  in  a  parish  church  a  board,  (whether 
gilt  or  not,  I  do  not  remember,)  informing  the  world 
that  Esquire  somebody  had  given  "  forty  shillings  a  year 
for  ever  to  the  poor  of  the  parish — viz.,  to  the  vicar, 
five  shillings,"  for  preaching  an  annual  sermon  to  com- 
memorate his  bounty,  and  so  forth. 

But  let  me  say  a  few  words,  first,  as  to  the  autho- 
rities, and  then  as  to  the  fact. 

First,  then,  as  to  the  authorities,  which  it  will  be 
most  convenient  to  notice  in  an  inverted  order.      In 

1 


NO.   V.J  ON    THE    ALTAR.  71 

the  part  of  the  Nouv.  Traite  du  Diplom.  referred  to,  I 
cannot  find  anything  to  the  purpose,  and  I  can  only 
suppose  that  there  is  some  mistake  in  the  reference. 
To  the  Histoire  Literaire  de  France,  I  have  not  at 
present  access  4 ;  but  the  passage  of  Muratori  referred 
to  is  as  follows : — "  Rari  ergo  quum  olim  forent,  mul- 
toque  aere  redimerentur  codices  MSti,  hinc  intelligimus, 
cur  tanti  fieret  eorum  donatio,  ut  si  quando  vel  ipsi 
Romani  Pontifices  ejusmodi  munera  sacris  templis 
offerebant,  ad  eorum  gloriam  de  iis  mentio  in  historia 
haberetur.  Stephanus  V.  Papa,  ut  est  in  ejus  Vita, 
torn.  iii.  pag.  272,  Rer.  Italicar.  circiter  annum  Christi 
dccclxxxvi.  praater  alios  libros  ibi  commemoratos 
'pro  animse  sua?  remedio  contulit  ecclesise  Sancti  Pauli 
cantharam  exauratam  unam  (fortasse,  cantharum)  Lib. 
Comment.  I.  Prophetarum,  Lib.  I.  Gestarum    Rerum 

Lib.  ii;  " 


4  Since  this  was  published  I  have  referred  to  the  passage,  which  is  as 
follows  :  — 

"  D'autres  ne  croioient  pas  faire  aux  eglises  et  aux  monasteres  de  plus 
excellents  dons,  que  de  leur  offrir  des  livres.  [How  could  they  get  such  an 
idea  in  the  dark  ages  ?]  Et  pour  mieux  marquer  le  cas  qu'ils  en  faisoient, 
ils  les  deposoient  ordinairement  sur  l'Autel,  comme  une  chose  sacree. 
L'usage  de  les  offrir  de  la  sorte  devint  asses  commun  en  ce  siecle a.  On 
ne  trouve  des  vestiges  a  la  tete  d'un  recueil  manuscrit  des  Conciles  gene- 
raux  et  des  Decretales  des  Papes,  ou  se  lit  une  inscription  qui  porte,  que 
ce  livre  fut  offert  a  l'Autel  de  Notre-Dame  du  Puy  par  Adalard  qui  en 
etoit  Eveque  en  919 b.  S.  Maieul,  Abbe  de  Cluny,  a'iant  fait  copier  le 
Commentaire  de  S.  Ambroise  sur  S.  Luc,  et  celui  de  Raban  Maur  sur 
Jeremie,  les  offrit  de  meme  a  son  Monastere,  en  les  mettant  sur  l'Autel  de 
S.  Pierre c.  Letald  nous  apprend  la  meme  chose  de  Pierre,  scavant 
Moine  de  Mici  son  contemporain,  qui  y  donna  divers  recueils  d 'histoire 
apres  les  avoir  depose's  sur  l'Autel  de  S.  Etienne  le  jour  du  Jeudi  saint." 

I  give  the  passage,  to  shew  what  it  is ;  it  is  not  perhaps  worth  while  to 
add  any  remark.  It  will  be  observed  that  the  second  of  these  authorities 
(which  is  in  fact  to  the  Itinerar.  Burgund.)  I  had  myself  noticed,  and 
quoted  in  the  next  paragraph  with  rather  a  different  view. 


1  Gall.  chr.  nov.  t.  2.  p.  693.  b  Mab.  opusc.  t.  2.  p    22 

r  Act.  B.  t.  i.  p.  598.  n.  3. 


72  BOOKS    PRESENTED  [xo.  V. 

Here  it  will  be  obvious  that  the  drift  of  Muratori's 
remark,  which  has  been  misapprehended  by  Robertson, 
is,  not  that  the  books  given  to  churches  were  offered 
on  the  altar,  or  that  they  were  offered  pro  remedio 
animce,  though  the  instance  which  he  quotes  happens 
to  contain  the  words  "pro  remedio  animce  suce?  to 
which  he  undoubtedly  attached  no  importance,  as  well 
knowing,  and  expecting  every  body  to  understand,  that 
this  was,  in  all  such  cases,  implied,  if  not  expressed ; 
but  that,  when  given  even  by  popes,  it  was  thought 
worth  while  to  record  the  donation  in  history,  that  is, 
in  their  lives.  Even  this  remark,  however,  surprises 
me  as  coming  from  a  writer  who  must  have  known 
that  the  gifts  of  some  of  the  popes  to  various  churches 
and  monasteries  were  scrupulously  registered,  and  have 
been  unmercifully  detailed  by  their  biographers ;  and, 
indeed,  some  of  the  books  which  occur  in  such  lists 
might  well  be  considered  "  donatives"  of  great  value, 
even  by  those  who  could  not  read.  For  instance,  when 
Leo  III.,  in  the  beginning  of  the  ninth  century,  gave 
a  copy  of  the  Gospels  so  ornamented  with  gold  and 
precious  stones  that  it  weighed  seventeen  pounds,  four 
ounces 5 ;  or,  when  Benedict  III.  gave  one  to  the 
church  of  St.  Calistus,  adorned  with  gold  and  silver  of 
nearly  the  same  weight 6.  Surely  when  such  books,  or 
even  books  of  less  value,  were  given,  it  was  as  natural 
to  record  the  donation  as  that  of  a  silver  chalice,  or  a 


3  "  Hie  fecit  B.  Petro  apostolo  fautori  suo,  Evangelia  aurea  cum  gemmis 
prasinis  atque  hyacinthinis  et  albis  mirae  magnitudinis  in  circuitu  ornata, 
pensantia  libras  decern  et  septem  et  uncias  quatuor."  See  a  list  of  his 
donations  to  various  churches,  occupying  nearly  twelve  of  the  large  close- 
printed,  double-columned  pages  of  Labbe's  Councils,  torn.  vii.  c.  1090. 

6  "Ad  laudem  et  gloriam  ipsius  Ecclesiae  fecit  Evangelium  argento 
auroque  perfusum  unum  pensans  libras  quindecim  ....  et  in  ecclesia 

beatae  Balbinae  Martyris  obtulit  evangelium  ex  argento  purissimo 

et  in  titulo  beati  Cyriaci  Martyris  obtulit  evangelium  unum  ex  argento 
purissimo  ad  laudem  et  gloriam  ipsius  ecclesia?." — Ibid.,  torn.  viii.  p.  230. 


NO.  V.]  TO    CHURCHES.  73 

silk  vestment.  We  may  also  believe  that  when  books — 
especially  such  books — were  formally  presented  to 
churches,  they  were  offered  on  the  altar,  though  I  have 
met  with  very  few  instances  of  it 7 ;  and,  indeed,  with 
scarcely  any  charter  or  deed  of  gift  conveying  such 
things  as  books  at  all.  The  reason  is  plain — for 
churches  and  monasteries  not  merely  (as  Robertson 
observes  very  truly,  if  not  taken  strictly,)  had  the  only 
libraries,  but  they  were  the  great  and  almost  the  only 
manufactories  of  books.  Still  they  might  be,  and  some- 
times were,  presented  ;  and,  on  such  occasions,  were 
likely  to  be  offered  on  the  altar,  though  neither  because 
they  were  books,  nor  because  they  were  peculiarly 
rare  or  costly ;  but  for  another  reason  which  is  worthy 
of  notice. 

The  false  view  which  Robertson  gives,  and  which  I 
wish  to  expose  and  remove,  arises  from  appropriating 
to  a  particular  case  what  was,  in  principle,  and  as  far  as 
could  be  in  practice,  general  and  universal.  Robertson 
would  have  spoken  more  correctly,  though  not  to  his 
purpose,  if,  instead  of  saying,  "  When  any  person  made 
a  present  of  a  book"  he  had  said,  "  When  any  person 
made  a  present  of  anything  to  a  church,"  he  offered  it 
on  the  altar,  &c.    That  he  offered  it  pro  remedio  animce 


7  Mabillon  thought  it  worth  while  to  mention  that  he  found  in  the 
library,  at  Cluny,  a  copy  of  St.  Ambrose  on  Luke,  at  the  end  of  which 
was  written,  "  Liber  oblatus  ad  Altare  S.  Petri  Cluniensis  Ccenobii  ex  voto 
Domni  atque  Reverentissimi  Maioli  Abbatis."  And  he  remarks  upon  it, 
"  Sic  libros  offerebant  veteres  ad  altare,  et  ad  sepulcra  sanctorum,  quemad- 
modum  de  Mammone  S.  Augendi  praeposito  superius  vidimus."  In  this 
he  refers  to  a  book  which  he  had  mentioned  as  being  in  the  Boherian 
Library  at  Dijon ;  and  of  which  he  had  said,  "  Hie  codex  voto  bona? 
memoriae  Mammonis,  ad  sepulchrum  Sancti  Augendi  oblatus  est  regnante 
Carolo  Calvo,  uti  et  Epistolae  Paschales,  quae  ibidem  habentur  pluresque 
alii  codices,  quos  in  varias  Bibliothecas  dispersos  deprehendimus." — lti- 
nerar.  Burgund.,  pp.  9,  22.  That  of  which  such  a  man  as  Mabillon  thus 
spoke,  could  scarcely  have  been  at  any  period  a  general  and  notorious 
custom  in  the  church. 


74  OFFERING  [NO.  V. 

sues,  or  for  the  spiritual  benefit  of  some  other  person, 
was  always  understood,  though  not  always  expressed  8 ; 
and  that  he  should  offer  it  on  the  altar  was  perfectly 
natural  when  we  consider  to  whom  the  donation  was 
made.  We,  indeed,  commonly  say  that  a  man  gave 
books  or  lands  "to  the  monastery  of  St.  Bertin,"  or 
"  the  monks  of  St.  Martin,"  or  "  the  canons  of  Lille," 
and  he  might  say  the  same  in  his  deed  of  gift  for 
brevity's  sake  ;  for,  as  we  have  heard  often  enough,  and 
I  pretend  not  to  deny,  parchment  wras  expensive  in 
those  days.  Many  charters  run  in  that  form — as  Hilde- 
bert,  Bishop  of  Avignon,  in  1006,  "  donamus  monachis 

qui  in  Coenobio  S.  Andrese  et  S.  Martini modo 

famulantur  Deo  9,"  &c. ;  but,  in  fact,  the  donation  was 
not  made  to  the  church  or  the  monastery — the  canons 
or  monks  had  no  property  in  it,  and  nothing  to  do 
with  it,  except  as  servants  and  stewards  to  provide  for 
its  safe  keeping — the  gift  was  to  God,  and  the  patron 
saint ;  and,  therefore,  it  was  laid  on  the  altar  erected 
in  honour  of  both.  Nothing  could  be  more  natural  or 
reasonable  as  it  respects  Him  who,  though  He  dwelleth 
not  in  temples  made  with  hands,  was  once  pleased  to 
dwell  between  the  cherubim,  and  who,  of  all  that  He 
has  framed  for  man,  or  given  him  skill  to  fashion, 
reserves  only  the  altar  for  Himself,  and  sets  it  over 
against  his  mercy-seat  as  the  symbol  of  that  glory 
which  He  will  not  give  to  another. 

Beside  this,  the  superstition  of  the  age  supposed  the 


8  This  is  not,  however,  to  be  understood  as  having  exclusive  reference 
to  purgatory.  Pommeraye  has  very  well  observed — "  Le  motif  plus  ordi- 
naire qu'apportoient  dans  leurs  chartres  les  bien-faiteurs,  etoit  afin  que 
l'aumosne  qu'ils  faisoient  servist  au  soulagement  de  leurs  ames  et  de  celles 
de  leurs  parens  et  amis  :  e'etoit  aussi  quelquefois  pour  estre  associez  aux 
prieres  et  aux  bonnes  oeuvres  des  monasteres,  dont  les  seigneurs  et  les 
personnes  de  piete  recherchoient  tres  soigneusement  la  participation." — 
Hist.  deVAbbaye  de  S.  Catharine  du  mont  de  Rouen,  p.  84. 

9  Dach.  Spic,  iii.  384. 


NO.  V.]  ON    THE    ALTAR.  75 

glorified  saint  to  know  what  was  going  on  in  the  world ; 
and  to  feel  a  deep  interest,  and  possess  a  considerable 
power,  in  the  church  militant  on  earth.  I  believe  that 
they  who  thought  so  were  altogether  mistaken ;  and  I 
lament,  and  abhor,  and  am  amazed  at  the  superstitions, 
blasphemies,  and  idolatries  which  have  grown  out  of 
that  opinion ;  but  as  to  the  notion  itself,  I  do  not  know 
that  it  was  wicked  ;  and  I  almost  envy  those  whose 
credulous  simplicity  so  realized  the  communion  of 
saints,  and  anticipated  the  period  when  "  the  whole 
family  in  heaven  and  earth"  shall  be  gathered  together 
in  one.  Be  this  as  it  may,  however,  they  conceived  of 
the  saint  as  a  being  still  conversant  among  mortals, — 
hearing  their  prayers,  assisting  them  in  their  need, 
acknowledging  their  gifts  by  intercession  and  protec- 
tion, and  not  unfrequently  making  his  presence  known, 
and  even  visible,  among  them — and  his  altar  was  natu- 
rally the  place  where  all  business  relating  to  his  pro- 
perty in  this  world,  or  his  patronage  in  another,  was 
transacted. 

The  form  of  such  deeds  of  gift  naturally  varied 
"at  different  times  and  in  different  places  ;  and  even 
according  to  the  taste  of  individual  scribes  and  nota- 
ries. I  have  already  said  that  the  gift  was  sometimes 
described  as  made  to  the  monks, — sometimes,  but  I 
think  comparatively  seldom,  to  the  monastery, — more 
frequently  to  God,  and  the  patron  saint,  and  the  abbot, 
— as  frequently  the  abbot  was  omitted,  and  still  more 
frequently  perhaps  the  saint  only  was  mentioned,  and 
he  was  sometimes  actually  addressed  as  a  party  to  the 
conveyance10. 

10  It  may  illustrate  what  I  have  here  said,  and  perhaps  amuse  some 
readers,  if  I  throw  together  a  few  specimens  of  the  different  forms  taken 
at  random  from  the  various  charters,  the  dates  of  which  are  indicated  by 
the  numbers  in  parenthesis — "  Dono  ad  monasterium  sancti  Bonifacii" 
(Jo9)—Schannat.,  Trad.  Fuld.,  p.  8.     "  Trado  ad  sanctum  Bonifatium  et 


76  OFFERING  [NO.  V. 

It  was  very  natural  that  what  was  thus  given  to  the 
saint  should  be  offered  on  his  altar,  for  how  else  was 


ad  monasterium  quod  dicitur  Fulda,"  (759) — Ibid.      "  Tradidit   Deo  et 
sanctissimo  martiri  ejus  Bonifacio,  necnon  et  venerando  Abbati  Eggeberto 
ceterisque  fratribus  sancta?  Fuldensis  Ecclesiae,"  (1058) — Ibid.  p.  255.    In 
these  cases  the  trusteeship  was  fully  understood ;  but  sometimes  it  was 
expressed,  as  by  Poncius,  Count  of  Gervaudan  and  Forez,  in  a  charter  to 
the  church  of  Brioude,  (1010.)     After  saying — "  Reddo  Creatori  omnium 
Domino  Regi  Regum,  et  Domino  dominantium,  necnon  et  cedo  gloriosis- 
simo  Martyri  Juliano,"  &c,  he  describes  the  property,  and  adds — "  Omni- 
potent! Deo  reddo,  Sanctoque  Juliano,  ut,  a  die  praesenti  et  deinceps, 
omnes  res  suprascriptas   sub  tuitione  ac  potestate   sanctissimi   martyris 
Juliani,  et  Canonicorum  ibidem  Christo  militantium,  sint  omni  tempore," 
&c. — Dach.  Spicil.  Hi.  385. — And  an  early  form  from  the  same  Chartulary 
(945)  runs,  "  totum  et  ad  integrum  reddo  Creatori  omnium  Domino,  et 
sub  dominatione  et  potestate  libenti  animo  committo  beati  Juliani,  Canoni- 
corumque  suorum." — Ibid.,  373.     More  frequently,  however,  as  I  have 
said,  it  was  to  God  and  the  patron  saint,  as  in  the  donation  of  Amalric,  to 
the  schools  of  St.  Martin's,  at  Tours  (cir.  843) — "  Offero  Creatori  Deo, 
necnon   Sancto  Martino  Domino  meo  gloriosissimo   quem   toto   affectu 
diligo,"  &c.  —  Mart.  i.   33;   or,    as    Gulfrad,   the   deacon   to   the   same 
church  (cir.  930) — "  Offero,  dono,  trado  atque  confirmo  Omnipotenti  Deo 
necnon  Sancto  Martino  Confessori  suo  egregio,"  &c. — Ibid.,  68.     Or,  the 
saint  only,  as, — "  In  Dei  nomine.     Ego  Theothart  trado  in  elemosinam 
meara  ad  sanctum  Bonifatium  Mancipia  I  III.  id  est  uxorem  Altrati  cum 
tribus  filiis  et  cum  omni  substantia  sua"  (824) — Schannat.,  p.  150.     Of 
this,  innumerable  instances  might  be  given;  but  sometimes  the  matter  was 
put  in  a  still  more  business-like  form  by  addressing  the  saint  as  a  party  to 
the  conveyance,  as — "  Domno  sancto  et  apostolico  Patri  Bonifatio  Episcopo 
ego  Adalberdus;  constat  me  nulli  cogentis  imperio,  sed  proprio  voluntatis 
arbitrio  vobis  vendidisse  et  ita  vendidi  vineam  unam,,,&c.(754) — Schannat., 
p.  I.     The  emperor,  in  the  year  962,  began  a  diploma  thus — "  Ego  Otto 
Dei  gratia  Ira perator  Augustus,  una  cum  Ottone  glorioso  rege  filio  nostro, 
spondemus  atque  promittimus  per  hoc  pactum  confirmationis  nostras  tibi 
beato  Petro  principi  Apostolorum  et  clavigero  regni  coelorum,  et  per  te 
vicario  tuo  Domno  Joanni  summo  Pontifici,"  &c. — Cone.  ix.  643.    Again, 
in  1014, — "Ego  Henricus  Dei  gratia  Imperator  Augustus  spondeo  atque 
promitto  per  hoc  pactum  confirmationis  nostrae,  tibi  beato  Petro,"  &c. — 
Ibid.  813.     Leo  IX.,  about  1050,  began  a  diploma  by  which  he  granted  a 
tenth  of  the  oblations  made  at  the  altar  of  St.  Peter,  to  the  saint  himself — 
(or,  as  we  should  say,  set  apart  that  proportion  for  the  repairs  of  the 
church,)  with  the  following  words,  "  Beate  Petre  Apostole,  ego  Leo  Episco- 
pus  servus  tuus  et  omnium  servorum  Dei,  de  tuis  donis  aliquam  tibi  offero 
particulam,"  &c. — Ibid.  985.   In  fact,  numberless  examples  of  various  forms 
of  speech  might  be  given  ;  and,  without  them, — at  least,  without  some  fami- 
liarity with  the  modes  of  expression  which  were  perpetually  used— it  is  im- 


NO.  V.]  ON    THE    ALTAR.  77 

the  donor  to  present  it  ?  It  was,  I  say,  general,  not 
meaning  that  everv  trivial  donation  was  there  offered, 
but  that,  when  property  of  any  considerable  value  was 
given,  this  was  the  common  course  of  proceeding.  If 
that  property  consisted  of  moveable  chattels,  such  as 
money,  plate,  &c,  it  was  actually  placed  on  the  altar ; 
or,  if  this  could  not  be  conveniently  or  decently  done, 
they  came  as  near  to  it  as  they  could.  For  instance, 
the  rule  of  St.  Benedict  directed  that  when  a  novice 
had  passed  through  the  prescribed  trials,  and  was  to  be 
received,  he  should  present  a  written  petition,  con- 
taining the  promise  which  he  had  already  made ;  and 
that,  at  the  time  of  his  actual  reception,  he  should  lay 
it  on  the  altar — "  De  qua  promissione  sua  faciat  peti- 
tionem  ad  nomen  sanctorum,  quorum  reliquiae  ibi  sunt, 
et  abbatis  prsesentis.  Quam  petitionem  maim  sua 
scribat :  aut  certe  si  non  scit  literas,  alter  ab  eo  rogatus 
scribat :  et  ille  novitius  signum  faciat,  et  manu  sua  earn 
super  altare  ponat."  (c.  58.)  It  was,  in  fact,  offering  him- 
self; and,  as  he  did  it,  he  began  the  116th  verse  of  the 
119th  Psalm — "  Uphold  me  (suscipe)  according  unto  thy 
word,  that  I  may  live ;  and  let  me  not  be  ashamed  of 
my  hope."  To  this  the  congregation  thrice  responded  by 
repeating  the  verse  and  adding  the  Gloria  Patri.  If  a 
child  was  to  be  received,  his  hand  was  wrapped  in  the 
hanging  of  the  altar,  "  and  thus,"  says  the  rule  of  St. 
Benedict,  "  let  them  offer  him."  The  words  are — "  Si 
quis  forte  de  nobilibus  offert  filium  suum  Deo  in  monas- 


possible  to  form  an  idea  of  the  real  spirit  and  character  of  the  times.  With 
this  view,  I  venture  to  add  to  this  long  note  one  or  two  phrases  from  the 
charters  of  the  Abbey  of  St.  Peter,  at  Condom — "  Ego  Amalbinus  .  .  . 
facio  chartam  de  una  pecia  de  vinea  ...  ad  opus  sancti  Petri." — Dach. 
Sp.,  ii.  591.  "In  alio  loco  possidet  sanctus  Petrus  aliam  vineam" — "in 
villa  quae  dicitur  Inzlota  habet  beatus  Petrus  casalem  unum." — Ibid., 
p.  596.  "  Quasdam  nobilissima  fcemina  ....  suprascriptam  ecclesiam 
violenter  beato  arripuit  Petro." — Ibid.,5S5.  "  Molendinum  quod  construxit 
familia  beati  Petri."— Ibid  ,  596. 


78  OFFERING  [NO.  V. 

terio,  si  ipse  puer  minore  setate  est,  parentes  ejus  faeiant 
petitionem  quam  supra  diximus.  Et  cum  oblatione, 
ipsam  petitionem  et  manum  pueri  involvant  in  palla 
altar  is,  et  sic  eum  offerant 1."  (c.  59.)  Thus  the  idea  of 
offering  at  the  altar  was  kept  up  ;  and,  indeed,  though 
I  know  of  no  rule  for  it,  nor  that  it  was  a  usual  prac- 
tice, yet  I  apprehend  that  sometimes  the  matter  was 
carried  still  farther.  The  Abbot  Heriman  (of  whom  I 
have  already  had  occasion  to  speak  in  connexion  with 
the  Abbot  Lupus2,)  tells  us  that,  in  the  year  1055,  his 
mother  took  him  and  his  brothers  to  the  monastery  of 
which  he  was  afterwards  abbot — "  She  went  to  St. 
Martin's,  and  delivered  over  her  sons  to  God,  placing 
the  little  one  in  his  cradle  upon  the  altar,  amidst  the 
tears  of  many  bystanders."  At  the  same  time,  she 
placed  on  the  altar  two  hundred  marks  of  silver,  and 
gave  to  the  monastery  two  mills  and  the  rest  of  her 
property. 

Thus  the  offering  on  the  altar  was  performed,  in 
most  cases,  as  literally  as  could  be ;  and  even  when  the 
property  was  immoveable,  as  houses  or  lands — or  im- 
palpable, as  rights  of  toll  or  tithe,  or  market — it  was 
sometimes  spoken  of  as  if  really  laid  on  the  altar. 
Thus,  in  a  charter  of  about  a.d.  1120,  Hugh  de  Bel- 
mont says,  "  Ego  ipse  Hugo  dewterce  manus  mem  jura- 
mento  firmavi  [I  quote  these  words  as  confirming  my 
statement  at  p.  15,  that  he  who  made  the  sign  of  the 
cross  was  considered  manu  j?irare\  et  insuper  ne  suc- 
cessorum  aliqua  redeat  in  futurum  calumnia,  Deo  et 
Sancto  Petro,  et  Fratribus  Besuensis  ecclesise  quicquid 
est,  vel  erat,  quod  meum  jus  juste  aut  injuste  possede- 
rat  de  hoc  mercato,  fotum  super  a/fare  pom?,  et  ipsum 


1  See  an    "  Antiqua    Formula  Oblationis    Puerorum  in  Monasteriis," 
IX.  D.  &  If.,  p.  158. 

2  See  p.  52,  54. 


NO.  V.]  OX    THE    ALTAR.  79 

mercatum  clono  donavi 3."  Gertrude  also,  with  her 
daughter  and  son-in-law,  "  obtulerunt  Deo  et  sancto 
Petro  Besuensis  ecclesia?,  super  altare  in  Vetus  vineis 
villa,"  a  moiety  of  a  house,  six  acres  of  land,  and  two 
serfs  named  Tetbert  and  Oltrude  4.  In  such  cases,  I 
need  not  say,  the  property  was  not  really  placed  on  the 
altar;  but  it  is  probable,  and,  indeed,  almost  certain, 
that  either  the  deed  of  gift  or  some  other  symbol  was 
actually  so  placed.  Du  Cange  alone  supplies  an  im- 
mense number  and  variety  of  examples ;  from  which  I 
will  extract  a  few  scraps  by  way  of  farther  illustrating 
this  matter5.  Very  commonly,  especially  in  cases  of 
land,  a  turf  or  a  twig,  or  a  bough  of  a  tree,  was  laid  on 
the  altar,  (obtulit  super  altare  B.  Petri  per  cespitem — 
propriis  manibus  pra?dictam  oblationem  ramo  et  cespite 
posuerunt  super  altare  beatissimse  Maria?.)  Sometimes 
by  a  knife,  (ipsi  tres  eumdem  cultellum  super  altare 
Dominicum  S.  Nicolai  portaverunt ;)  and  very  fre- 
quently, either  that  it  might  be  preserved  from  being 
stolen  or  from  getting  into  common  use  by  being,  in 
tact,  rendered  useless,  or,  perhaps  also,  that  the  act 
might  be  remembered,  the  knife  was  bent  before  the 
witnesses,  (posuit  super  altare  per  cultellum  in  hujus 
rei  memoriam  plicatum — posito  super  altare  pra?scripti 
Confessoris  cultello  incurvato,)  and,  in  some  cases,  it 
Beemfl  to  have  been  broken,  as  Fulk,  Count  of  Anjou, 
in  a.d.  1096,  in  a  charter  giving  a  forest,  says,  "Super 
altare  Sancti  Nicolai  ipsam  chartam  pono,  et  cum  cul- 
tello Roberti  Monachi  quern  ante  ipsum  altare  frango, 
cum  eadem  charta  donum  supradictae  forestse  concedens 
pono6."     Very   commonly  a  book,  either  merely  be- 


3  Chron.  Besuen.  ap.  Dach.  Spicil.,  torn.  ii.  p.  452. 

4  Ibid.,  p  441. 

'  Those  examples  which  are  in  parenthesis  may  be  found  under  the 
word  Inveatitura. 

0  Brevic.  S.  Nic.  Andeg.,  p.  30. 


80  OFFERING    ON    THE    ALTAR.  [NO.  V. 

cause  books  were  at  hand,  or  perhaps  also  because  the 
books  belonging  to  the  altar  might  be  supposed  to  give 
a  greater  degree  of  solemnity  to  the  act,  (has  omnes 

elemosynas cum  libro  super  altare  posuerunt 

— cum  libro  missali  earn  super  altare  ibidem  obtulerunt 
— de  hoc  dono  revestivit  Quirmarhocus  et  duo  filii  ejus, 
Gradelonem  Monachum  S.  Nicholai  in  ecclesia  S.  Petri 
Namnetensis,  et  osculati  sunt  eum  de  hac  donatione 
per  fidem,  librum  quoque  quo  revestierunt  monachum 
posuerunt  pro  signo  super  altare  S.  Petri.)  It  was  not, 
however,  necessary  that  it  should  be  one  of  the  service 
books ;  for  I  find  in  a  charter  giving  to  the  church  of 
Beze,  already  repeatedly  mentioned,  "  quinque  homines, 
tres  mares,  et  duas  foeminas,"  that  the  donor  "  propria 
manu  donum  roboravit  super  altare  per  librum  qui 
vocatur  Regula  S.  Benedicti,  coram  multis  testibus  7." 
In  short,  it  might  be  by  anything — by  a  glove,  or  a 
girdle,  or  a  candlestick,  or  a  purse,  or  a  spoon,  or  what- 
ever came  to  hand, — per  wantonem,  per  wasonem,  super 
altare  posui — candelabro  pro  more  illius  temporis  (12 
saec.)  super  altare  posito — super  altare  ipsius  ecclesia? 
per  eleemosynariam  [a  beautiful  name  for  a  purse] 
meam,  lapidem  berillum  intus  habentem,  propria  manu 
imposui — donum  decimae  quam  habebat  apud  Atheiam 
posuit  super  altare  per  cochlear  de  turibulo — accipiens 
in  manibus  particulam  marmorei  lapidis,  quae  ibi  forte 
reperta  est,  venit  cum  ea  ante  altare  et  tenentes  omnes 

simul obtulerunt  earn  super  altare. 

Surely  these  instances  are  sufficient  to  shew  the 
absurdity  of  making  it  a  wonder  that  books  should  be 
sometimes  offered  on  the  altar  of  churches  to  which 
they  were  presented,  as  if  other  things  were  not  so 
offered,  and  as  if  it  arose  from  their  great  rarity,  and 
the  mere  circumstance  that  they  were  books ;    while 


7  II.  Dach.  Spirit.,  p.  442. 


NO.  VI.]  THE    GOLDSMITH.  81 

the  simple  fact  is,  that  the  church  and  the  cloister 
were,  in  all  ages,  the  places  where  books  were  kept, 
and  made,  and  copied,  and  from  whence  they  were 
issued  to  the  rest  of  the  world ;  as,  indeed,  Robertson 
had  just  admitted  in  terms  which  would  scarcely  allow 
his  readers  to  believe  it  possible  that  anybody,  out  of  a 
church  or  monastery,  should  have  any  book  to  present. 


No.  VI. 


"  Assem  para,  et  accipe  auream  fabulam  :  fabulas  immo,  nam  me  priorum 
nova  admonuit." — Plinius. 

Once  upon  a  time,  there  was  a  certain  king  who  took 
it  into  his  head  to  have  a  throne,  or  a  chair,  or  a  sad- 
dle, of  some  peculiar  pattern,  which,  as  far  as  I  know, 
has  never  been  described  8 ;  but  whatever  it  might  be, 
he  could  find  no  artificer  who  would  undertake  to  exe- 
cute his  conceptions. 


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

G 


82  THE    GOLDSMITH.  [NO.  VI. 

Now  it  so  happened  that  shortly  before  this  time,  a 
young  artist  had  come  to  the  place  where  the  king- 
held  his  court.  He  had  been  brought  up,  and  for 
some  years  employed,  by  an  eminent  goldsmith,  who 
was  master  of  the  mint  in  what  might  then  be  called 
another  country.  I  do  not  find  any  reason  assigned 
for  this  migration  of  the  young  workman,  who  perhaps 
only  went  (like  the  mechanics  of  a  great  part  of  Europe 
even  now)  on  a  wanderschaft,  to  acquire  more  perfect 
knowledge  of  his  art.  He  seems,  however,  to  have  left 
home  with  a  good  character,  as  one  wTho  was  loved  and 
respected  by  those  among  whom  he  lived,  not  only  for 
extraordinary  skill  as  a  workman,  but  for  the  simplicity 
of  his  manners,  and  his  strict  and  regular  piety.  Whe- 
ther he  owed  it  to  his  professional  skill,  or  to  his  cha- 
racter, or  to  some  introduction  which  is  not  recorded,  I 
do  not  know  ;  but  in  a  few  days  after  his  arrival  at  the 
place  where  the  court  was,  he  was  taken  under  the 
patronage  of  the  king's  treasurer  ;  under  whose  protec- 
tion he  set  to  work  at  his  business,  and  soon  made 
friends  of  all  around  him.  The  treasurer  was  naturally 
consulted  by  his  royal  master  on  the  golden  project 
which  filled  his  mind  ;  and  he,  as  naturally,  thought  of 
the  young  stranger.  He  conferred  with  him,  and  re- 
ported to  the  king  that  he  had  found  an  artist  who 
would  undertake  the  business. 

The  king  was  delighted  ;  and  gave  an  order  to  the 
treasurer  for  an  ample  quantity  of  gold,  which  he 
faithfully  delivered  to  the  goldsmith,  who  immediately 
set  to  work.  He  wrought  with  great  diligence,  and 
with  such  ingenuity  and  honesty  that,  from  the  mate- 
rials which  he  received  for  one  saddle,  he  made  two. 
This,  though  apparently  impossible,  he  was  able  to  do, 
because  he  not  only  used  the  materials  very  skilfully, 
but  abstained  from  the  common  practice  of  cheating 
under  pretence  of  waste  occasioned  by  cutting,   filing, 


NO.  VI.]  THE    GOLDSMITH.  83 

and  melting.  When  he  had  completed  them,  he  took 
one  of  the  saddles  to  the  king,  who  was  filled  with 
admiration.  He  praised  the  elegance  of  the  work,  and 
ordered  a  suitable  reward  to  be  given  to  the  artist ; 
who  thereupon  brought  forth  the  other  saddle,  and  told 
his  majesty  that  he  had  thought  it  better  to  make  up 
what  was  over  in  that  manner  than  to  waste  it.  The 
king  was  astonished,  and,  at  first,  incredulous  ;  but, 
finding  that  he  had  really  made  both  saddles  from  the 
materials  delivered  to  him  for  one,  he  not  only  praised 
his  skill,  but  assured  him  that  he  should  from  thence- 
forth consider  him  worthy  of  confidence  in  greater 
matters.  In  fact,  this  was  the  first  step  of  his  advance- 
ment at  court ;  and,  from  that  time  forward,  he  not 
only  rose  to  the  highest  eminence  in  his  art,  but 
increased  in  favour  with  the  king  and  his  nobles.  In  a 
word,  he  seems  to  have  been  in  much  the  same  circum- 
stances as  those  of  George  Heriot  at  the  court  of  our 
James,  and  to  have  enjoyed  the  same  personal  favour, 
or  perhaps  I  should  say,  royal  friendship. 

It  appears  to  have  been  soon  after  this,  and  it  was 
probably  an  occasion  of  his  being  appointed  to  some 
confidential  situation,  or  employed  in  some  business  of 
state,  that  he  was  required  to  take  an  oath  on  the  relics 
of  the  saints  in  the  presence  of  his  sovereign.  "  I  do 
not  know  how  it  happened,"  says  his  friend  and  biogra- 
pher, "  that  I  was  present  at  the  time  ;  but  it  may  be 
naturally  supposed  that  I  was  likely  to  be  there  in  the 
way  of  my  duty,  for  I  was  brought  up  in  my  childhood 
at  that  king's  court ;"  and  he  proceeds  to  relate  that 
the  goldsmith  respectfully,  but  firmly,  refused  to  comply 
with  the  requisition9.     His  majesty  was  urgent;  and 


9  "Divinura  intuitum  verens,"  says  his  biographer.  I  really  do  not 
understand  it ;  or  know  how  far  a  modern  writer  may  be  correct  in  say- 
ing that  his  reluctance  arose  from  the  fear  of  taking  what  he  considered 
as  an  unnecessary  oath.     Indeed  I  can  hardly  suppose  that  to  have  been 

(;  2 


84  THE    GOLDSMITH.  [XO.  VI. 

the  poor  goldsmith,  seeing  no  alternative  but  to  disobey 
either  God  or  the  king,  (and  each  was  considered  a  sin 
in  those  days,)  burst  into  tears.  The  king  had  the  good 
sense  to  give  way — to  speak  to  him  in  a  kind  and 
soothing  manner — and  to  dismiss  him  with  a  cheerful 
countenance,  and  an  assurance  that  he  should  feel  more 
confidence  in  him  than  if  he  had  sworn  all  sorts  of 
oaths — "  pollicens  se  plus  eum  ex  hoc  jam  crediturum 
quam  si  multimoda  tunc  dedisset  juramenta." 

Shortly  after  this,  he  seems  to  have  entered  on  a 
more  strictly  religious  life,  which  he  commenced  by  a 
general  confession  of  his  sins,  and  a  course  of  great 
austerity.  "  Having  arrived,"  says  his  biographer,  "  at 
the  age  of  full  maturity,  he  desired  to  manifest  himself 
as  a  vessel  sanctified  for  the  service  of  God ;"  and  he 
adds,  that  "  he  began  stoutlv  to  resist  the  striving  of 
the  flesh  by  the  fervour  of  the  Spirit,"  that  is,  according 
to  the  apostle,  in  labours,  in  watchings,  in  fastings,  in 
chastity,  in  much  patience,  and  in  charity  unfeigned  ; 
for  in  opposition  to  the  present  desires  of  the  flesh,  he 
set  before  him  the  fires  of  future  punishment,  and  the 
consideration  of  the  fire  of  hell  kept  out  the  heat  of 
concupiscence.  He  prayed  without  ceasing  for  hea- 
venly gifts,  and  offered  his  supplications  to  God  by  day 
and  by  night,  frequently  repeating  from  the  book  of 
Job — "  I  would  seek  unto  God,  and  unto  God  would 
I  commit  my  cause,  which  doeth  great  things  and 
unsearchable ;  marvellous  things  without  number  .... 
to  set  up  on  high  those  that  be  low ;  that  those  which 


the  case  ;  and  still  less  that  his  reluctance  proceeded  (as  has  been  sug- 
gested) from  a  superstitious  dread  of  meddling  with  relics.  To  this,  I 
presume,  his  business  must  have  accustomed  him  ;  but  I  notice  the  mat- 
ter because  I  have  been  led,  by  other  circumstances,  to  suppose  that  there 
have  been  persons  in  every  age  who  doubted  of  the  lawfulness  of  oaths  in 
general ;  and  it  seems  not  improbable  that  he  may  have  been  one  of 
them. 


NO.  VI.]  THE    GOLDSMITH.  85 

mourn  may  be  exalted  to  safety  '."  He  restricted  him- 
self from  fulness  of  bread  that  he  might  gain  the  bread 
of  heaven.  His  face,  indeed,  was  pale  with  fasting,  his 
body  dry  and  withered  ;  but  his  mind  glowed  with  ever- 
increasing  love  of  his  heavenly  country.  The  consi- 
deration of  more  heavy  evils  made  him  bear  light 
afflictions  with  patience  ;  for,  habitually  looking  forward 
to  the  end  of  his  present  life,  he  feared  the  future  sen- 
tence of  God,  and  his  tremendous  judgment,  kno wing- 
that  it  is  written,  "  Happy  is  the  man  that  feareth 
alway,"  (Prov.  xxviii.  14,)  and  that  of  the  apostle, 
"  Work  out  your  own  salvation  with  fear  and  trem- 
bling." (Philip,  ii.  12.)  Also  that  saying  of  Job,  "For 
I  have  alway  feared  God  like  as  the  waves  swelling 
over  me."  (c.  xxxi.  23  2.)  By  night  he  would  lie  at  the 
feet  of  his  Lord,  smiting  his  breast  with  his  hands,  and 
watering  his  cheeks  with  tears  ;  and  with  eyes  uplifted 
and  suppressed  sighs  did  he  look  to  Him  whom  he 
feared  to  have  offended — and  many  a  time  did  he 
repeat,  "  Against  thee  only  have  I  sinned" — "  have 
mercy  upon  me  according  to  thy  lovingkindness," 
(Ps.  Ii.  4,  1 ;)  and  that  of  Job,  "  O  remember  that  my 
life  is  wind,"  (viii.  7,)  and  "let  me  alone,  for  my  days 
are  vanity,"  (17;)  and,  being  as  it  were  out  of  himself, 
he  pictured  to  his  own  mind  that  which  eye  hath  not 
Been,  nor  ear  heard,  nor  hath  entered  into  the  heart  of 
man,  but  which  God  hath  prepared  for  those  who  love 
Him. 

Whatever  may  be  my  motive  for  running  into  this 
Ntory,  it  certainly  is  not  to  set  up  the  goldsmith  as  a 
perfect  model  of  doctrine  and  practice.  If  the  reader 
BQOilld  think  him  foolish,  or  pharisaical,  or  heterodox. 


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

"  "  Semper  enim  quasi  tumentes  super  me  rluctus  timui  Dominum. '' 


86  THE    GOLDSMITH.  [NO.  VI. 

it  is  no  fault  of  mine — at  least  if  I  succeed  in  what  is 
really  my  wish,  and  faithfully  repeat  an  old  story.  I 
do  not  want  to  conceal  that  the  goldsmith's  religion — 
for  I  cannot  help  thinking  that  he  had  some — was 
mixed  with  superstition.  He  had  relics  hanging  up  in 
his  chamber,  and  he  saw  and  smelt,  or  said  (and  I  really 
believe  thought)  that  he  saw  and  smelt,  a  fragrant 
balsam  distilling  from  them ;  and  he  took  this  to  be  an 
answer  to  the  earnest  and  fervent  prayer  which  he  had 
poured  forth  beneath  them,  that  God  would  vouchsafe 
to  give  him  some  sign  that  his  repentance  was  accepted. 
"  Remembering  his  prayer,"  says  his  biographer,  "  and 
utterly  astonished  at  the  goodness  of  the  divine  bounty, 
with  deep  groaning  from  his  inmost  soul,  he  blessed 
Christ  the  faithful  rewarder,  who  hath  never  forsaken 
those  who  have  trusted  in  Him.  This,  therefore,  was 
the  beginning  of  his  goodness,  or  rather  of  Almighty 
God's,  from  whom  all  derive  power  for  all  things" — 
hoc  ergo  fuit  initium  virtutum  ejus,  imo  omnipotentis 
Dei,  per  quern  omnes  omnia  possunt. 

The  reader  is  not,  however,  to  suppose  that  the  artist, 
and  the  man  of  business  and  active  benevolence,  was 
lost  in  the  ascetic.  The  goldsmith,  it  is  true,  came  to 
have  a  very  monkish  appearance,  and  was  commonly 
to  be  seen  in  very  mean  clothes,  with  a  rope  for  his 
girdle.  His  biographer  confesses  that  when  he  first 
came  to  court,  he  did,  indeed,  somewhat  ruffle  it  in 
the  bravery  of  silk,  and  gold,  and  gems ;  but  even  then, 
adds  this  bosom  friend,  who  was  in  all  his  secrets,  and 
who  was,  as  I  have  said,  brought  up  at  the  court — who 
was,  in  fact,  a  little  scion  of  nobility,  and  induced  by 
his  admiration  of  the  goldsmith  to  embrace  a  religious 
life,  and  who,  with  his  brother,  became,  as  he  tells  us, 
one  heart  and  one  soul  with  him — even  then,  says  his 
biographer,  his  finery  concealed  a  hair  shirt.  Still, 
however,  though  his  finery  was  laid  aside,  and  his  dress 


NO.  VI.]  THE    GOLDSMITH.  87 

and  manners  approached  to  the  monastic,  he  was  not 
less  diligent  in  business  than  fervent  in  spirit.  He 
wrought  incessantly  with  his  own  hands  at  his  trade, 
with  a  book  open  before  him,  having,  it  seems,  con- 
structed for  this  purpose  a  sort  of  revolving  desk,  by 
means  of  which  he  could  bring  before  him  a  number  of 
books  in  succession 3 ;  and  moreover,  though  a  working 
man,  and  a  reading  man,  and  a  man  high  in  office  and 
in  court  favour,  he  appears  to  have  been  always  ready 
for,  and  constantly  engaged  in,  works  of  active  bene- 
volence. 

It  is  not  my  present  business  to  enter  into  all  the 
details  of  the  goldsmith's  life ;  or  to  tell  how  the  favour 
and  confidence  of  his  first  royal  master  was  continued 
by  his  son  and  successor.  I  pass  over  the  accounts 
which  his  biographer  gives  of  the  favours  which  his 
sovereign  heaped  upon  him,  and  which  he  so  freely 
bestowed  in  acts  of  charity,  that,  if  a  stranger  inquired 


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


88  THE    GOLDSMITH.  [XO.  VI. 

for  him,  (and  what  stranger  came  to  that  city  who  did 
not  ?)  the  natural  answer  was,  "  Go  into  such  a  quar- 
ter, and  where  you  see  a  crowd  of  poor  people  you  will 
find  him."  It  might  be  imagined  that  such  lavish 
bounty  was  sufficient  to  exhaust  even  all  the  means 
which  could  be  obtained  from  an  extensive  business 
and  from  royal  munificence;  though  the  king  seldom 
refused  him  any  request,  not  so  much,  I  am  afraid, 
from  any  real  zeal  for  religion  as  from  an  hereditary 
attachment  to  the  goldsmith,  and  because  he  knew 
that  in  giving  him  anything  he  was  conferring  a  bene- 
fit, not  on  one,  but  on  many.  But,  in  fact,  the  gold- 
smith had  other  and,  I  suppose,  much  greater  expenses. 
One  of  these  arose  from  what  his  time  and  circum- 
stances rendered  a  very  obvious  Christian  duty.  His 
mode  of  performing  it  might  now  be  considered  singu- 
lar and  unwise ;  and  perhaps,  as  it  was  not  adopted  by 
some  of  those  who  have,  in  modern  times,  felt  most 
strongly  (or,  at  least,  talked  and  written  most  fiercely,) 
about  the  abolition  of  slavery,  it  may  be  liable  to  serious 
objections,  which  I  do  not  perceive.  To  me,  a  very 
poor  judge  in  such  matters,  and  perhaps  somewhat  pre- 
judiced, it  seems  that  his  plan,  whatever  faults  it  might 
have,  was  the  most  simple,  certain,  and  expeditious — 
he  put  his  hand  in  his  pocket,  and  paid  the  price  of 
redemption.  It  wras  not  the  grandest  way  of  doing  the 
thing ;  but  he  lived  in  a  dark  age,  when,  even  if  the 
thing  itself  could  have  been  successfully  carried  on,  the 
collateral  benefits  of  philanthropy  and  political  agita- 
tion were  little  understood.  Right  or  wrong,  however, 
his  biographer  tells  us  that  when  he  heard  of  a  sale  of 
slaves,  he  set  off  immediately,  and  bought  as  many  as 
twenty  or  thirty,  or  even  fifty  or  an  hundred  at  a  time. 
When  he  had  got  them,  the  next  business  was  to  carry 
them  before  the  king,  and  set  them  at  full  liberty  witli 
all  the   forms  of  law.     When  they  had  thus  become 


NO.  VI.]  THE    GOLDSMITH.  89 

their  own  masters,  lie  suggested  to  them  three  courses, 
and  helped  them  to  take  which  they  pleased,  if  they 
chose  to  take  either.  In  the  first  place,  if  they  chose 
to  return  home,  he  was  ready  to  give  them  all  the 
assistance  in  his  power, — secondly,  any  who  wished  to 
remain  with  him,  he  willingly  allowed  to  do  so  ;  and  it 
was  rather  on  the  footing  of  brethren  than  of  servants, 
— thirdly,  if  he  could  persuade  them  to  become  monks, 
he  treated  them  with  great  respect,  honoured  them  as 
a  class  superior  to  that  to  which  he  belonged,  supplied 
them  with  clothes,  and  all  other  necessaries,  sent  them 
to  different  monasteries,  and  took  a  great  deal  of  care 
of  them. 

All  this  was,  no  doubt,  very  expensive  ;  but  it  was 
not  all.  He  asked  the  king  to  give  him  a  certain  town 
that  he  might  there  build  a  ladder  by  which  they  might 
both  get  to  heaven.  His  majesty  granted  it  at  once ; 
and  he  built  a  monastery  capable  of  receiving  a  hun- 
dred and  fifty  monks.  He  spent  upon  it  "  all  that  he 
had,  all  that  he  could  get  from  the  king,  all  that  he 
could  honestly  come  by  in  any  way,  and  all  that  the 
great  were  willing  to  give."  His  biographer  says, 
"  You  might  see  waggons  heavily  laden  with  vessels  of 
brass  and  wood  for  all  purposes,  bedding,  table-linen,  a 
great  number  of  religious  books,  and,  indeed,  every 
thing  necessary  for  the  monastery;  in  so  much  that 
some  evil-minded  persons  were  moved  to  envy 4 ;"  and, 
having  himself  inspected  the  place,  he  speaks  in  high 
terms  of  the  order  and  discipline  maintained  in  it.    He 

4  Ipse  vero  tanta  se  devotione,  tantoque  amore  eodem  loco  diffudit,  ut 
quidquid,  habere  potuisset,  ut  quidquid  Regi  auferre,  quidquid  digne 
comparare,  quidquid  etiam  gratuito  ei  a  potentibus  largitum  esset,  cuncta 
praedicto  loco  destinaret.  Videres  plaustra  vehere  onera  copiosa  vascula 
utique  usibus  necessaria,  aerea  simul  et  lignea :  vestimenta  etiam  lectuaria 
ac  linteamiua  mensalia,  necnon  et  volumina  sacrarum  scripturarwn  quam- 
plurima,  sed  et  omnia  quae  erant  Monasterii  usibus  necessaria,  in  tantum 
ut  pravi  quique  ingenti  ex  hoc  succenderentur  invidia. 


90  the  goldsmith's  [no.  VI. 

adds,  "  There  is  now  a  great  company  there,  adorned 
with  all  the  flowers  of  various  graces.  There  are  also 
many  artificers  skilled  in  divers  arts,  who,  being  per- 
fected in  the  fear  of  Christ,  are  always  prepared  to  yield 
ready  obedience.  No  man  there  claims  anything  as 
his  own ;  but  (as  we  read  in  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles) 
all  things  are,  in  all  respects,  common.  And  the  place 
is  so  fertile  and  so  beautiful  that  any  body  going  there, 
amidst  its  wide  orchards  and  pleasant  gardens,  might 
well  exclaim,  '  How  goodly  are  thy  tents,  O  Jacob, 
and  thy  tabernacles,  O  Israel !  like  shady  woods,  as 
cedar  trees  beside  the  waters,  as  gardens  by  the  river 
side.'  It  is  of  such  that  Solomon  has  said,  '  The  habi- 
tations of  the  righteous  shall  be  blessed  5 ;"'  and  he 
goes  on  to  describe  how  it  was  surrounded  by  an 
enclosure  (not,  indeed,  a  stone  wall,  but  a  bank,  with 
hedge  and  ditch — sphserico  muro,  non  quidem  lapideo ; 
sed  fossatum  sepe  munitum),  about  a  mile  and  a  quar- 
ter in  circumference ;  and  how  the  excellent  river  on 
which  it  was  situated,  with  all  the  beauties  of  wood, 
water,  and  precipice,  combined  (perhaps  one  should  say 
contrasted)  with  the  enclosure  of  the  monastery,  entirely 
filled  with  fruit-bearing  trees,  might  almost  make  the 
spectator  fancy  that  he  saw  paradise  before  him. 

"  Yes,  the  monks  took  care  to  make  themselves 
comfortable."  No  doubt  they  did ;  and  I  dare  say,  if 
the  truth  were  known,  the  reader  does  the  same ;  and 
I  believe  that,  if  he  observes  the  course  of  things,  he 
will  find  that  no  man  can  rationally  seek  his  own  com- 
fort without  promoting  the  comfort  of  others.  At  any 
rate,  I  restrain  myself  with  difficulty  from  expressing  a 
very  familiar  train  of  thought,  now  excited  by  this  peep 
at  the  enclosed  monastery.  Very  often  it  has  been 
awakened  ;  and  I  know  of  nothing  in  the  history  of  the 

Tj  Prov.  iii.  33. 


NO.  VI.]  FOREMAN.  91 

dark  ages  more  admirable  and  adorable  than  the  visible 
Providence  of  God  over-ruling  not  only  the  better 
sense  and  feelings,  but  even  the  weakness  and  whims, 
the  folly,  the  fanaticism,  the  sin,  of  the  monks,  and 
actually  making  their  infirmities  and  vices  the  means 
of  spreading  not  only  religion,  but  civilization ;  and 
setting  forth  in  a  dark  and  desolate  age,  in  lands 
ravaged  by  fire  and  sword,  among  men  wild  and  turbu- 
lent and  cruel — setting  forth,  in  characters  of  peace 
and  sunshine,  the  great  truth  that  godliness  hath  the 
promise  of  this  life  as  well  as  of  that  to  come.  I  hope, 
some  time  or  other,  to  shew  this,  with  no  other  diffi- 
culty than  what  arises  from  selecting  out  of  the  abun- 
dant materials  which  are  furnished  by  monastic  history. 
To  return,  therefore,  to  the  goldsmith ;  and  it  will 
be  a  very  natural  mode  of  transition  if  I  say  a  few 
words  of  his  foreman — at  least  I  suppose  him  to  have 
held  that  rank  from  his  being  placed  first  in  the  list  of 
the  goldsmith's  workmen,  which  his  biographer  gives, 
and  his  stating  that  he  used  to  sit  opposite  his  master 
at  work,  as  may  be  seen  in  a  foregoing  note.  He  was 
a  foreigner  of  good  family,  who  had  been  brought  away 
from  his  own  country  in  his  childhood,  and  sold  as  a 
slave.  Happily  for  him,  he  was  purchased  by  the  gold- 
smith, who  sent  him  to  this  new  monastery  which  he 
had  founded,  to  be  educated,  and  then  took  him  back, 
and  they  worked  and  read  together 6.    So  matters  went 


6  "  Quem  vir  sanctus" — that  is,  the  abbot  (says  the  biographer  of  the 
foreman)  "  sicut  in  mandatis  acceperat,  cum  omni  diligentia  sub  pietatis 
studio  enutrivit,  sacris  Uteris  erudivit,  evangelicis  atque  apostolicis  docu- 
ments roboravit ;"  and  then  sent  him  back  to  his  master,  to  work  at  his 
business.  He  kept  him  constantly  about  his  person  ;  and  the  young 
captive  M  alter  Elisaeus,  Eliae  felix  virtutum  ejus  heres  et  successor,  Deo 
donante  futurus  famulabatur  obsequiis.  Fabricabant  ambo  simul  inde- 
fesse  apertos  prae  ocellis  semper  codices  habentes,  geminum  inde  fructum 
capientes,  ut  videlicet  manus  usibus  hominum,  mentes  vero  usibus  manci- 
parentur  divinis." 


92  the  goldsmith's  [no.  VI. 

on,  until  the  goldsmith  gave  up  business ;  and  then 
what  could  the  foreman  do  but  go  back  to  the  scene  of 
his  youth,  and  turn  monk  ?  At  least  he  did  so ;  and, 
by  direction  of  his  old  master,  he  became  a  priest  also. 
Whether  it  was  out  of  respect  to  their  founder,  or 
whether  the  same  qualities  which  had  endeared  him  to 
his  master  won  the  affection  and  respect  of  the  abbot 
and  monks,  or  whether  it  was  commanded  by  the  mild 
virtues  and  rigid  austerities  which  had  become  habitual 
to  him,  I  cannot  tell ;  but,  in  fact,  he  received  so  much 
attention  and  honour  that  he  did  not  know  what  to  do 
with  himself  in  the  monastery7,  and  seems  to  have 
remained  there  only  out  of  respect  for  his  benefactor ; 
for,  as  soon  as  ever  he  heard  of  his  death,  he  fairly  ran 
away.  Two  texts  of  Scripture  seem  to  have  harassed 
his  mind,  and  made  him  fear  lest  in  his  popularity  with 
men  he  should  lose  the  favour  of  God  8 — "  They  that 
please  men ;  they  are  ashamed  because  God  hath 
despised  them"  (Ps.  liii.  5) ;  and  the  words  of  the 
Apostle — "  If  I  yet  pleased  men  I  should  not  be  the 
servant  of  Christ."  (Gal.  i.  10.)  He  wandered  alone 
through  desert  places  until  he  found  a  remote,  and 
almost  inaccessible,  spot  among  the  rocks,  which  he 
could  only  approach  on  his  hands  and  knees,  but  which 
offered  the  necessary  supply  of  wild  fruits  and  water. 
"  There  he  lived,"  says  his  biographer,  "  always  singing 
in  his  heart  that  of  David — *  Oh  that  I  had  wings  like 
a  dove ;  for  then  would  I  fly  away,  and  be  at  rest.  Lo  ! 
then  would  I  wander  afar  off,  and  remain  in  the  wilder- 
ness 9 ' — '  As  the  hart  panteth  after  the  water  brooks,  so 
panteth  my  soul  after  thee,  O  God.     My  soul  thirsteth 


7  Whether  they  made  him  abbot  I  do  not  know.     Who  is  to  decide 
when  Mabillon  and  the  Bollandists  disagree  ? 

8  "  Qui  hominibus  placent  confusi  sunt  quoniam  Deus  sprevit  eos." — 
Vulg. 

»  Ps.  lv.  G. 


NO.  VI.]  FOREMAN.  93 

for  God,  for  the  living  God :  when  shall  I  come  and 
appear  before  God  V  For  he  was  such  a  man  as  Jere- 
miah describes  when  he  says,  *  It  is  good  for  a  man  that 
he  bear  the  yoke  in  his  youth.  He  sitteth  alone  and 
keepeth  silence,  because  he  hath  borne  it  upon  him ] ;'  and 
elsewhere,  'I  sat  alone  because  of  thy  hand,  for  thou  hast 
filled  me  with  indignation2.'"  Knowing,  however,  the 
dangers  of  idleness,  and  the  apostolic  injunction,  that 
he  who  would  not  work  should  not  eat,  he  employed 
himself  in  cultivating  the  earth ;  and  soon  found  far- 
ther occupation  in  preaching  to  the  multitudes  who 
came  to  visit  him,  and  to  seek  his  prayers  and  instruc- 
tion. I  believe  that  only  one  of  his  sermons  is  in  print. 
That  it  is  quite  original  I  do  not  vouch ;  neither 
will  I  take  upon  me  to  say  that  it  contains  all  and 
omits  nothing  that  it  should  contain,  for  that  is  more 
than  I  can  say  of  any  sermon  that  I  ever  saw  or  heard ; 
but  I  am  not  writing  controversially,  and  merely  wish, 
on  this  occasion,  to  tell  the  reader,  as  a  matter  of  fact, 
what  he  did  say ;  and  according  to  the  specimen  given 
by  his  biographer,  it  was  as  follows : — "  Brethren,  hear 
what  I  say  with  attention ;  and  sedulously  meditate  on 
it  in  your  hearts.  God  the  Father,  and  his  Son  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  who  gave  his  precious  blood  for  us, 
you  must  love  with  all  your  soul,  and  with  all  your 
mind.  Keep  your  hearts  clean  from  wicked  and  im- 
pure thoughts;  maintain  brotherly  love  among  your- 
selves, and  love  not  the  things  that  are  in  the  world. 
Do  not  think  about  what  you  have,  but  what  you  are. 
Do  you  desire  to  hear  what  you  are  ?  The  prophet  tells 
you,  saying — 'All  flesh  is  grass;  all  the  goodliness 
thereof  as  the  flower  of  the  field  V  Consider  how  short 
the  present  life  is ;  always  fearing,  have  the  day  of 
judgment  before  your  eyes.     While  there  is  opportu- 

1   Lam.  iii.  27,  28.  -  Jer.  xv.  17.  1>.  xl.  G. 


94  the  goldsmith's  [no.  VI. 

nity,  redeem  your  sins  by  alms  and  good  works."  Such, 
says  his  biographer,  were  his  discourses ;  and  if  the 
reader  cannot  agree  with  him  in  adding,  "  sermo  ejus 
mellifluus  sufficienti  sale  erat  conditus,"  he  may  yet 
join  me  in  hoping  that  he  spoke  truly  in  saying,  that 
"  no  corrupt  or  idle  discourse  at  any  time  proceeded 
out  of  his  mouth ;  never  was  anything  on  his  lips  but 
Christ,  and  peace,  and  mercy." 

As  he  grew  old,  his  thoughts  turned  again  to  the 
monastery  which  he  had  twice  left,  and  he  besought 
the  abbot  to  build  a  little  cell  near  it  in  honour  of  its 
founder,  and  to  let  him  live  there.  The  abbot  accord- 
ingly built  one,  rather  more  than  half  a  mile  from  the 
monastery;  and  there  the  old  man  lived,  constantly 
employed  in  reading  or  praying,  or  some  work  of  Chris- 
tian duty  or  benevolence,  or  some  handicraft,  until  he 
was  ninety-four  years  old.  I  do  not  know  that  he  ever 
pretended  to  work  miracles.  One  of  his  biographers 
gives  them  to  him  by  wholesale;  but  another  account 
is  not  only  very  sparing  on  that  point,  but  relates  an 
anecdote  which  has  quite  an  opposite  aspect.  When 
a  certain  woman,  who  was  grievously  wounded,  went 
to  the  gate  of  the  monastery,  asking  to  see  him,  "he 
would  by  no  means  see  her,  but  sent  her  back  this 
message : — '  Woman,  why  do  you  ask  my  help  ?  I  am 
a  mortal,  and  your  associate  in  infirmity;  but,  if  you 
believe  in  Christ,  whom  I  serve,  go  away  and  pray  to 
God  according  to  your  faith,  and  you  will  be  healed.' 
Immediately  she  went  away  believing ;  and  having 
without  delay  called  on  Jesus,  returned  home  healed." 

To  proceed,  however,  with  our  story.  Up  to  the  point 
at  which  we  digressed  from  the  goldsmith's  affairs,  one 
history  might  have  served  for  master  and  man ;  but 
then  a  great  difference  began.  When  the  servant 
became  a  monk,  the  master  became  a  bishop.  But  I 
ought   to  have  mentioned  several    things  before  this, 

1 


NO.  VI.]  GOD-DAUGHTER.  95 

only  I  write  under  a  constant  dread  of  being  tedious. 
One  hears  so  much  of  "wading-  through" — not  thick 
folios  and  cubical  quartos — but  even  magazine  articles 
on  subjects  more  popular  than  mine,  that  I  am  always 
tempted  to  omit  those  details  which  in  my  own  opinion 
give  interest  to  history,  and  enable  one  to  understand, 
and  remember,  and  use  it.  But  for  this  I  should  have 
told  of  the  opposition  which  the  goldsmith  and  his 
noble  convert  and  biographer,  though  both  laymen, 
made  to  the  simony  which  was  too  prevalent  in  their 
part  of  the  world — how  they  also  opposed  heresy,  and 
drove  it  out  of  the  kingdom  without  personal  injury  to 
the  heretics — and  how  the  goldsmith  converted  a  man- 
sion in  the  capital,  which  his  royal  master  had  given 
him,  into  a  convent  for  three  hundred  nuns,  who  lived 
there  under  the  superintendence  of  an  abbess,  who 
was  very  appropriately  (though,  I  suppose,  accidentally) 
named  A  urea.  She  was  not,  I  believe,  the  daughter  of 
the  goldsmith,  nor  do  I  find  or  suppose  that  he  had  any 
children ;  but  he  is  said  to  have  had  a  god-daughter ; 
and  were  it  not  for  the  reasons  just  mentioned,  I  should 
run  into  a  story  about  her.  As  it  is,  even,  I  cannot 
help  briefly  mentioning  one  or  two  particulars  of  her 
history ;  for  the  truth  of  which,  however,  as  to  matter 
of  fact,  I  by  no  means  vouch.  I  quote  it  for  the  illus- 
tration of  our  subject ;  were  it  a  contemporary  and 
literally  true  story,  it  would  be  worth  our  attention,  or 
indeed  whether  it  were  truth  or  fiction  ;  and  if  it 
belongs  to  a  later  period,  (of  which,  I  suppose,  there 
can  be  no  doubt,)  it  is  still  more  deserving  of  notice. 
It  is  indeed  more  to  our  purpose  to  read  the  romance, 
if  it  be  one,  of  a  writer  of  any  period  within  the  limits 
to  which  the  production  in  question  must  belong  than 
to  learn  the  real  adventures  of  a  young  woman. 

I  pass  over  the  account  of  her  noble  birth,  and  her 
betrothal  in  her  infancy  to  one  of  equal  rank,  and  how 


96  the  goldsmith's  [no.  VI. 

at  a  marriageable  age  she  persuaded  him  lo  accompany 
her  to  Rome ;  and  how,  while  he  was  rambling  about 
to  see  the  rarities  of  the  city,  she  took  the  opportunity 
of  throwing  herself  at  the  pope's  feet,  and  declaring  her 
determination  to  become  a  nun — it  is  sufficient  to  say 
that  she  did  so,  and  that  after  returning  thanks  to  God, 
his  holiness  addressed  her  : — "  '  Of  what  nation  art 
thou,  and  from  what  country  dost  thou  come,  maiden  ? 
And  say  also,  what  is  thy  name,  and  the  creed  of  thy 
people ;  for  I  suppose  thee  to  have  been  born  of  noble 
race,  and  instructed  in  sacred  learning  from  thine 
infancy.'  Whereupon  she,  with  most  serene  mind  and 
countenance,  and  with  downcast  look,  began  : — *  If 
you  inquire,  O  father  and  lord,  concerning  my  nation, 
I  am  a  *  *  *  *  my  name  is  *****  I  was  born  in 
the  district  of  *  *  *  *?  whence  I  came  hither.  I  was 
educated  by  Christian  parents ;  and,  contrary  to  my 
own  will  (and  I  believe  to  the  will  of  God),  I  was 
betrothed  to  a  young  man,  whom  I  give  up,  and  turn 
from,  being  bound  by  the  love  of  Christ,  through  whose 
guidance  and  favour  I  remain  free  from  all  pollution  in 
body  and  mind.  I  devote  myself  to  Him  who  created 
all  things ;  and  that  faith  of  which  you  inquire,  I  keep 
unbroken  to  Him — which  faith,  if  you  really  wish  to 
hear  it,  most  excellent  father,  I  will  rehearse ;  for 
though  I  am  a  barbarian  by  nation,  we,  notwithstand- 
ing, profess  that  true  and  holy  faith  which  was  brought 
to  us  in  the  end  of  time  from  this  holy  apostolical  see 
and  catholic  mother  church.  For  truly,  when  your 
holiness  inquires  after  our  creed,  it  seems  like  Christ's 
asking  water  from  the  Samaritan  woman,  in  that  while 
He  vouchsafed  to  honour  her  with  such  a  discourse, 
He  covertly  insinuated  that  no  nation  could  exclude 
any  one  from  the  faith.  As,  therefore,  we  blush  not 
for  our  creed,  so  we  are  not  confounded  by  reason  of 
our    nation  ;    for    David    commands    that    all    peoples 


NO.  VI.]  GOD-DAUGHTER.  97 

should  clap  their  hands,  and  rejoice  before  God  with 
the  voice  of  praise,  &c.  But  since  we  are  admonished 
by  the  apostolical  injunction  to  give  a  reason  concern- 
ing the  hope  and  charity  that  is  in  us  to  all  who  ask 
us,  I  will  no  longer  delay  to  set  forth  before  your  holi- 
ness, in  few  words,  the  glory  of  our  faith.  We  believe, 
then,  and  confess  a  chief  and  unlimited  (summum  et 
incircumscriptum)  Spirit,  without  beginning  of  time 
or  ending,  to  be  the  one  omnipotent  God;  as  Mdses 
has  said,  '  Hear,  O  Israel,  the  Lord  thy  God  is  one.' 
There  is,  I  say,  one  Father,  unbegotten  ;  one  Son,  his 
only  begotten ;  one  Holy  Spirit,  proceeding  from  both, 
co-eternal  with  the  Father  and  the  Son ;  but  that 
always  the  Father  is  God  ;  the  Son,  God  ;  and  the 
Holy  Ghost,  God  ;  by  whom,  through  whom,  and  in 
whom,  are  all  things,  and  without  whom  nothing  was 
made.  This  tripartite  conjunction,  and  conjunct  divi- 
sion, both  excludes  unity  in  the  persons,  and  produces 
unity  notwithstanding  the  distinction  of  persons.  But 
while  we  believe  in  three  persons,  we  do  not  believe  in 
three  Gods ;  but  we  confess  one  Godhead  in  three  per- 
sons. We  believe  in  a  Holy  Trinity  of  subsistent  per- 
sons ;  but  in  an  unity  as  to  the  nature,  majesty,  and 
substance  of  God.  We,  therefore,  divide  all  that  exists 
into  two  parts ;  and,  except  only  the  Trinity,  all  that 
has  power,  action,  or  motion  in  heaven,  earth,  or  sea, 
we  believe  and  confess  to  be  a  creature,  and  God  the 
only  Creator.  Moreover,  we  believe  that  the  Son  of 
God  was,  in  the  last  times,  conceived  of  the  Holy 
Ghost,  and  born  of  the  Virgin  Mary,  and  took  upon 
him  the  flesh  and  soul  of  human  nature.  In  which 
flesh  we  believe  and  confess  that  he  was  crucified  and 
buried,  and  arose  from  the  dead;  and  that  in  that  same 
flesh,  though  of  another  glory,  after  his  resurrection,  he 
ascended  into  heaven,  from  whence  we  expect  him  to 
conic  as  the  Judge  of  the  quick   and   the  dead.     We 

H 


98  the  goldsmith's  [no.  VI. 

also  confess  an  entire  and  perfect  resurrection  of  our 
flesh  in  which  we  now  live  and  move  in  this  present 
life ;  and  that  in  it  we  shall  either  receive  the  reward 
of  good  things  for  good  actions,  or  sustain  punishment 
for  evil  actions.  Repentance  of  sins  we  confess  with 
the  fullest  faith,  and  receive  as  a  second  grace,  accord- 
ing to  what  the  apostle  says  to  the  Corinthians — '  I  was 
minded  to  come  unto  you  before,  that  ye  might  have  a 
second  benefit 4 '  (secundam  gratiam).  This  is  the  trea- 
sure of  our  faith,  which  we  keep  sealed  with  the  seal  of 
the  creed  of  the  church  which  we  received  in  baptism. 
Thus  before  God  we  believe  with  our  hearts ;  thus 
before  all  men  we  confess  with  our  mouths ;  that  the 
knowledge  of  it  may  give  faith  to  men,  and  that  his 
image  may  bear  testimony  to  God.' " 

Such,  we  are  told,  was  this  virgin's  confession ;  and 
I  have  endeavoured  to  translate  it  as  literally  as  possi- 
ble, without  addition  or  diminution.  Should  any  reader 
observe  that  she  did  not  say  (or,  if  he  pleases,  that  the 
more  modern,  lying,  forging,  legend-maker,  does  not 
make  her  say)  any  thing  about  transubstantiation,  or 
purgatory,  or  prayers  for  the  dead,  or  worshipping  the 
Virgin  Mary,  or  the  saints,  or  relics,  or  indeed  any  of 
the  subjects  with  which  it  might  have  been  supposed 
that  a  candidate  for  the  veil  would  have  entertained 
the  pope  in  a  "barbarous  age"  like  hers,  when  "reli- 
gion lay  expiring  under  a  motley  and  enormous  heap  of 
superstitious  inventions,"  I  cannot  help  it.  Neither 
am  I  concerned  to  explain  to  system-makers  how  it 
was  that  the  great  western  Antichrist,  instead  of  open- 
ing his  "  mouth,  speaking  great  things"  to  blaspheme 
God  and  bis  saints,  should  have  given  utterance  to  the 
prayer  which  followed  her  confession — or,  rather,  the 
benediction  of  her  veil,  and  the  other  habits  which  she 

4  2  Cor.  i.  15. 


NO.  VI.]  GOD-DAUGHTER.  99 

was  to  assume  : — "  '  Look  down,  O  Lord,  on  this  thine 
handmaid,  that  the  purpose  of  holy  virginity  which,  by 
thy  inspiration,  she  hath  formed,  she  may,  under  thy 
governance,  keep.  May  there  be  in  her,  O  Lord,  by 
the  gift  of  thy  Spirit,  a  prudent  modesty,  a  serious  gen- 
tleness, a  chaste  freedom.  May  she  be  fervent  in  cha- 
rity, and  love  nothing  beside  Thee  (extra  te).  May  she 
study  so  to  live  as  that  she  may  deserve  praise  without 
being  ambitious  of  it.  In  thy  fear  may  she  love  Thee 
above  all  things,  and  in  love  may  she  fear  Thee  in  all 
things.  Be  thou,  O  Lord,  her  rejoicing;  thou  her 
comfort  in  sorrow;  thou  her  counsel  in  doubt.  Be 
thou  her  defence  against  injury ;  in  poverty,  abun- 
dance ;  in  fasting,  food ;  in  sickness,  medicine.  What 
she  has  professed,  may  she  keep ;  so  that  she  may  over- 
come the  old  enemy,  and  purify  herself  from  the  defile- 
ment of  sin  ;  that  she  may  be  adorned  with  fruit  an 
hundredfold,  with  virgin  beauty,  and  the  lamps  of  vir- 
tues, and  may  be  counted  worthy  to  join  the  company 
of  the  elect  virgins.'  And  when  they  had  all  answered 
4  Amen,'  the  holy  pontiff,  kissing  the  forehead  of  the 
holy  virgin  #  *  #  *,  dismissed  her  in  peace." 

As  to  all  these  collateral  matters,  however,  I  content 
myself,  for  the  present,  with  noticing  them  more  briefly 
than  I  could  wish.  This  paper  is  already  longer  than 
I  expected  it  to  have  been,  and  than  it  ought  to  be, 
considering  that  it  is  written  in  what  I  hope  the  reader 
considers  the  worst  possible  style — without  any  name 
of  person  or  place,  or  any  date,  or  a  single  reference  to 
any  authority  whatever.  If  he  has  fairly  got  thus  far, 
there  is  perhaps  little  use — I  wish  there  may  be  any 
courtesy — in  telling  him  that  he  might  have  skipped 
it ;  that  it  is  entirely  parenthetical,  and  intended  only 
as  an  introduction  to  another  paper,  in  which  I  hope  to 
explain  why  T  have  written  it,  and  to  excuse  myself 
for  writing  it  in  such  a  manner. 

h  2 


100 


No.   VII. 

"  Vir  bonus  est  quis  ?" — Hor. 

The  goldsmith 5,  as  I  have  already  said,  became  a 
bishop.  It  is  not  very  surprising,  and  some  perhaps 
will  say,  "  Yes,  that  was,  of  course,  what  he  was  aiming 
at."  For  my  own  part  I  should  very  much  doubt  it ; 
at  least,  if  he  desired  a  bishopric,  I  do  not  see  any  rea- 
son to  suppose  that  he  did  so  from  sordid  or  unworthy 
motives.  The  lowest  calculation  (for  the  point  is  dis- 
puted) makes  him  more  than  fifty  years  of  age  when  he 
was  consecrated — of  money  he  seems  to  have  possessed 
unlimited  command — the  love  of  power,  if  he  had  it, 
(though  I  really  know  of  nothing  to  shew  that  he  had,) 
might  have  been  better  gratified  at  court  than  in  his 
diocese,  which  can  scarcely  be  supposed  to  have  con- 
tained such  luxuries  as  the  times  afforded,  and  as  he 
might  have  enjoyed  where  he  was.  There  is,  more- 
over, another  circumstance  to  which  I  cannot  help 
attaching  considerable  importance,  both  as  it  regards 


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


NO.  VII.]  ST.    ELIGIUS.  101 

this  point,  and  as  a  mark  of  his  character  in  general. 
On  the  proposal  being  made,  and  whatever  reluctance 
he  might  feel  being  overcome,  he  insisted  on  a  delay  of 
two  years,  and  during  that  period  he  exercised  the  office 
of  an  ordinary  priest.  From  a  consideration  of  all  these 
circumstances,  I  am  not  inclined  to  believe  that  he  had 
any  flagrant  desire  to  become  a  bishop,  or  was  influ- 
enced by  any  sordid  or  ambitious  motive. 

But,  after  all,  how  much  there  is  in  a  name.  No 
doubt  it  is  correct  to  say  that  he  became  a  bishop  ;  but 
the  real  idea  would  be  much  better  conveyed  by  saying 
that  he  turned  missionary;  and,  forsaking  all  that  the 
world  had  to  offer,  went  to  preach  the  gospel  among 
pagan  barbarians.  In  fact,  having  received  episcopal 
consecration  at  the  same  time  as  his  noble  young  con- 
vert, he  set  off  for  his  diocese,  and  began  to  visit  it 
diligently.  At  first,  we  are  told,  the  people,  sunk  in 
idolatry,  received  him  with  hostility ;  but,  being  gradu- 
ally softened  by  his  preaching,  a  great  part  of  them 
renounced  idolatry,  and  embraced  Christianity. 

But  from  this  point  what  need  is  there  to  pursue  the 
details  of  his  history  ?  The  rest  is  known,  perhaps,  at 
the  antipodes ;  at  least,  from  the  Ohio  to  the  Ganges, 
every  reader  of  popular  books  has  been  told  how  he 
preached.  It  is  really  curious  to  observe  by  what 
apparently  trifling  incidents  people  become  notorious. 
Comparatively  few  persons  take  the  trouble  to  read 
about  Clotaire  and  Dagobert,  and  their  goldsmith,  and 
his  noble  convert  Dado  (or  St.  Owen),  and  his  foreman 
Tillo  or  St.  Theau  the  Saxon,  and  his  god-daughter  St. 
Ilunegundis,  and  the  Abbess  St.  Aurea.  But  what 
reader  of  Robertson's  Charles  the  Fifth,  or  Mosheim's 
History,  or  Jortin's  Remarks,  or  White's  Bampton 
Lectures,  or  other  popular  books  (to  say  nothing  of 
living  writers),  has  not  heard  of  St.  Eligiufl  or  Eloy, 
Bishop  of   Noyon?     And  all  because   Mosheim — the 


102  ROBERTSON    AND  [NO.  VII. 

only  one  of  the  writers  mentioned  who  can  be  sus- 
pected of  knowing  anything  about  him — was  pleased 
to  record  that  he  had  preached  a  bad  sermon,  and  to 
give  a  specimen  of  it.  This  scrap,  as  Dr.  Lingard  has 
truly  said,  "  holds  a  distinguished  place  in  every  invec- 
tive which  has  been  published  against  the  clergy  of 
former  ages ;  and  the  definition  of  a  good  Christian  has 
been  echoed  a  thousand  times  by  the  credulity  of 
writers  and  their  readers6."  Indeed,  the  story  has 
been  so  widely  circulated,  and,  I  apprehend,  so  influen- 
tial,  that  on  coming  to  Robertson's  statement  in  the 
note  next  to  that  on  which  I  have  been  hitherto  com- 
menting, I  cannot  help  wishing  and  endeavouring  to 
put  the'  matter  in  a  truer  light.  Though,  strictly 
speaking,  it  does  not  immediately  relate  to  that  period 
of  which  I  professedly  write,  yet  this  "  hack  story" 
should  be  exposed,  because  many  persons  have  read  it 
without  knowing  or  attending  to  its  date,  and  also 
because  many — perhaps  most — of  those  who  do  know 
its  date,  have  a  general  idea  that  matters,  far  from 
improving,  grew  worse  and  worse  for  some  centuries. 

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


NO.  VII.]  ST.    ELIGIUS.  103 

It  seemed,  however,  desirable  first  to  give  some  account 
of  this  most  unfortunate  bishop,  and  accordingly  I  did 
so  in  the  preceding  number,  in  which  I  ventured  to 
give  his  story  anonymously,  because  I  was  afraid  that 
in  some,  at  least,  I  should  excite  unconquerable  preju- 
dice if  I  mentioned  a  name  which  has  acquired  such 
evil  notoriety  7. 

But  let  us  now  inquire  about  his  preaching.  Robert- 
son had  said  in  his  text : — 

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

A   sad  picture  of  religion   truly,  when   it   compre- 


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


104  ROBERTSON,  MOSHEIM,  [NO.  VII. 

hended  nothing  else  beside  what  was  either  unmeaning, 
or  so  absurd  as  to  disgrace  reason  and  humanity ;  but 
it  is  a  note  on  the  word  "  ceremonies,"  in  the  fore- 
going passage,  with  which  we  are  at  present  concerned ; 
he  begins  it  by  saying — 

"All  the  religious  maxims  and  practices  of  the  dark  ages 
are  a  proof  of  this.  I  shall  produce  one  remarkable  testimony 
in  confirmation  of  it,  from  an  author  canonized  by  the  church 
of  Rome,  S.  Eloy  or  Egidius 8,  Bishop  of  Noyon,  in  the  seventh 
century  ."—(p.  236.) 

But  as  he,  and  everybody  else  I  believe,  was  indebted 
to  Mosheim,  it  may  be  as  well  at  once  to  give  the  ori- 


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


NO.  VII.] 


AND    ST.  ELIGIUS. 


105 


ginal  as  it  stands  in  his  work,  placing  beside  it  the  pas- 
sage as  it  stands  in  Robertson's  work  : — 


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

This,  then,  according  to  Robertson,  is  a  "remark- 
able testimony  in  confirmation"  of  his  assertion  that 
"  all  the  maxims  and  practices  of  the  dark  ages"  are  a 
proof  that  men  "instead  of  aspiring  to  sanctity  and 
virtue,  ....  imagined  that  they  had  satisfied  every 
obligation  of  duty  by  a  scrupulous  observance  of  exter- 


Jlosheim. 
"  Bonus  Christianus  est,  qui 
ad  ecclesiam  frequentius  venit, 
et  oblationem,  quae  in  altari 
Deo  offeratur,  exhibet,  qui  de 
fructibus  suis  non  gustat,  nisi 
prius  Deo  aliquid  offerat,  qui 
quoties  sanctse  solemnitates 
adveniunt,  ante  dies  plures 
castitatem  etiam  cum  propria 
uxore  custodit,  ut  secura  con- 
scientia  ad  Domini  altare  ac- 
cedere  possit,  qui  postremo 
symbolum  vel  orationem  Do- 
minicam  memoriter  tenet.  - 
-  -  Redimite  animas  vestras 
de  poena  dum  habetis  in  po- 
testate  remedia  -  -  oblationes 
et  decimas  ecclesiis  offerte, 
luminaria  Sanctis  locis  juxta 
quod  habetis  exhibete  -  ad  ec- 
clesiam quoque  frequentius 
convenite,  sanctorum  patro- 
cinia  humiliter  expetite  -  -  - 
Quod  si  observaveritis,  securi 
in  die  judicii  ante  tribunal 
seterni  judicis  venientes  dice- 
tis :  Da,  Domine,  quia  dedi- 
mus."  p.  269. 


106  ST.    ELIGIUS  [NO.  VII. 

nal  ceremonies."  Let  us,  then,  look  at  it  as  it  stands. 
Some  of  it  appears  to  me  quite  unobjectionable,  and 
indeed,  as  far  as  I  can  judge,  there  are  only,  or  (to 
say  the  least)  chiefly,  three  points  at  which  protestants 
would  take  offence. 

1.  "  Redeem,  then,  your  souls  from  destruction  while 
the  means  are  in  your  power ;  offer  presents  and  tithes 
to  churchmen."  Pretty  advice,  truly- — it  shews  the 
cloven  foot  at  once  ;  and  the  sordid,  grasping  church- 
man stands  out  as  plain  as  Robertson,  or  Jortin,  or  any 
modern  radical,  could  wish.  I  say  nothing,  however, 
of  Robertson's  translating  "  oblationes  et  deciinas 
ecclesiis  offerte,"  by  "  offer  'presents  and  tithes  to  church- 
men" for  that  (however  indicative  of  the  animus)  is 
quite  unimportant  compared  with  his  connecting  the 
two  things  in  such  a  way  as  if  Eligius  had  made  the 
gift  of  presents  and  tithes  to  churchmen  the  means  of 
redeeming  men's  souls.  Mosheim  acts  more  fairly,  for 
he  places  two  hyphens  after  the  word  "  remedia,"  from 
which  his  copyists  should  have  learned  that  something 
was  omitted.  In  fact,  the  sentence  stands,  "  Redimite 
animas  vestras  de  poena  dum  habetis  in  potestate 
remedia  ;  eleemosynam  juxta  vires  facite,"  &c,  and  the 
reference  is  evidently  to  Dan.  iv.  24,  (our  version  27,) 
"  peccata  tua  eleemosynis  redime." 

2.  "  Humbly  implore  the  patronage  of  the  saints," 
is  certainly  an  injunction  which  may  properly  offend 
protestants ;  but  I  need  not,  I  presume,  say  that  it  is 
not  peculiar  to  St.  Eligius  or  the  dark  ages — that  the 
error  which  it  countenances  had  assumed  foul  shapes  of 
sin  centuries  before  he  was  born,  and  still  flourishes  in 
these  enlightened  days.  I  am  not  undertaking  to 
defend  all  that  Eligius  said,  but  only  to  shew  the 
absurdity  of  bringing  it  forward  as  peculiarly  charac- 
teristic of  his  preaching,  or  of  his  age.  That  it  was  not 
no.  will  as  clearly  appeal*  from  the  next  point. 

1 


NO.  VII.]  HIS    HOMILY.  107 

3.  "Give  to  us,  O  Lord,  for  we  have  given  unto 
Thee."  The  words  "  unto  Thee,"  are  neither  expressed 
nor  implied  in  the  original,  but  inserted  by  Robertson 
without  any  warrant  whatever.  The  idea,  however, 
and  even  the  mode  of  expressing  it,  was  not  charac- 
teristic of  the  age  of  St.  Eligius.  Strange  as  it  may 
seem  in  these  days  of  high  education  and  profuse  lite- 
rature, it  cannot  be  denied  that  during  the  dark  ages 
preachers  did  sometimes  make  bold  to  borrow  a  homily, 
or  part  of  one,  from  their  predecessors;  and,  in  fact, 
this  sermon  of  St.  Eligius  (or  part  of  it,  including  that 
with  which  we  are  at  present  concerned)  had  belonged 
to  Csesarius,  Bishop  of  Aries,  who  died  about  a  hun- 
dred years  before  Eligius  became  a  bishop 9.  He 
begins  a  Homily  on  Almsgiving  by  saying  that  a  gra- 
cious and  merciful  God  has  provided  a  variety  of  ways 
by  which  men  may  be  enabled  to  procure  the  pardon 
of  their  sins — "  quibus  possumus  sine  grandi  labore  ac 
difficultate  peccata  nostra  redimere"  and  he  afterwards 
says,  "  Let  him  to  whom  God  has  given  more  than 
necessaries  hasten  to  redeem  his  sins  with  his  super- 
fluity; and  let  him  who  has  it  not  in  his  power  to 
redeem  captives,  or  to  feed  or  clothe  the  poor,  harbour 
no  hatred  in  his  heart  against  any  man ;  but  let  him 
love,  and  never  cease  to  pray  for  them ;  certain  of  the 
promise,  or  the  mercy  of  his  Lord,  with  a  free  con- 
science he  will  be  able  to  say,  'Give,  Lord,  for  I  have 
given;  forgive,  for  I  have  forgiven1.'" 


9  Caesarius  was  born  in  a.d.  469,  and  became  Bishop  of  Aries  in  a.d. 
502,  and  died  a.d.  542.  Eligius  became  Bishop  of  Noyon,  according  to 
the  earliest  date  which  I  have  seen  assigned,  in  a.d.  635 ;  (Chron.  Elnon. 
ap.  III.  Mart.  1392;)  or,  according  to  the  latest,  which  Cave  states  to  be 
the  most  common,  in  the  year  646.  He  thinks,  however,  that  Le  Cointe 
has  proved  that  the  right  date  is  640 ;  and  adds,  that  according  to  the 
same  authority,  Eloy  lived  until  a.d.  059;  according  to  the  most  com- 
monly received  opinion  till  665  ;  and  according  to  others  till  663. 

1  Bib.  Pat.  ii.  285. 


108 


ST.    ELIGIUS 


[NO.  VII. 


This  was  the  language  of  Csesarius ;  and  I  adduce  it 
merely  to  shew  the  absurdity  of  bringing  forward  the 
words  as  characteristic  of  St.  Eloy  and  his  age,  and  in 
this  view  it  may  be  worth  while  to  add  that  the  lan- 
guage of  some  earlier,  and  more  respected,  fathers  did 
not,  as  far  as  I  can  see,  very  materially  differ  from  it. 

The  charge,  however,  against  Eligius  is  not  only,  and 
perhaps  not  principally,  that  his  doctrine  is  popishly 
heretical,  but  that  it  is  grossly  defective ;  he  is  much 
to  blame,  we  are  told,  for  what  he  says,  but  much  more 
to  blame  for  what  he  does  not  say.  Robertson  tells 
us,  "  The  learned  and  judicious  translator  of  Dr.  Mos- 
heim's  Ecclesiastical  History,  from  one  of  whose  addi- 
tional notes  I  have  borrowed  this  passage,  subjoins  a 
very  'proper  reflection — '  We  see  here  a  large  and  ample 
description  of  a  good  Christian,  in  which  there  is  not 
the  least  mention  of  the  love  of  God,  resignation  to  his 
will,  obedience  to  his  laws,  or  of  justice,  benevolence, 
and  charity  towards  men.' '  Jortin  says,  "  As  to  true 
religion,  here  is  the  sum  and  substance  of  it  as  it  is 
drawn  up  for  us  by  Eligius,  one  of  the  principal  saints 
of  that  age;"  and,  in  his  table  of  contents,  this  scrap 
is  referred  to  as  "  Eligius's  system  of  religion."  White, 
in  the  notes  to  his  Bampton  Lectures  (if  they  should 
be  called  his)  tells  us  that,  "  no  representation  can  con- 
vey stronger  ideas  of  the  melancholy  state  of  religion 
in  the  seventh  century  than  the  description  of  the 
character  of  a  good  Christian  by  St.  Eligius,  or  Eloi, 
Bishop  of  Noyon  V 

As  to  defectiveness,  then,  let  it  be  observed  in  the 
first  place,  that  this  scrap  is  but  a  very  small  part — as 
nearly  as  I  can  calculate  not  a  hundredth  part — of  a 
very  long  sermon  ;  or  rather,  as  one  might  suppose, 
from  its  prolixity  and  tautology,  even  if  the  language 


2  Bampton  Lectures,  notes,  p.  5. 


NO.  VII.]  HIS    HOMILY.  109 

of  St.  Eloy's  biographer  did  not  suggest  it,  of  several 
sermons  mixed  up  into  one  great  homily.  If  it  were 
printed  like  Bishop  Horsley's  Sermons,  it  would,  I 
believe,  occupy  just  about  the  fifty-six  octavo  pages 
which  contain  the  first  three  of  them.  Candour  would 
suggest  a  possibility  that  the  other  ninety-nine  parts 
might  contain  something  that  would  go  towards  sup- 
plying the  deficiencies  of  the  scrap. 

But  this  is  not  all ;  or  even  what  is  most  important. 
Mosheim  printed  the  passage  in  such  a  way  as  to  shew 
that  there  were  some  omissions,  though  he  did  not  indi- 
cate all.  In  Jortin's  translation  only  one  mark  of 
omission  is  retained  ;  and  that  is,  between  the  words 
"  prayer"  and  "  Redeem."  In  the  version  given  by 
Robertson,  all  such  indications  are  removed,  and  the 
scrap  stands  as  one  continuous  passage.  White  goes  a 
step  farther,  and  prints  the  Latin  text  without  any 
break  or  hint  of  omission.  Let  us,  therefore,  see  what 
is  omitted  in  the  part  which  is  professedly  quoted  ;  and 
as  that  part  is  not  far  advanced  in  the  sermon,  it  will 
be  best  to  begin  at  the  beginning.  The  part  actually 
extracted  by  Mosheim  I  mark  by  italics : — 

"  I  beseech  you,  most  dear  brethren,  and  admonish  you 
with  great  humility,  that  you  would  listen  attentively  to  those 
things  which  I  desire  to  suggest  to  you  for  your  salvation. 
For  Almighty  God  knows  that  I  offer  them  with  fervent  love 
towards  you,  and  were  I  to  do  otherwise  I  should  undoubt- 
edly be  held  to  have  failed  in  my  duty.  Receive,  then,  what 
I  say,  not  for  my  sake,  who  am  of  little  account,  but  for  your 
own  salvation,  willingly ;  at  least,  in  such  a  way  that  what 
you  receive  by  the  ear  you  may  fulfil  in  practice,  so  that  I 
may  be  counted  worthy  to  rejoice  with  you  in  the  kingdom 
of  heaven,  not  only  by  my  obedience,  but  through  your 
profiting  by  it.  If  there  is  any  one  of  you  who  is  displeased 
that  I  persist  in  preaching  to  you  so  frequently,  I  beg  him 
not  to  be  offended  with  me,  but  rather  to  consider  the  danger 
to  which  I  am  exposed,  and  to   listen  to  the  fearful  threat- 


110  ST.  ELIGTls  [NO.  VII. 

ening  which  the  Lord  has  addressed  to  priests  by  his  prophet, 
— c  If  thou  dost  not  speak  to  warn  the  wicked  from  his  way, 
that  wicked  man  shall  die  in  his  iniquity  ;  but  his  blood  will 
I  require  at  thine  hand.  Nevertheless,  if  thou  warn  the 
wicked  of  his  way  to  turn  from  it ;  if  he  do  not  turn  from  his 
way,  he  shall  die  in  his  iniquity ;  but  thou  hast  delivered  thy 
soul.' — Ezek.  xxxiii.  8.  And  that,  w  Cry  aloud,  spare  not,  and 
shew  my  people  their  sins.1 — Is.  lviii.  1. 

"  Consider  therefore,  brethren,  that  it  is  my  duty  inces- 
santly to  stir  up  your  minds  to  fear  the  judgment  of  God, 
and  to  desire  the  heavenly  reward,  that,  together  with  you, 
I  may  be  counted  worthy  to  enjoy  perpetual  peace  in  the  com- 
pany of  angels.  I  ask  you,  therefore,  always  to  hold  in  dread 
the  day  of  judgment ;  and  every  day  to  keep  before  your  eyes 
the  day  of  your  death. 

"  Consider  how  far  you  would  be  fit  to  be  presented  before 
angels,  or  what  you  would  receive  in  return  for  your  deserts, 
and  whether  you  will  be  able  in  that  day  to  shew  that  the 
promise  of  your  baptism  has  been  kept  unbroken.  Remember 
that  you  then  made  a  covenant  with  God,  and  that  you  pro- 
mised in  the  very  sacrament  of  baptism  to  renounce  the  Devil 
and  all  his  works.  Whosoever  was  able  then  made  this  pro- 
mise in  his  own  person  and  for  himself.  If  any  was  unable,  his 
sponsor,  that  is,  he  who  received  him  at  his  baptism,  made 
these  promises  to  God  for  him,  and  in  his  name. 

"  Consider,  therefore,  what  a  covenant  you  have  made  with 
God,  and  examine  yourselves  whether  after  that  promise  you 
have  been  following  that  wicked  Devil  whom  you  renounced. 
For  you  did  renounce  the  Devil,  and  all  his  pomps,  and  his 
works ;  that  is,  idols,  divinations,  auguries,  thefts,  frauds, 
fornications,  drunkenness,  and  lies,  for  these  are  his  works 
and  pomps.  On  the  contrary,  you  promised  to  believe  in 
God  the  Father  Almighty,  and  in  Jesus  Christ,  his  only  Son, 
our  Lord,  conceived  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  born  of  the  Virgin 
Mary ;  that  he  suffered  under  Pontius  Pilate,  rose  from  the 
dead  on  the  third  day,  and  ascended  into  heaven  ;  and  then 
you  promised  that  you  would  believe  also  in  the  Holy  Ghost, 
the  holy  catholic  church,  the  remission  of  sins,  the  resurrec- 
tion of  the  body,  and  the  life  everlasting.  Without  all  doubt 
this  your  covenant  and  confession  which  you  then  made  will 
never  be  lost  sight  of  by  God;   and,  therefore,  most   dearly 


NO.  VII.]  HIS    HOMILY.  Ill 

beloved,  I  warn  you  that  this  your  confession  or  promise 
should  always  be  kept  in  your  own  memory,  that  so  your 
bearing  the  Christian  name,  instead  of  rising  in  judgment 
against  you,  may  be  for  your  salvation.  For  you  are  made 
Christians  to  this  end,  that  you  may  always  do  the  works  of 
Christ ;  that  is,  that  you  may  love  chastity,  avoid  lewdness 
and  drunkenness,  maintain  humility,  and  detest  pride,  because 
our  Lord  Christ  both  shewed  humility  by  example  and  taught 
it  by  words,  saying — '  Learn  of  me,  for  I  am  meek  and  lowly 
in  heart ;  and  ye  shall  find  rest  to  your  souls.,  (Matt.  xi.  SO.) 
You  must  also  renounce  envy,  have  charity  among  yourselves, 
and  always  think  of  the  future  world,  and  of  eternal  blessed- 
ness, and  labour  rather  for  the  soul  than  for  the  body.  For 
the  flesh  will  be  only  a  short  time  in  this  world  ;  whereas  the 
soul,  if  it  does  well,  will  reign  for  ever  in  heaven  ;  but,  if  it 
does  wickedly,  it  will  burn  without  mercy  in  hell.  He,  in- 
deed, who  thinks  only  of  this  life  is  like  the  beasts  and  brute 
animals. 

"It  is  not  enough,  most  dearly  beloved,  for  you  to  have 
received  the  name  of  Christians,  if  you  do  not  do  Christian 
works.  To  be  called  a  Christian  profits  him  who  always 
retains  in  his  mind,  and  fulfils  in  his  actions,  the  commands 
of  Christ ;  that  is,  who  does  not  commit  theft,  does  not  bear 
false  witness,  who  neither  tells  lies  nor  swears  falsely,  who 
does  not  commit  adultery,  who  does  not  hate  anybody,  but 
loves  all  men  as  himself,  who  does  not  render  evil  to  his 
enemies,  but  rather  prays  for  them,  who  does  not  stir  up 
strife,  but  restores  peace  between  those  who  are  at  variance. 
For  these  precepts  Christ  himself  has  deigned  to  give  by  his 
own  mouth,  in  the  gospel,  saying — c  Thou  shalt  do  no  mur- 
der, Thou  shalt  not  commit  adultery,  Thou  shalt  not  steal, 
Thou  shalt  not  bear  false  witness,  Thou  shalt  not  swear 
falsely  nor  commit  fraud,  Honour  thy  father  and  thy  mother : 
and,  Thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbour  as  thyself.1  (Matt.  xix. 
18,  19.)  And  also,  'All  things  whatsoever  ye  would  that 
men  should  do  to  you ;  do  ye  even  so  to  them  :  for  this  is 
the  law  and  the  prophets.1  (Matt.  vii.  12.) 

41  And  he  has  given  yet  greater,  but  very  strong  and  fruit- 
ful (valde  fortia  atque  fructifera)  commands,  saying — '  Love 
your  enemies,  do  good  to  them  that  hate  you,'  and  '  pray 
for    them    which    despitefnlly   use    you   and    persecute   you.1 


112  ST.  ELIGIUS  [NO.  VII. 

(Matt.  v.  44.)     Behold,  this  is  a  strong  commandment,  and 
to  men  it  seems  a  hard  one  ;  but  it  has  a  great  reward  ;  hear 
what  it  is — l  That  ye  may  be,1  he  saith,  '  the  children  of  your 
Father  which  is  in  heaven .,     Oh,  how  great  grace  !     Of  our- 
selves we  are  not  even  worthy  servants  ;  and  by  loving  our 
enemies  we  become  sons  of  God.     Therefore,  my  brethren, 
both  love  your  friends  in  God,  and  your  enemies  for  God  ; 
for  '  he  that  loveth  his  neighbour,1  as  saith  the  apostle,  '  hath 
fulfilled  the  law.1  (Rom.  xiii.  8.)     For  he  who  will  be  a  true 
Christian  must  needs   keep   these  commandments ;    because, 
if  he  does  not  keep  them,  he  deceives  himself.     He,  there- 
fore, is  a  good  Christian  who   puts   faith   in   no  charms  or 
diabolical  inventions,  but  places  all  his  hope  in  Christ  alone  ; 
who  receives  strangers  with  joy,   even  as  if  it  were  Christ 
himself,  because  he  will  say — '  I  was  a  stranger,  and  ye  took 
me  in,1  and,  'inasmuch  as  ye  have  done  it  unto  one  of  the 
least  of  these  my  brethren,  ye  have  done  it  unto  me.1     He,  I 
say,  is  a  good  Christian  who  washes  the  feet  of  strangers,  and 
loves  them  as  most  dear  relations ;    who,  according   to   his 
means,   gives   alms    to   the   poor ;    who   comes  frequently  to 
church :    who  presents   the   oblation   which    is  offered  to    God 
upon  the  altar ;  who  doth  not  taste  of  his  fruits  before  he  hath 
offered  somewhat   to  God;    who   has   not  a  false   balance  or 
deceitful  measures  ;  who  hath  not  given  his  money  to  usury ; 
who  both  lives  chastely  himself,  and  teaches  his  sons  and  his 
neighbours  to  live  chastely  and  in  the  fear  of  God ;  and,  as 
often  as  the  holy  festivals  occur,  lives  continently  even  with  his 
own  wife  for  some  days  previously,  that  he  may,  with  safe  con- 
science, draw  near  to  the  altar  of  God ;  finally,  who  can  repeat 
the  Creed  or  the  Lord^s  Prayer,  and  teaches  the  same  to  his 
sons  and  servants.      He    who   is   such   an   one,    is,   without 
doubt,  a  true    Christian,  and   Christ   also   dwelleth   in   him, 
who  hath  said,  '  I  and  the  Father  will  come  and  make  our 
abode  with  him.1  (John  xiv.  23.)     And,  in  like  manner,   he 
saith,  by  the  prophet,    '  I  will  dwell  in  them,  and  walk  in 
them,  and  I  will  be  their  God,  and  they  shall  be  my  people.1 
(2  Cor.  vi.  16.) 

"  Behold,  brethren,  ye  have  heard  what  sort  of  persons  are 
good  Christians ;  and  therefore  labour  as  much  as  you  can, 
with  God's  assistance,  that  the  Christian  name  may  not  be 
falsely  applied  to  you ;    but,   in  order  that  you  may  be  true 


NO.  VII.]  HIS    HOMILY.  113 

Christians,  always  meditate  in  your  hearts  on  the  commands 
of  Christ,  and  fulfil  them  in  your  practice ;  redeem  your  souls 
from  punishment  while  you  have  the  means  in  your  power; 
give   alms   according    to    your   means,    maintain   peace   and 
charity,   restore   harmony   among    those   who   are   at   strife, 
avoid  lying,  abhor  perjury,  bear  no  false  witness,  commit  no 
theft,  offer  oblations  and  gifts  to  churches,  provide  lights  for 
sacred  places  according  to  your  means,  retain  in  your  memory 
the  Creed  and  the  Lord's  Prayer,  and  teach  them  to  your 
sons.     Moreover,  teach  and  chastise  those  children  for  whom 
you  are  sponsors,  that  they  may  always  live  with  the  fear  of 
God.      Know   that   you   are    sponsors   for   them   with   God. 
Come  frequently  also  to  church ;  humbly  seek  the  patronage  of 
the  saints ;  keep  the  Lord's  day  in  reverence  of  the  resurrec- 
tion of  Christ,  without  any  servile  work ;  celebrate  the  festi- 
vals of  the  saints  with  devout  feeling ;  love  your  neighbours 
as  yourselves ;  what  you  would  desire  to  be  done  to  you  by 
others,  that  do  to  others ;  what  you  would  not  have  done  to 
you,  do  to  no  one ;  before  all  things  have  charity,  for  charity 
covereth  a  multitude  of  sins ;  be  hospitable,  humble,  casting 
all  your  care  upon  God,  for  he  careth  for  you ;  visit  the  sick, 
seek  out  the  captives,   receive   strangers,   feed   the   hungry, 
clothe  the  naked ;  set  at  nought  soothsayers  and  magicians, 
let  your  weights  and   measures   be  fair,  your   balance  just, 
your  bushel  and  your  pint  fair;  nor  must  you   claim  back 
more  than  you  gave,  nor  exact  from  any  one  usury  for  money 
lent.      Which,   if  you  observe,  coming  toith  security  before  the 
tribunal  of  the  eternal  Judge,  in  the  day  of  Judgment,  you  may 
say  i  Give,  Lord,  for  ice  have  given  ;  shew  mercy,  for  we  have 
shewn  mercy ;  we  have  fulfilled  what  thou  hast  commanded, 
do  thou  give  what  thou  hast  promised.'1 " 

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

I 


114  ST.    ELIGIUS  [NO.  VII. 

and  of  grace  should  be  exposed ;  but  with  so  wide  a 
field  before  us,  I  am  unwilling,  at  present,  to  give  more 
space  than  this  to  one  subject,  especially  as  I  am 
anxious  to  get  beyond  that  part  of  the  subject  which  con- 
sists in  merely  contradicting  misstatement ;  but  I  can- 
not do  so  until  I  have  offered  some  remarks  on  the  work 
of  a  popular  historian  whom  I  have  not  as  yet  noticed. 

The  passage  in  Mosheim  which  gave  rise  to  this 
paper  is  still  retained  without  qualification  or  explana- 
tion in  the  "  New  and  literal  translation  from  the 
original  Latin,  with  copious  additional  notes,  original 
and  selected,  by  James  Murdock,  D.D.,  edited,  with 
additions,  by  Henry  Soames,  M.A.,  rector  of  Stapleford 
Tawaiey,  with  Thoydon  Mount,  Essex,"  and  published 
by  Messrs.  Longman  and  others  in  the  year  1841.  I 
am  tempted,  therefore,  to  give  some  further  extracts 
which  I  made  when  the  paper  was  wTitten,  but  which 
would  have  occupied  too  much  room  in  the  magazine. 
But  for  this  I  should  then  have  produced  proofs  and 
illustrations  of  my  statement,  that  the  sermon  seemed 
as  if  it  had  been  written  to  anticipate  and  refute  the 
charges  of  Mosheim. 

In  this  new  translation  the  passage  to  which  the  note 
on  St.  Eligius  is  appended,  stands  as  follows : — 

"  During  this  century,  true  religion  lay  buried  under 
a  senseless  mass  of  superstitions;  and  was  unable  to 
raise  her  head.  The  earlier  Christians  had  worshipped 
only  God,  and  his  Son ;  but  those  called  Christians  in 
this  age,  worshipped  the  wood  of  a  cross,  the  images  of 
holy  men,  and  bones  of  dubious  origin.  The  early 
Christians  placed  heaven  and  hell  before  the  view  of 
men ;  these  latter  depicted  a  certain  fire  prepared  to 
burn  off  the  imperfections  of  the  soul.  The  former 
taught,  that  Christ  had  made  expiation  for  the  sins  of 
men,  by  his  death  and  his  blood  ;  the  latter  seemed  to 


NO.  VII.]  HIS    HOMILY.  115 

inculcate,  that  the  gates  of  heaven  would  be  closed 
against  none  who  should  enrich  the  clergy  or  the  church 
with  their  donations." — Vol.  ii.  p.  93. 

Now  at  this  distance  of  time  I  do  not  pretend  to 
speak  positively  respecting  the  contents  of  this  long 
rambling  discourse,  which  it  is  not  worth  while  to  search 
over  again  minutely,  in  order  to  say  whether  it  contains 
one  word  about  the  wood  of  the  cross,  or  the  images  of 
the  saints,  or  the  dubious  bones.  I  really  believe  there 
is  nothing  of  the  kind ;  but  the  extracts  which  I  have 
by  me  were,  I  believe,  made  to  meet  the  statement 
that  instead  of  having  heaven  and  hell  set  before  them, 
the  people  were  told  about  a  certain  fire  that  was  "  to 
burn  off  the  imperfections  of  the  soul."  The  reader 
will  therefore  understand  that  I  give  them  as  illustra- 
tive of  the  preacher's  doctrine  (if  he  can  be  said  to 
have  had  any)  of  purgatory ;  though  at  the  same  time 
they  may  shew  us  what  he  taught  on  some  other 
subjects;  and  lead  the  reader  very  reasonably  to  dis- 
believe the  charges  made  on  the  other  points,  all  of 
which  could  hardlv  be  answered  without  extracting  the 
greater  part  of  the  Homily. 

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

After  addressing  magistrates,  he  says — "  Considering  these 
things,  brethren,  both  you  who  govern  and  you  who  are 
subject,  ground  yourselves  in  the  fear  of  God.      Retain  what 

i2 


1 1  6  ST.    ELIGIUS  [NO.  VII. 

lias  been  said,  do  what  is  commanded,  have  Christ  always  in 
your  mind,  and  his  mark  on  your  forehead.  Know  that  you 
have  many  adversaries  who  are  eager  to  impede  your  course ; 
therefore  in  all  places  and  at  all  times  arm  yourselves  with 
the  sign  of  the  cross,  fortify  yourselves  with  the  standard  of 
the  cross ;  for  this  alone  they  fear,  this  alone  they  dread,  and 
this  is  given  you  as  a  shield  whereby  you  may  quench  all  the 
fiery  darts  of  the  wicked  one.  For  the  mark  of  Christ  is  a 
great  thing  and  the  cross  of  Christ,  but  it  profits  those  only 
who  keep  the  precepts  of  Christ.  That  it  may  profit  you, 
therefore,  strive  to  fulfil  his  precepts  with  all  your  might ; 
and  whether  you  sit  or  walk,  or  eat,  or  go  to  bed,  or  get  up, 
always  let  the  mark  of  Christ  guard  your  forehead,  that  by 
the  recollection  of  God  it  may  both  protect  you  while  waking 
and  keep  you  while  asleep ;  and  as  often  as  you  wake  in  the 
night  and  sleep  flies  from  your  eyes,  immediately  let  the  sign 
of  the  cross  occur  to  your  lips  and  let  your  minds  be  occu- 
pied in  prayers,  and  revolve  the  commandments  of  God  in 
your  hearts,  lest  the  enemy  should  suddenly  creep  into  your 
stupid  breasts,  or  the  eager  adversary  twist  himself  into  your 
soul  through  your  foolish  carelessness.  And  when  he  sug- 
gests to  your  sense  any  evil  thought,  set  before  yourself  the 
future  judgment  of  God,  the  punishment  of  hell,  the  pains  of 
Gehenna,  the  darkness  of  Tartarus,  which  the  wicked  endure. 
If  you  do  this,  the  evil  thought  will  immediately  vanish,  and 
the  power  of  Christ  will  not  desert  you ;  for  that  which  the 
prophet  has  said  is  true,  '  He  that  trusteth  in  the  Lord,  mercy 
shall  compass  him  about.'' "  (Ps.  xxxii.  10..) — p.  98  b. 

"  Redeem  yourselves  while  you  live,  for  after  death  no  one 
can  redeem  you"  (quia  post  mortem  nemo  vos  redimere 
potest).— p.  99  b. 

"  In  all  these  works  of  goodness  which  the  Lord  has  com- 
manded you  to  perform,  he  seeks  nothing  from  you  but  the 
salvation  of  your  souls,  and  that  you  may  fear  him  always 
and  keep  his  commandments  [then  after  referring  to  and  in 
great  measure  repeating  the  blessing  and  the  curse  given  by 
Moses,  he  proceeds :]  These  things  therefore,  brethren, 
always  keep  in  mind,  these  words  repeat  to  your  sons  and 
your  neighbours,  remember  them  when  you  sit  in  your 
houses,  and  when  you  walk,  neither  forget  them  in  your 
prosperity,  but  always  fear  Cod,  and  serve  him  alone,  lest  his 


NO.  VII.]  HIS    HOMILY.  117 

fury  be  kindled  against  you.  Know  that  he  keepeth  covenant 
and  mercy  towards  those  who  love  him  and  keep  his  com- 
mandments, and  heals  all  their  sicknesses.  Consider  that, 
as  the  apostle  John  forewarns,  '  it  is  the  last  hour,'  and  there- 
fore do  not  now  love  the  world,  for  it  soon  passe th  away,  and 
all  the  lust  thereof  with  it.  But,  do  you  do  the  will  of  God, 
that  you  may  remain  for  ever,  and  may  have  confidence  when 
he  shall  appear,  and  not  be  confounded  at  his  coming.  Let 
no  man  deceive  you.  He  that  doeth  righteousness  is  righteous, 
and  he  that  committeth  sin  is  of  the  devil ;  and  certainly 
every  sin,  whether  theft,  or  adultery,  or  lying,  is  not  com- 
mitted without  diabolical  agency.  Consider,  I  beseech  you, 
what  a  destructive  thing  it  is  to  do  the  works  of  the  devil, 
and  to  become  partaker  with  him,  not  in  rest,  but  in  the 
punishment  of  gehenna.  Therefore,  whenever  you  sin,  do 
not  wait  in  mortiferous  security  until  your  wounds  putrefy, 
nor  add  others  to  them,  but  immediately  by  the  confession  of 
repentance  hasten  to  obtain  a  remedy." — p.  100  a. 

"  Now,  according  to  his  unspeakable  mercy,  the  Lord  not 
only  admonishes,  but  entreats  that  we  would  be  converted  to 
him.  Let  us  therefore  listen  to  him  when  he  asks,  lest  if  we 
do  not,  he  should  not  listen  to  us  when  he  judges.  Let  us 
listen  also  to  the  Scripture,  which  crieth  out,  l  My  son, 
have  pity  on  thine  own  soul,  pleasing  GodV  What  wilt 
thou  answer  to  this,  O  human  frailty?  God  entreats  thee 
to  pity  thyself,  and  thou  wilt  not ;  how  shall  he  hear  thee 
supplicating  in  the  day  of  necessity,  when  thou  wilt  not 
hear  him  entreating  for  thyself?  If  you  now  neglect  these 
things,  brethren,  what  will  you  do  in  the  day  of  judgment,  or 
to  what  refuge  will  you  fly  I  If,  I  say,  you  now  neglect  such 
exhortations  of  God,  you  will  not  then  escape  the  torments 
of  hell,  nor  can  gold  or  silver  deliver  you,  nor  those  riches 
which  you  now  secrete  in  corners,  and  through  the  pride  of 
which  you  become  negligent  of  your  salvation.  For  hence, 
God  saith  by  the  prophet,  '  I  will  visit  you  with  evil,  and  I 
will  cause  the  arrogancy  of  the  wicked  to  cease,  and  will  lay 
low  the  haughtiness  of  the  terrible.'  (Is.  xiii.  11.)     And  again 


3  "  Miserere  animae  tuae  placens  Deo."  F.cclus.  xxx.  24.  Our  English 
version  is,  "  Love  thine  own  soul,  and  comfort  thy  heart ;  remove  sorrow 
far  from  thee.''  v.  23.     I  give  the  Douay  in  the  text. 


118  ST.    ELIGIUS  [NO.  VII. 

he  admonishes,  saying,  '  Bring  it  again  to  mind,  0  ye  trans- 
gressors ;  cease  to  do  evil,  learn  to  do  well ;  relieve  the 
oppressed,  defend  the  poor,  and  the  widow,  and  the  orphan ; 
deal  not  by  oppression  with  the  stranger  V  These  things, 
therefore,  brethren,  keep  in  mind.  Hasten  to  observe  them 
with  all  your  might.  Fight  as  those  who  are  separated  from 
the  devil.  Be  joined  to  God,  who  has  redeemed  you.  Let 
the  Gentiles  be  astonished  at  your  conversation,  and  if  they 
slander  you,  and  even  if  they  mock  you  for  performing  the 
duties  of  Christianity,  let  not  that  trouble  you,  for  they 
shall  give  an  account  to  God.  Place,  therefore,  all  your 
hope  in  the  mercy  of  Christ,  and  not  only  abstain  from  every 
impure  act,  but  also  guard  your  minds  from  evil  thoughts ; 
for  the  Lord  God  is  a  righteous  judge,  and  judgeth  of  evil 
thoughts;—  p.  101  b. 

"  Moreover,  that  which  is  threatened  by  the  voice  of  truth 
in  the  gospel :  '  they,1  it  saith,  '  that  do  iniquity  shall  be  cast 
into  a  furnace  of  fire,  where  there  shall  be  weeping  and 
gnashing  of  teeth.'  Consider,  then,  how  fierce,  how  much  to 
be  dreaded  that  fire  is ;  and  let  him  who  could  not  now  bear 
to  put  even  one  of  his  fingers  in  the  fire,  fear  to  be  tormented 
there  with  his  whole  body  for  ever"  (in  ssecula). — p.  102  b. 

"  But  know  that  the  soul  when  it  is  separated  from  the 
body,  is  either  immediately  placed  in  paradise  for  its  good 
deserts,  or  certainly  precipitated  directly  into  hell  for  its 
sins."— p.  103  b. 

"  Love  therefore  with  all  your  hearts  that  eternal  life 
which  through  all  ages  you  shall  never  bring  to  an  end. 
Hasten  thither,  where  you  shall  ever  live,  and  never  fear 
death.  For  if  you  love  this  wretched,  fleeting  life  which  you 
maintain  with  such  labour, — in  which  by  running  about  and 
bustling,  by  the  sweat  of  your  brow,  and  working  yourselves 
out  of  breath,  you  can  scarcely  provide  the  necessaries  of 
life, — how  much  more  should  you  love  eternal  life  in  which 
you  shall  have  no  labour  at  all,  where  there  is  always  the 
highest  security,  secure  happiness,  happy  freedom,  free  bless- 


4  The  passage  stands,  "  Redite  prsevaricatores  ad  cor ;  quiescite  agere 
perverse,  discite  benefacere ;  succurrite  oppresso,  defendite  pauperem  et 
viduarn,  et  pupillum  ;  et  advenam  nolite  calumniari."  It  will  be  seen  that 
it  is  made  up  from  Is.  xlvi.  8.  and  i.  16,  17.  and  Ezek.  xxii.  7. 

1 


NO.  VII.]  HIS    HOMILY.  119 

edncss  ;  where  shall  be  fulfilled  that  which  our  Lord  saith 
in  the  gospel,  '  Men  shall  be  like  unto  the  angels ;'  like, 
indeed,  not  in  substance,  but  in  blessedness  I  And  that, 
•  then  shall  the  just  shine  forth  as  the  sun  in  the  kingdom  of 
their  Father.'  What,  think  you,  will  then  be  the  splendour 
of  souls,  when  the  light  of  bodies  shall  have  the  brightness 
of  the  sun  ?  There  shall  then  be  no  sorrow,  no  labour,  no 
grief,  no  death ;  but  perpetual  health  shall  endure.  There 
no  evil  shall  arise,  no  misery  of  the  flesh,  no  sickness,  no 
need  of  any  kind ;  there  shall  be  no  hunger,  no  thirst,  no 
cold,  no  heat,  no  faintness  of  fasting,  nor  any  temptation  of 
the  enemy ;  nor  then  any  will  to  sin,  any  possibility  of  defec- 
tion ;  but  there  shall  be  fulness  of  joy,  and  exultation  in  all 
things ;  and  men,  associated  with  angels,  shall  be  ever  young 
in  freedom  from  all  fleshly  infirmity.  There,  therefore,  shall 
be  solid  joy,  there  secure  rest,  there  pleasure  infinite  ;  where 
if  it  be  once  attained,  there  shall  be  no  chance  of  losing  it 
throughout  eternity,  in  that  blessedness  in  which  what  is 
once  gained  shall  be  kept  for  ever.  Nothing  is  there  more 
magnificent  than  that  place,  nothing  more  glorious,  nothing 
more  bright,  more  beautiful,  more  true,  more  noble,  nothing 
more  pure  in  excellence,  nothing  more  abundant  in  fulness. 
There  always  peace  and  the  highest  rejoicing.  There  is 
true  and  certain  happiness.  There  shall  no  longer  be  feared 
that  most  fierce  enemy  who  continually  desires  to  destroy 
souls,  nor  shall  the  fiery  darts  of  the  devil,  or  any  tempta- 
tions of  the  adversary,  be  any  longer  dreaded.  The  cruelty 
of  barbarians  shall  no  more  strike  terror,  nor  shall  any  adver- 
sity be  thenceforth  apprehended.  There  shall  be  no  fear  of 
the  sword,  of  fire,  or  the  savage  countenance  of  the  tor- 
mentor. No  one  in  that  glorious  place  shall  want  clothing ; 
for  there  is  there  no  cold  nor  heat,  nor  any  change  of  cli- 
mate. No  one  there  hungers,  none  is  sad,  none  is  a  stranger ; 
but  all  who  shall  be  counted  worthy  to  attain  to  that  place 
shall  live  secure  as  in  their  own  country.  The  flesh  shall  no 
longer  war  against  the  spirit,  nor  shall  any  danger  be  feared, 
but  unspeakable  rewards  with  the  angels  shall  be  given  by 
Christ ;  and  *  What  the  eye  hath  not  seen,'  saith  the  apostle, 
1  nor  the  ear  heard,  neither  hath  it  entered  into  the  heart  of 
man  to  conceive  what  God  hath  prepared  for  those  who  love 
him.1      Behold   what   blessedness   he    will    lose   who   refu- 


120  ST.   ELIGIUS  [NO.  VII. 

now  while  he  hath  opportunity  to  amend  himself.  Let  us 
therefore,  brethren,  for  whom  so  great  blessedness  is  pre- 
pared in  heaven,  disdain  (the  Lord  being  our  helper)  to  be 
any  longer  the  servants  of  sin.  While,  then,  there  is  time, 
let  us  hasten  to  obtain  the  favour  of  God,  let  us  despise 
earthly  things,  that  we  may  gain  those  which  are  heavenly ; 
let  us  think  of  ourselves  as  pilgrims  in  this  world,  that  we  may 
the  more  cheerfully  hasten  towards  heaven ;  for  all  the  things 
which  are  here  seen  quickly  pass  away,  and  will  be  gone  like  a 
shadow." — p.  103  b. 

After  quoting  Matt.  xxv.  of  our  Lord's  advent,  he 
proceeds : — 

"  Then  when  all  are  looking,  he  will  shew  the  wounds  and 
the  holes  of  the  nails  in  that  body  undoubtedly  the  same  in 
which  he  was  wounded  for  our  transgressions ;  and  address- 
ing the  sinners  he  will  then  say — ;  I  formed  thee,  0  man, 
with  my  hands  from  the  dust  of  the  earth,  and  placed  thee 
amidst  the  delights  of  a  paradise,  which  thou  didst  not 
deserve  ;  but  thou,  despising  me  and  my  commands,  didst 
prefer  to  follow  a  deceiver ;  wherefore,  being  condemned  to 
just  punishment,  thou  wast  appointed  to  the  torments  of 
hell.  Afterwards,  pitying  thee,  I  became  incarnate,  I  dwelt 
on  earth  among  sinners,  I  bare  scorn  and  stripes  for  thee. 
That  I  might  save  thee,  I  underwent  blows  and  spitting. 
That  I  might  gain  for  thee  the  sweets  of  paradise,  I  drank 
vinegar  and  gall.  For  thee  I  was  crowned  with  thorns, 
fastened  to  the  cross,  wounded  with  the  spear.  For  thee  I 
died,  was  laid  in  the  grave,  and  descended  into  hell.  That  I 
might  bring  thee  back  to  paradise,  I  went  to  the  gates  of 
hell ;  that  thou  mightest  reign  in  heaven,  I  penetrated  the 
infernal  deep.  Acknowledge,  then,  oh  human  impiety,  how 
much  I  have  suffered  for  thee.  Behold  the  wounds  which  I 
received  for  thee,  behold  the  holes  of  those  nails  fastened  by 
which  I  hanged  on  the  cross.  I  bare  thy  griefs,  that  I  might 
heal  thee  ;  I  underwent  punishment,  that  I  might  give  thee 
glory ;  I  submitted  to  death,  that  thou  mightest  live  for  ever ; 
I  lay  in  the  sepulchre,  that  thou  mightest  reign  in  heaven. 
All  these  things  I  bare  for  you ;  what  more  than  these  things 
should  1  have  done  for  you  that  I  have  not  done?  Tell  mo 
now,  or  shew  me,  what  you  have  suffered   for  me,  or  what 


NO.  VII.]  HIS    HOMILY.  121 

good  you  have  done  for  yourselves.  I  when  I  was  invisible 
did,  of  my  own  will,  become  incarnate  on  your  account ; 
though  I  was  impassible,  for  you  I  condescended  to  suffer ; 
when  I  was  rich,  for  your  sakes  I  became  poor.  But  you, 
always  despising  both  my  humility  and  my  commandments, 
have  followed  the  seducer  rather  than  me ;  and  now  behold 
my  justice  cannot  adjudge  to  you  anything  else  than  what 
your  works  deserve  to  receive.  Take,  then,  what  you  have 
chosen ;  you  have  despised  light,  possess  darkness ;  you 
have  loved  death,  go  into  perdition ;  you  have  followed  the 
devil,  go  with  him  into  eternal  fire.1  What,  think  you,  will 
then  be  the  grief,  what  the  lamentation,  what  the  sadness, 
what  the  distress,  when  this  sentence  shall  be  given  against 
the  wicked  ?  For  then  shall  be  to  the  wicked  a  grievous 
separation  from  the  sweet  company  of  the  saints ;  and,  being 
delivered  over  to  the  power  of  demons,  they  will  go  in  their 
own  bodies  with  the  devil  into  eternal  punishment,  and  will 
remain  for  ever  in  lamentation  and  groaning.  For  being  far 
exiled  from  the  blessed  country  of  Paradise,  they  will  be  tor- 
mented in  hell,  never  again  to  see  light,  never  to  obtain  a 
time  of  refreshing,  never  to  end  their  punishment,  never  to 
arrive  at  rest ;  but  through  thousands  of  thousands  of  years 
to  be  tormented  in  hell,  nor  ever,  through  all  eternity,  to  be 
delivered.  Where  he  that  torments  is  never  tired,  and  he 
that  is  tormented  never  dies.  For  there  the  fire  so  consumes 
that  it  still  reserves ;  torments  are  so  inflicted  as  that  they 
may  be  for  ever  renewed.  According  to  the  quality  of  his 
crimes,  however,  each  one  will  there  suffer  the  punishments 
of  hell ;  and  those  who  are  guilty  of  the  like  sins  will  be 
associated  together  in  punishment.  Nothing  will  be  heard 
there  but  weeping,  and  wailing,  and  gnashing  of  teeth. 
There  will  be  no  consolation,  nothing  but  flames  and  the  ter- 
rors of  punishments,  and  the  wretched  ones  will  burn  with- 
out end  in  eternal  fire  through  all  ages.  But  the  just  shall 
go  into  life  eternal,  and  without  doubt  in  that  very  same 
flesh  which  they  here  had,  and  shall  be  associated  with  holy 
angels  in  the  kingdom  of  God,  appointed  to  perpetual  joys, 
never  again  to  die,  no  more  to  see  corruption,  but  always 
filled  with  the  joy  and  sweetness  of  Christ,  they  shall  shine 
as  the  sun  in  the  brightness  and  glory  which  God  has  pre- 
pared for  those  who   love  him.     And  the  mure   obedient  to 


122  henry's  [no.  viii. 

God  any  one  hath  been  in  this  life,  so  much  the  larger 
reward  shall  he  receive  ;  and  the  more  he  hath  loved  God  here, 
the  more  nearly  shall  he  then  see  him. 

"  Behold,  most  dearly  beloved,  I  have  foretold  you  plainly, 
so  that  you  may  understand  what  things  shall  happen  to 
every  one.  No  one  can  now  plead  ignorance,  for  life  and 
death  are  set  before  you ;  the  punishments  of  the  wicked  and 
the  glory  of  the  just  are  told  you, — now  it  remains  for  your 
choice  to  take  which  you  please  ;  for  each  will  surely  then 
possess  that  which  he  hath  desired  and  endeavoured  after 
here."— p.  104  b. 

These  are  not  all  the  passages  which  might  be 
quoted  to  the  same  effect ;  but  surely  they  are  more 
than  enough,  and  such  in  quality  as  to  warrant  my 
saying  that  they  seem  as  if  they  had  been  written  pur- 
posely to  anticipate,  and  refute,  the  charge  that  the 
preachers,  of  whom  St.  Eloy  is  given  as  a  specimen, 
instead  of  placing  "  heaven  and  hell  before  the  view  of 
men,"  only  "  depicted  a  certain  fire  prepared  to  burn 
off  the  imperfections  of  the  soul." 


No.  VIII. 


"  A  modern  author,  who  writes  the  history  of  ancient  times,  can  have 
no  personal  knowledge  of  the  events  of  which  he  writes;  and  conse- 
quently he  can  have  no  title  to  the  credit  and  confidence  of  the  public, 
merely  on  his  own  authority.  If  he  does  not  write  romance  instead  of 
history,  he  must  have  received  his  information  from  tradition — from 
authentic  monuments,  original  records,  or  the  memoirs  of  more  ancient 
writers — and  therefore  it  is  but  just  to  acquaint  his  readers  from  whence 
he  actually  received  it." — Henry. 

In  the  preceding  paper,  I  expressed  my  design  to  go 
on  from  Robertson  to  another  popular  writer ;  and  I 
now  beg  to  call  the  reader's  attention  to  the  historian 
from  whom  I  have  borrowed  my  motto.     In  that  part 


NO.  VIII.]  HISTORY    OF    ENGLAND.  123 

of  his  History  of  England  which  treats  of  the  tenth 
century,  Henry  compassionately  says  : — 

"  That  we  may  not  entertain  too  contemptible  an  opinion 
of  our  forefathers,  who  flourished  in  the  benighted  ages  which 
we  are  now  examining,  it  is  necessary  to  pay  due  attention  to 
their  unhappy  circumstances.  To  say  nothing  of  that  con- 
tempt for  letters  which  they  derived  from  their  ancestors,  and 
of  the  almost  incessant  wars  in  which  they  were  engaged,  it 
was  difficult,  or  rather  impossible,  for  any  but  the  clergy,  and 
a  very  few  of  the  most  wealthy  among  the  laity,  to  obtain  the 
least  smattering  of  learning ;  because  all  the  means  of  acquir- 
ing it  were  far  beyond  their  reach.  It  is  impossible  to  learn 
to  read  and  write  even  our  own  native  tongue,  which  is  now 
hardly  esteemed  a  part  of  learning,  without  books,  masters, 
and  materials  for  writing ;  but  in  those  ages,  all  these  were  so 
extremely  scarce  and  dear,  that  none  but  great  princes  and 
wealthy  prelates  could  procure  them.  We  have  already  heard 
of  a  large  estate  given  by  a  king  of  Northumberland  for  a 
single  volume ;  and  the  history  of  the  middle  ages  abounds 
with  examples  of  that  kind.  How,  then,  was  it  possible  for 
persons  of  a  moderate  fortune  to  procure  so  much  as  one  book, 
much  less  such  a  number  of  books  as  to  make  their  learning  to 
read  an  accomplishment  that  would  reward  their  trouble  \  It 
was  then  as  difficult  to  borrow  books  as  to  buy  them.  It  is  a 
sufficient  proof  of  this  that  the  king  of  France  was  obliged  to 
deposit  a  considerable  quantity  of  plate,  and  to  get  one  of  his 
nobility  to  join  with  him  in  a  bond,  under  a  high  penalty,  to 
return  it,  before  he  could  procure  the  loan  of  one  volume, 
which  may  now  be  purchased  for  a  few  shillings.  Materials 
for  writing  were  also  very  scarce  and  dear,  which  made  few 
persons  think  of  learning  that  art.  This  was  one  reason  of 
the  scarcity  of  books ;  and  that  great  estates  were  often  trans- 
ferred from  one  owner  to  another  by  a  mere  verbal  agreement. 
and  the  delivery  of  earth  and  stone,  before  witnesses,  without 
any  written  deed.  Parchment,  in  particular,  on  which  all 
their  books  were  written,  was  so  difficult  to  be  procured,  that 
many  of  the  MSS.  of  the  middle  ages,  which  are  still  pre- 
served, appear  to  have  been  written  on  parchment  from  which 
some  former  writing  had  been  erased." — Book  ii.  ch.  iv.  vol.  iv. 
p.  80. 


124  henry's  account  [no.  viii. 

After  what  I  have  said  in  former  papers,  it  is,  I 
trust,  quite  unnecessary  to  make  a  single  remark  on  all 
this ;  which  I  transcribe  and  set  before  the  reader, 
instead  of  asking  him,  as  I  should  otherwise  have  done, 
to  turn  back  to  the  statements  of  Robertson,  which  I 
have  from  time  to  time  quoted,  and  to  see  how  far, 
when  read  off  without  any  explanation,  they  are  calcu- 
lated to  give  a  true  view  of  things.  Henry  has,  how- 
ever, one  "  hack  story,"  of  which  I  must  take  particular 
notice ;  for,  notwithstanding  the  false  impression  con- 
veyed by  such  absurd  matter  as  that  which  I  have  just 
quoted,  there  is  really  more  mischief  done  by  the  little 
pointed  anecdotes  with  which  some  popular  writers 
pretend  to  prove  or  to  illustrate  their  sweeping  state- 
ments. These  stories  are  remembered  by  their  readers, 
and  the  semblance  of  particular  and  detailed  truth  in 
one  instance,  gives  sanction  and  weight  to  a  whole 
string  of  false  and  foolish  assertions  about  the  general 
state  of  things.  Perhaps  it  might  be  enough  to  refer 
the  reader  back  to  the  instance  of  the  Abbot  Bonus  ] ; 
but  instead  of  that  we  will  have  an  entirely  new  story, 
from  Henry. 

Having  told  us  that — 

"  All  the  nations  of  Europe  were  involved  in  such  profound 
darkness  during  the  whole  course  of  the  tenth  century,  that 
the  writers  of  literary  history  are  at  a  loss  for  words  to  paint 
the  ignorance,  stupidity,  and  barbarism  of  that  age." — (Book 
ii.  c.  4.  vol.  iv.  p.  6*7.) 

and  having,  in  proof  of  this,  referred  to  "  Cave  Histor. 
Literar.  p.  571,  Brucker  Hist.  Philosoph.  t.  3.  p.  G32," 
he  adds  on  the  next  page — 

"  The  clergy  in  this  age  were  almost  as  illiterate  as  the 
laity.      Some  who  filled  the  highest  stations  in  the  church 

1   Sec  No.  IV.  p.  43. 


NO.  VIII.]  OF    BISHOP    MEINWERC.  125 

could  not  so  much  as  read  ;  while  others,  who  pretended  to  be 
better  scholars,  and  attempted  to  perform  the  public  offices, 
committed  the  most  egregious  blunders ;  of  which  the  reader 
will  find  one  example,  out  of  man?/,  quoted  below.*1 

At  the  foot  of  the  page,  we  find  the  following- 
note  : — 

41  Meinwerc,  Bishop  of  Paderborn,  in  this  century,  in 
reading  the  public  prayers,  used  to  say,  — '  Benedic  Do- 
mine  regibus  et  reginis  mulis  et  mulabis  [sic]  tuis : — ' 
instead  of  '  famulis  et  famulabis ;  [sic] '  which  made  it  a 
very  ludicrous  petition.* — Leibniz  Coll.  Script.  Brunsicic,  t.  i. 
p.  5.55. 

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

And  yet,  to  say  the  truth,  when  I  consider  that  my 
inquiry  is  not  whether  there  were  any  ignorant,  stupid, 
incompetent  persons  in  the  dark  ages ;  but  whether 
there  were  not  some  of  a  different  character,  I  feel 
inclined  to  claim,  or  at  least  to  cross-examine,  this 
witness.  I  cannot  but  think  that  the  story,  even  as  it 
stands,  may  be  fairly  made  to  say  something  in  my 
favour.  If  the  bishop  did  make  this  blunder,  it  seems 
that  he  had,  at  least,  one  hearer  who  knew  that  it  was 
a  blunder,  and  who  thought  it  worth  while  to  note  it 
down  as  such ;  which,  moreover,  that  hearer  would 
hardly  have  done  if  conscious  that  he  was  the  only 
person  capable  of  seeing  its  absurdity.     Besides,  it'  this 


126  BISHOP    MEINWERC.  [NO.  VIII. 

is  only  "  one  example  out  of  many,"  there  must  have 
been  persons  in  various  places  equally  competent  to 
detect  such  errors ;  and  who,  like  the  critic  of  Pader- 
born,  thought  them  worth  recording.  So  that,  in  pro- 
portion as  the  recorded  blunders  of  this  kind  are 
numerous,  we  may  be  led  to  suspect  a  thicker  and 
more  extensive  sprinkle  of  better-instructed  persons. 
I  know  not  how  else  to  account  for  the  fact  that 
such  things  were  seen  and  recorded  as  errors ;  unless, 
indeed,  we  assume  the  existence  of  some  one  indi- 
vidual "  George  Seacoal,"  whose  reading  and  writing  in 
this  dark  age  came  "by  nature ;"  and  suppose  him  to 
have  circuited  about  with  "the  lanthorn"  which  he 
had  in  charge,  in  order  to  "  comprehend  all  vagrom 
men"  who  broke  the  bounds  of  grammar,  and  who  has 
certainly  acted  up  to  the  very  letter  of  his  instructions, 
by  letting  his  reading  and  writing  "  appear  where  there 
is  no  need  of  such  vanity;"  for  what  in  the  world  did 
it  matter  to  Bishop  Meinwerc's  flock  whether  he  said 
mulls  or  famidis,  if  neither  he  nor  they  knew  the  dif- 
ference ? 

We  cannot,  however,  well  understand  this  story 
without  paying  some  attention  to  the  circumstances  of 
the  bishop ;  and  it  is  quite  within  the  limits — indeed 
in  the  very  heart — of  our  subject,  to  inquire  into  the 
proceedings  of  any  prelate  who  was  born  in  the  tenth 
century,  though  not  (as  Henry  makes  him)  a  bishop 
until  the  eleventh.  I  might  fairly  inflict  on  the  reader 
a  long  pedigree,  and  trace  up  the  Bishop  of  Paderborn 
to  the  great  Duke  Witikind  ;  but  it  may  suffice  for  our 
present  purpose  to  say,  that  he  was  born  in  the  reign  of 
the  Emperor  Otho  II.,  and  was  his  second  cousin  once 
removed  ;  Theoderic,  the  father  of  the  Empress  Ma- 
tilda, the  wife  of  Henry  the  Fowler,  being  their  com- 
mon ancestor.  His  father,  [med,  intending  that  Thie- 
deric,  the  elder  of  his  two  sons,  should  succeed  him  in 


XO.  VIII.]  BISHOP    MEINWERC.  127 

his  honours  and  possessions,  devoted  Meinwerc,  at  an 
early  age,  to  the  clerical  function,  and  offered  him,  in 
his  childhood,  in  the  Church  of  St.  Stephen,  at  Halber- 
stadt.  There  he  received  the  first  rudiments  of  his 
education  ;  but  was  afterwards  removed  to  Hildesheim, 
where,  among  many  other  school-fellows,  who  after- 
wards took  a  leading  part  in  the  world,  he  had  his  third 
cousin,  Henry,  Duke  of  Bavaria,  afterwards  Emperor, 
better  known  under  the  title  of  St.  Henry  \ 

Otho  II.  died  in  a.d.  983,  and  was  succeeded  by  his 
son,  Otho  III.;  who  called  his  kinsman,  Meinwerc,  to 
court,  and  made  him  his  chaplain.  In  this  situation 
he  is  said  to  have  been  esteemed  and  respected  by  all, 
and  particularly  beloved  by  his  royal  master  and  cousin, 
who  enriched  him  with  most  liberal  presents,  in  proof 
of  his  affection — "  quod  videlicet  suam  vitam  diligeret 
ut  propriam."  On  the  death  of  that  Emperor,  in 
a.d.  1002,  among  many  candidates  for  the  empire,  the 
successful  one  was  Henry  of  Bavaria,  who  was  related 
to  Meinwerc  in  precisely  the  same  degree  as  his 
predecessor  in  the  empire  had  been,  and  who  was  per- 
haps bound  to  him  by  what  is  often  the  closer  and 


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


128  BISHOP    MEINWERC.  [NO.  VIII. 

stronger  tie  of  school-fellowship.  The  chaplain  became 
the  inseparable  companion  of  his  royal  master — "  de 
Karo  fit  Karissimus ;  factusque  est  ei  in  negotiis  pub- 
licis  et  privatis  comes  irremotissimus." 

After  some  time — that  is  to  say,  in  the  year  1009 — 
the  see  of  Paderborn  became  vacant  by  the  death  of 
Rhetarius,  who  had  been  bishop  for  twenty  years. 
Messengers  from  the  church  announced  the  fact  to  the 
emperor,  who  was  then  at  Goslar,  and  prayed  him  to 
appoint  a  successor.  This,  however,  was  not  so  easy  a 
matter  ;  for,  about  nine  years  before,  the  city  of  Pader- 
born had  been  burned  ;  and  the  noble  monastery,  con- 
taining the  cathedral,  had  been  all  but  entirely  de- 
stroyed. Rhetarius  had,  indeed,  done  what  he  could 
with  the  pope,  and  the  Emperor  Otho  III.;  and  had 
obtained  from  them  (what  was,  no  doubt,  very  impor- 
tant as  far  as  it  went)  a  full  confirmation  to  the  church 
of  all  the  rights  and  property  which  it  had  possessed 
before  the  conflagration  ;  but  it  does  not  appear  that 
he  got  anything  from  them  towards  repairing  losses. 
When,  however,  Henry,  his  successor,  came  to  the 
throne  of  the  empire,  he  made  it  his  study  and  his 
business  to  advance  the  interests  of  the  church ;  and 
when  Rhetarius  applied  to  him,  he  gave  him  a  forest. 
When  he  came  at  another  time  to  beg  for  his  church, 
the  emperor  not  having  (as  the  historian  says  with 
great  simplicity)  at  the  moment  anything  which  he 
could  conveniently  give  him  (rege  autem  in  promptu 
quod  daret  non  habente),  his  chaplain,  Meinwerc,  gave 
his  royal  master  a  farm,  which  belonged  to  himself, 
which    the    emperor   immediately    transferred    to    the 


Still,  notwithstanding  the  exertions  of  Rhetarius,  the 
see  remained  in  a  state  of  wretched  poverty  as  long  as 
he  lived  ;  and  it  was  difficult  to  know  how  to  fill  up 
the   vacancy   occasioned  by   his  death.     The  emperor 


NO.  VIII.]  BISHOP    MEINWERC.  129 

having,  however,  convened  such  bishops  and  princes  as 
attended  him  at  Goslar,  consulted  with  them  as  to  the 
appointment  of  a  bishop  who  should  be  most  suited  to 
the  circumstances  of  time  and  place.  After  long  deli- 
beration, and  canvassing  the  merits  of  a  good  many 
persons,  all  agreed  that  Meinwerc  was  the  fittest  man. 
In  coming  to  this  decision,  they  were  avowedly  in- 
fluenced by  his  rank  and  wealth  ;  but  it  is  only  justice 
to  him  to  say,  that  I  find  nothing  against  his  moral 
character,  nor  even  any  thing  which  should  authorize 
me  to  say  that  he  had  not  a  true  zeal  for  God,  though 
it  might  not  be,  in  all  respects,  according  to  know- 
ledge. The  council,  however,  were  unanimous ;  and 
the  emperor  (faventibus  et  congratulantibus  omnibus) 
sent  for  the  chaplain  ;  and,  when  he  came,  smiling  with 
his  usual  kindness,  he  held  out  a  glove,  and  said — 
"  Take  this."  Meinwerc,  who  can  hardly  be  supposed 
to  have  been  quite  ignorant  of  what  was  going  on,  and 
who  understood  the  nature  of  the  symbol,  inquired 
what  he  was  to  take.  "  The  see  of  Paderborn,"  replied 
the  emperor.  The  chaplain,  with  all  the  freedom  of  a 
kinsman  and  old  school-fellow,  asked  his  royal  master 
how  he  could  suppose  that  he  wished  for  such  a 
bishopric,  when  he  had  property  enough  of  his  own  to 
endow  a  better.  The  emperor,  with  equal  frankness, 
replied  that  that  was  just  the  very  thing  that  he  was 
thinking  of — that  his  reason  for  selecting  him  was  that 
he  might  take  pity  on  that  desolate  church,  and  help  it 
in  its  need.  "Well,  then,"  said  Meinwerc,  heartily, 
"I  will  take  it  on  those  terms;"  and  then  and  there — 
namely,  at  Goslar,  on  the  next  Sunday,  being  the 
second  Sunday  in  Lent,  and  the  thirteenth  of  March, 
1009, — he  was  consecrated  Bishop  of  Paderborn,  by 
Willigisus,  Archbishop  of  Mentz,  and  the  other  bishops 
who  were  there. 

"  Being  therefore,"  says  his    biographer,  M  raised  to 

K 


130  BISHOP    MEINWERC.  [NO.  VIII. 

the  episcopal  office,  he  constantly  watched  over  the 
flock  committed  to  him ;  and,  fearing  lest  he  should 
incur  the  reproach  of  the  slothful  servant,  who  hid  his 
lord's  money  in  a  napkin,  he  did  nothing  remissly.  As 
to  external  duties,  in  the  general  government  of  the 
clergy  and  people,  he  laboured  diligently  with  heart  and 
body  in  his  episcopal  superintendence  ;  and,  as  to  in- 
ternal labours,  he  without  ceasing  made  intercession  to 
God  for  them  all,  by  watchings,  fastings,  and  the  sacri- 
fice of  prayers."  He  immediately  made  over  his  here- 
ditary property  to  the  see ;  and  on  the  third  day  after 
his  arrival  he  pulled  down  the  mean  beginnings  of  a 
cathedral,  which  his  predecessor  had  built  up,  and 
erected  one  at  great  expense,  and  with  singular  magni- 
ficence— sumptu  ingenti  et  magnificentia  singulari.  His 
personal  attention  to  the  work,  and  his  kindness  to  the 
workmen,  made  the  building  go  on  rapidly ;  and  he  did 
not  fail  to  call  upon  the  emperor,  who  frequently  came 
to  Paderborn,  and  took  great  interest  in  its  proceed- 
ings, for  his  full  share  of  the  expense ;  and  Henry 
and  his  empress,  Chunigunda,  contributed  largely  and 
willingly. 

A  circumstance  which  occurred  during  one  of  the 
emperor's  visits  tends  so  much  to  illustrate  the  cha- 
racter of  the  bishop,  and  of  the  times,  that  I  am  induced 
to  transcribe  it.  It  quite  belongs  to  our  subject;  and, 
indeed,  to  our  immediate  purpose,  so  far  as  it  shews 
that  Meinwerc  was  rather  a  severe  disciplinarian,  and 
that  if  he  performed  the  services  of  the  church  dis- 
reputably himself,  he  did  not  allow  others  to  do  it, 
or  even  to  run  the  risque  of  it,  with  impunity.  There 
was  in  those  days  an  eccentric  saint — or  the  church  of 
Rome  has  made  him  one  since — named  Heimrad. 
He  was  a  native  of  Swabia,  and,  as  far  as  I  know,  a 
good  sort  of  fanatic ;  who,  after  wandering  about,  and 
doing  a  great  many  strange  things,  settled  down  in  a 


NO.  VIII.]  BISHOP    MEINWERC.  131 

little  cell,  or  hut,  at  Hasungen.  Previously  to  this, 
however,  in  the  course  of  his  rambles,  he  came  to 
Paderborn,  and  suddenly  made  his  appearance  before 
the  bishop ;  who  being  startled  at  the  sight  of  his 
sickly  countenance  and  his  long  figure,  rendered  ghastly 
and  unsightly  by  fasting  and  rags,  inquired  whence 
"that  devil"  had  risen.  Heimrad  having  meekly 
replied  that  he  was  not  a  devil,  the  bishop  inquired  if 
he  was  a  priest ;  and  learning  that  he  had  that  day 
celebrated  mass,  he  immediately  ordered  that  the  books 
which  he  had  used  should  be  produced.  Finding  that 
they  were  written  in  a  slovenly  manner,  and  were  of 
no  value  (incomptos  et  neglectos  et  nullius  ponderis 
aut  pretii)  he  caused  them  to  be  immediately  put  in 
the  fire ;  and,  by  command  of  the  Empress,  who  sym- 
pathized with  the  "just  zeal"  of  the  bishop,  he  farther 
ordered  that  the  unlucky  priest  should  be  flogged. 

After  this,  Count  Dodico,  of  Warburg,  (a  person  of 
some  consequence  in  the  early  history  of  the  see  of 
Paderborn)  invited  the  bishop  to  keep  the  feast  of  St. 
Andrew,  at  his  castle  ;  and  on  the  very  eve  of  the 
festival,  whom  should  the  bishop  see  seated  opposite  to 
him,  at  supper,  but  this  identical  Heimrad.  He  was 
not  a  little  moved,  and  inquired  what  could  induce  a 
man  of  his  host's  respectability  to  keep  such  company  ; 
and  then,  breaking  out  into  severe  abuse  of  the  poor 
solitary,  he  called  him  a  crazy  apostate.  Heimrad  took 
it  all  very  quietly,  and  said  not  a  word ;  but  Count 
Dodico  began  to  apologize  to  the  bishop,  for  whom  he 
had  a  sincere  respect,  and  endeavoured  to  soothe  him 
by  assurances  that  he  had  no  idea  that  the  recluse  was 
in  any  way  offensive  to  him.  All  his  endeavours  were, 
however,  in  vain,  and  the  bishop  was  not  to  be  appeased. 
On  the  contrary,  he  declared  that  as  people  chose  to 
consider  Heimrad  as  a  saint,  he  would  put  him  to  the 
test;    and,   in    the  presence    of  all  the    company,  he 

k  2 


132  BISHOP    MEINWERC.  [NO.  VIII. 

ordered  that  he  should  sing  the  Hallelujah  at  mass  the 
next  day,  on  pain  of  being  flogged.  The  Count  at  first 
attempted  to  beg  him  off;  but  finding  that  he  only 
added  fuel  to  the  flame,  he  took  the  recluse  apart,  as 
soon  as  lauds  were  over,  and  endeavoured  to  console 
him.  He  besought  him  to  bear  this  trial  as  one  of 
those  which  are  appointed  for  the  purification  of  the 
saints — to  make  the  attempt,  beginning  in  the  name  of 
the  Trinity,  and  trusting  in  God  for  the  event.  Heimrad 
did  not  at  all  like  the  prospect,  and  earnestly  requested 
leave  to  creep  away  quietly  to  his  cell  at  Hasungen ; 
but  at  length,  overcome  by  the  Count's  entreaties,  he 
acquiesced.  When  the  time  came,  another  attempt 
was  made  to  beg  him  off;  but  the  bishop  continuing 
inexorable,  he*  began,  and  in  fact  chanted  the  whole 
with  such  propriety,  and  in  so  agreeable  a  manner,  that 
the  company  were  astonished,  and  declared  that  they 
had  never  heard  sweeter  modulation  from  any  man. 
The  bishop,  as  soon  as  mass  was  over,  taking  Heimrad 
aside,  fell  at  his  feet,  and  having  humbly  asked,  and 
quickly  obtained,  pardon  for  his  conduct  towards  him, 
became,  from  that  time  forth,  his  constant  and  faithful 
friend. 

But,  though  I  give  these  anecdotes  as  characteristic 
of  the  bishop  and  the  times,  and  therefore  illustrative 
of  our  subject,  it  will  be  more  immediately  to  our  pre- 
sent purpose  to  give  one  or  two  which  shew  the  terms 
on  which  the  bishop  stood  with  the  emperor,  and  some 
passages  which  occurred  between  them.  Those  terms 
cannot,  perhaps,  be  more  briefly  or  more  clearly  ex- 
plained, than  by  saying  that  these  two  schoolfellows 
still  behaved  to  each  other  rather  more  in  the  manner 
of  schoolboys  than  was  quite  becoming  in  a  bishop  and 
an  emperor,  as  will  appear ;  but  first,  let  me  premise 
that  from  the  time  when  he  became  Bishop  of  Pader- 
born,  Meinwerc  seems  to  have  devoted  himself — that 


NO.  VIII.]  BISHOP    MEINWERC.  133 

is,  his  property,  his  time,  his  thoughts,  words,  and 
deeds, — to  the  aggrandizement  of  his  see.  He  was,  his 
biographer  tells  us,  skilful  in  getting  all  that  was  to  be 
had,  as  well  as  faithful  in  taking  care  of  what  he  had 
got — "  in  acquirendis  utilis,  in  conservandis  fidelis3." 

As  to  the  latter  point,  many  stories  are  recorded 
which  shew  that  he  laboured  most  energetically  in 
conducting  the  affairs  of  his  diocese,  which  he  seems  to 
have  governed  with  an  extraordinary  degree  both  of 
severity  and  kindness,  so  as  to  have  been,  in  a  peculiar 
degree,  a  terror  to  evil  doers,  and  a  praise  to  those  who 
did  well.  He  superintended,  in  person,  the  buildings 
which  the  circumstances  already  mentioned  required, 
until  he  had  got  them  so  far  advanced  that  he  could  be 
spared  to  look  after  the  country  estates  of  the  diocese ; 
and  then  perpetually  visiting  them,  from  time  to  time, 
he  took  care  that  all  things  were  managed  decently  and 
in  order,  and  raised  the  serfs  to  a  degree  of  comfort 
which  they  had  not  before  enjoyed.  Once,  riding 
through  one  of  the  farms  belonging  to  the  bishopric,  he 
told  some  of  his  companions  to  ride  their  own,  or  to 
turn  some  loose,  horses  into  some  corn,  which  was 
being  thrashed  under  cover;  saying,  that  if  the  serfs 
were  faithful,  they  would  resist  them,  but  if  they  were 
unfaithful  to  the  steward,  they  would  rejoice  in  a  mis- 
chief which  would  bring  loss  upon  him.  The  serfs, 
however,  under  pretence  of  paying  their  obeisance  to 
the  bishop,  all  ran  away;  and  the  horses  began  to 
devour  and  trample  on  the  corn.     The  bishop  imme- 


3  It  might  perhaps  be  said  of  him,  as  it  was  of  an  abbot  of  much  the 
same  period — "  cum  esset  vir  strenuus,  et  suam  rempublicam  semper 
augmentare  toto  anhelaret  desiderio."— Mab.  A.  S.  torn.  vi.  p.  405.  Such 
hints  as  these  contain  a  good  deal,  and  are  a  key  to  a  good  deal  more,  and 
must  be  borne  in  mind  when  we  read  such  notes  as  I  have  adverted  to  in 
the  note,  p.  104,  about  carcass-hunting  bishops  who  wanted  "  to  amass 
riches."     What  did  they  want  them  for  ? 


134  BISHOP    MEINWERC.  [NO.  VIII. 

diately  taxed  the  labourers  with  their  want  of  faith, 
had  them  severely  flogged,  and  then  gave  them  an  un- 
commonly good  dinner  (ciborum  copiis  abundantissime 
reficiens),  and  a  paternal  admonition  on  fidelity  to  their 
master ;  all  which  together  had  so  excellent  an  effect, 
that  when  he  next  visited  the  place  he  found  himself 
shut  out  by  their  faithful  vigilance,  and  was  obliged  to 
make  his  way  into  the  premises  by  stealth.  Having 
done  so,  he  heard  the  woman  of  the  house  complaining 
that  the  labourers  on  that  farm  had  nothing  but  a  very 
spare  allowance  of  meal ;  whereupon  he  ordered  that 
two  of  the  gammons  of  bacon  which  the  steward  was 
bound  to  furnish  every  year  should  be  detained  for 
them. 

I  should  like  to  gossip  on  with  an  account  of  his 
visits  to  other  farms,  and  to  tell  how  he  once  got  into 
the  kitchen  of  his  monastery  by  himself,  and  investi- 
gated the  contents  of  the  pots  which  were  boiling  at 
the  fire,  in  order  to  see  that  his  monks  had  proper 
food ;  and  how,  at  another  time,  he  went  there  in  a  lay 
habit,  to  have  a  little  chat  on  the  same  subject  with 
the  cook,  who,  in  reply  to  his  inquiries,  informed  him 
that  the  living  there  was  very  good  as  concerning  the 
soul,  but  very  poor  in  respect  of  the  body ;  and  how — 
for  he  seems  always  to  have  been  on  the  alert — he 
went  through  his  diocese  in  the  disguise  of  a  pedlar,  in 
order  that  he  might  see  for  himself  how  things  were 
going  on.  I  should  like,  I  say,  to  transcribe  some  of 
these  anecdotes,  for  they  are  really — not  like  some 
which  we  find  produced  as  such — characteristic  of  the 
times ;  but  I  am  afraid  of  being  tedious ;  and  whatever 
might  be  his  care  in  preserving,  it  is  more  to  our  pur- 
pose to  shew  that  he  was  diligent  in  acquiring.  In  that 
matter,  he  did  not  spare  his  imperial  schoolfellow. 
Indeed,  there  seems  to  have  been  an  understanding — 
or,  in  the  language  of  the  schools,  they  seem  to  have 


NO.  VIII.]  BISHOP    MEINVVERC.  135 

"  made  it  fair" — between  them,  that  the  bishop  should 
get  all  he  could  by  force  or  fraud,  and  that  in  return 
the  emperor  should  love  him  heartily,  growl  at  him 
occasionally,  and  now  and  then  make  a  fool  of  him. 
As  to  the  latter  point,  however,  the  emperor  seems 
generally  to  have  had  the  worst  of  it  in  the  long  run, 
as  will  appear  from  one  or  two  instances. 

Once,  when  Henry  was  going  to  hear  mass  at  the 
cathedral,  he  ordered  the  altar  to  be  decked  with  the 
costly  apparatus  of  royalty,  and  bade  his  people  keep  a 
sharp  look-out,  lest  the  bishop  should  get  hold  of  any- 
thing, as  he  was  very  apt  to  do.  Meinwerc  said  mass 
himself,  and  after  the  Agnus  Dei,  he  entered  the  pulpit, 
and  began  to  discuss  the  difference  between  the  imperial 
and  sacerdotal  dignity,  and  the  superiority  of  the  latter, 
affirming  that  matters  of  divine  right  were  above  human 
authority,  and  shewing  by  the  canons  that  whatsoever 
was  consecrated  to  the  uses  of  divine  service  was  under 
the  sacerdotal  jurisdiction.  He  therefore  put  under  a 
bann  all  the  ecclesiastical  ornaments  and  priestly  vest- 
ments which  had  just  been  used,  and  threatened  with 
excommunication  any  person  who  should  remove  them. 

On  another  occasion,  the  emperor  sent  him,  after 
vespers,  his  own  golden  cup,  of  exquisite  workmanship, 
full  of  drink  4,  charging  the  messenger  not  to  see  his 
face  again  without  the  cup.  The  bishop  received  the 
present  with  many  thanks,  and  got  the  messenger  into 
a  long  chat,  during  which  he  seems  to  have  forgotten 
the  business  which  brought  him  there,  and  the  emperor's 
charge — at  least,  somehow  or  other,  he  went  away 
without  the  cup — and  the  bishop,  taking  care  to  have 
the  doors  fastened  after  him,  sent  immediately  for  his 


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


136  BISHOP    MEINWERC.  [NO.  VIII. 

goldsmiths,  Brunhard,  and  his  son,  Erpho,  and,  in  the 
course  of  the  night,  which  immediately  preceded  Christ- 
mas-day, the  cup  was  converted  into  a  chalice.  One  of 
the  emperor's  chaplains,  who  officiated  as  sub-deacon 
at  mass  the  next  day,  recognized  the  cup,  and  took  it 
to  the  emperor,  who  charged  the  bishop  with  theft,  and 
told  him  that  God  abhorred  robbery  for  burnt  offering. 
Meinwerc  replied  that  he  had  only  robbed  the  vanity 
and  avarice  of  Henry,  by  consecrating  their  subject  to 
the  service  of  God;  and  dared  him  to  take  it  away. 
"  I  will  not,"  said  the  emperor,  "  take  away  that  which 
has  been  devoted  to  the  service  of  God;  but  I  will 
myself  humbly  offer  to  him  that  which  is  my  own  pro- 
perty ;  and  do  you  honour  the  Lord,  who  vouchsafed 
as  on  this  night  to  be  born  for  the  salvation  of  all  men, 
by  the  performance  of  your  own  duties." 

At  another  time,  the  emperor  had  a  mantle  of  mar- 
vellous beauty,  and  exquisite  workmanship.  Meinwerc 
had  often  begged  it  for  his  church  in  vain ;  and  there- 
fore, on  one  occasion,  when  the  emperor  was  intent  on 
some  particular  business,  he  fairly  snatched  it  from  his 
person,  and  made  off  with  it.  The  emperor  charged 
him  with  robbery,  and  threatened  to  pay  him  off  for  it 
some  time  or  other.  Meinwerc  replied  that  it  was 
much  more  proper  that  such  a  mantle  should  hang  in 
the  temple  of  God,  than  on  his  mortal  body,  and  that 
he  did  not  care  for  his  threats.  They  were,  however, 
carried  into  execution  in  the  following  manner : — "  The 
emperor  knowing  that  the  bishop,  being  occupied  in 
a  great  variety  of  secular  business,  was  now  and  then 
guilty  of  a  barbarism,  both  in  speaking  and  in  reading 
Latin,  with  the  help  of  his  chaplain  effaced  the  syllable 
fa  from  the  words  famulis  and  famulabus,  which  form 
part  of  a  collect  in  the  service  for  the  defunct,  in  the 
missal ;  and  then  called  on  the  bishop  to  say  a  mass  for 
the  souls  of  his  father  and  mother.     Meinwerc,  there- 


NO.  VIII.]  BISHOP    MEINWERC.  137 

fore,  being  unexpectedly  called  on  to  perform  the  ser- 
vice, and  hastening  to  do  it,  read  on  as  he  found  writ- 
ten, mulis  and  mulabus,  but,  perceiving  the  mistake,  he 
repeated  the  words  correctly.  After  mass,  the  emperor 
said,  in  a  sarcastic  manner,  to  the  bishop,  '  I  asked  you 
to  say  mass  for  my  father  and  mother,  not  for  my  male 
and  female  mules.'  But  he  replied,  ■  By  the  mother  of 
our  Lord,  you  have  been  at  your  old  tricks,  and  have 
made  a  fool  of  me  again ;  and  now,  in  no  common  way, 
but  in  the  service  of  our  God.  This  he  who  is  my 
Judge  has  declared  that  he  will  avenge ;  for  that  which 
is  done  to  him  he  will  not  pass  by  unpunished.'  There- 
upon, he  immediately  convened  the  canons  in  the  chap- 
ter-house of  the  cathedral,  ordered  the  emperor's  chap- 
lain, who  had  been  a  party  to  the  trick,  to  be  most 
severely  flogged ;  and  then,  having  dressed  him  in  new 
clothes,  sent  him  back  to  the  emperor  to  tell  him  what 
had  happened 5." 

And  here,  good  reader,  you  have,  I  believe,  the  whole 
and  sole  foundation  for  the  notable  story  of  Bishop 
Meinwerc  and  his  mules.     If  you  have  been  at  church 


5  "  Sciens  autem  Imperator,  episcopum  ssecularibus  negotiis  multiplici- 
ter  occupatum,  tam  latinitatis  locutione  quam  in  lectione  barbarismi  vitia 
non  semel  incurrere,  de  missali  in  quadam  collecta  pro  defunctis,  fa  de 
famulis,  etfamulabus,  cum  capellano  suo  delevit,  et  episcopum  pro  requie 
animarum  patris  sui  et  matris  missam  celebrare  rogavit.  Episcopus  igitur 
ex  improviso  missam  celebrare  accelerans,  ut  scriptum  reperit  mulis  et 
mulabus  dixit;  sed  errorem  recognoscens,  repetitis  verbis,  quod  male  dixe- 
rat,  correxit.  Post  missam  insultans  Imperator  Pontifici,  'Ego/  inquit, 
'  Patri  meo  et  matri,  non  mulis  et  mulabus  meis  missam  celebrari  rogavi.' 
At  ille,  '  Per  matrem/  ait,  '  Domini,  tu  more  solito  iterum  illusisti  mihi, 
et  non  quoquo  modo,  verum  in  Dei  nostri  servitio.  Cujus  ero  vindex,  en 
promittit  meus  judex.  Namque  sibi  factum  non  pertransibit  inultum.' 
Illico  canonicis  in  capitolium  principalis  ecclesiae  convocatis,  capellanum 
Imperatoris,  hujus  rei  conscium,  durissime  verberibus  castigari  jussit,  cas- 
tigatumque  novis  vestibus  indutum  ad  Imperatorem,  nuntiaturum  quae 
facta  fuerant,  remisit."  I  suspect  that  the  reply  of  Meinwerc,  from  the 
word  "  Cujus,"  &c.  is  a  quotation  from  some  hymn ;  though  it  is  printed 
like  prose,  and  certainly  can  hardly  be  called  verse. 


138  BISHOP    MEINWERC.  [NO.  VIII. 

as  often  as  you  should  have  been  in  these  five  years 
past,  perhaps  you  have  heard  King  George  prayed  for 
by  men  who  were  neither  stupid  nor  careless ;  but  who 
were  officiating  from  a  book  which  had  not  been  cor- 
rected. I  am  sure  I  have  heard  it  within  these  six 
months; — but  there  is  no  need  to  apologize  for  the 
bishop. 

"  Oh  !  but  he  '  used  to  say'  this."  Well,  that  is  one 
of  those  things  which,  as  they  admit  of  only  one  reply, 
very  commonly  receive  none  at  all  from  civil  people. 
"  But  it  is  only  '  one  example  out  of  many" '  Perhaps 
so ;  but  I  really  do  not  recollect  any  story  like  it, 
except  the  notorious  mumpsimus,  and  one  which  looks 
almost  like  another  version  of  what  we  have  just  had, 
and  which  I  know  only  from  its  being  quoted  by 
Lomeier 6,  in  connexion  with  another  dark-age  anec- 
dote which  is  too  good  to  be  passed  by,  and  which 
shews,  in  dismal  colours,  the  horrible  ignorance  of  the 
clergy.  "A  certain  bishop,  named  Otto,  is  said  to 
have  recommended  a  clerk  to  another  bishop  for  an 
ecclesiastical  office  in  these  terms — '  Otto  Dei  gratia, 
rocj'at  vestram  clementiam,  id  velitis  istum  clericum  condu- 
cere  ad  vestrum  diaconum.9  The  words  being  abbrevi- 
ated, the  clerk,  who  was  directed  to  read  it  to  the 
bishop,  read  thus : — '  Otto  Dei  gram  rogat  vestram  clam, 
id  velit  istum  clincum  clancum  convcrtere  in  vivum  diabo- 

6  De  Bibliothecis,  cap.  viii.,  de  Bibliothecis  sub  ipsa  barbarie,  p.  147. 
[It  is  a  pity  not  to  have  as  many  such  good  stories  as  we  can,  and  there- 
fore I  add  one  which  I  have  met  with  since  I  wrote  the  foregoing  para- 
graph. Bruno,  in  his  account  of  the  Emperor  Henry  IV.,  who  reigned 
from  a.d.  1056  to  a.d.  1106,  tells  us,  that  among  his  other  wicked  deeds, 
he  appointed  to  the  see  of  Bamberg  (tarn  rebus  exterius  divitem,  quam 
sapientibus  personis  intus  venerabilem)  an  ignoramus,  who  read  out  in 
divine  service  (coram  sapientibus  clericis)  that  the  earth,  instead  of  being 
void,  vacua,  was  a  cow,  vacca.  "  Ipse,"  adds  the  indignant  historian, 
"  nimirum,  licet  bipes,  vacca  bruta  et  omni  probitate  vacua." — {Saxon. 
Belli  Hist.  ap.  Freh.  Ger.  Rer.  Scr.  Tom.  I.  p.  179;  old  Ed.  p.  105.) 
Surely  there  must  have  been  some  critical  ears  in  those  days.] 


NO.  VIII.]  BISHOP    MEINWERC.  139 

htm.9 "  The  other  story  is  of  a  clerk,  who  turned 
Sueno,  king  of  Norway,  into  a  mule  by  the  same  mis- 
take as  Meinwerc's.  As  to  the  truth  or  falsehood  of 
these  statements,  I  have  never  inquired ;  and  I  have 
not,  at  present,  the  means  of  consulting  the  author  to 
whom  Lomeier  refers. 

But  is  it  not  lamentable  that  learned  men  should 
credit  and  circulate  such  stories?  I  do  not  mean 
Henry 7 ;  for,  notwithstanding  what  he  says,  and  what 
I  have  quoted  at  the  head  of  this  paper,  I  do  not 
believe  that  he  really  took  the  story  from  the  book  to 
which  he  refers.  I  think  I  know  where  he  picked  it 
up ;  and  I  believe  it  is  more  charitable — at  least  it  is 
imputing  what  is,  of  the  two,  least  disgraceful — to 
suppose  that  he  took  the  story  (notwithstanding  his 
profession  quoted  as  the  motto  to  this  paper)  from  a 
respectable  writer,  than  to  suppose  that  he  made  up 
the  falsehood  himself  from  such  an  original  as  he  refers 
to,  and  I  have  just  transcribed.  He  had  (as  I  have 
stated  near  the  beginning  of  this  paper)  almost  imme- 
diately before  quoted  page  632  of  the  third  volume  of 
Brucker's  History  of  Philosophy,  and  on  the  634th 
page  of  that  volume,  and  in  the  section  entitled 
"  Facies  literarum  et  philosophise  sseculo  X.,"  stands 
this  very  story  of  Meinwerc  in  these  terms — "  Mein- 
wercum  episcopum  Paderbornensem  ne  recte  legere 
quidem  potuisse,  et  in  psalterio  legisse:  Benedic  Do- 
mine  regibus  et  reginis  mulis  et  mulabus  tuis,  pro  famulis 
et  famulabus  tuis."  Brucker's  reference  is,  "  In  eius 
vita  in  Leibniz.  Coll.  Script.  Brunsuic.  T.  I.  p.  odd." 
And,  really,  if  it  were  in  any  way  possible,  I  should 


7  And  still  less  Mr.  Andrews,  already  introduced  to  the  reader  as  a 
retailer  of  such  things.  He  prefaces  this  perverted  story  by  saying,  M  The 
prelates  set  examples  of  the  most  gross  want  of  common  literature. 
Mein-Aan/,  Bishop  of  Paderborn,  used  to  read,"  &c.  Yet  he  gives  no  refer- 
ence but  to  the  original.     Does  anybody  believe  that  he  had  seen  it  ? 


140  BISHOP    MEINWERC.  [\0.  VIII. 

believe  that  Brucker  had  had  some  other  edition,  or 
some  other  authority,  for  the  story.  He  tells  us,  that 
it  was  in  the  psalter,  and  affects  to  give  us  the  words. 
Henry  seems  to  have  been  sensible  of  the  absurdity  of 
this ;  and,  not  knowing  what  particular  part  to  substi- 
tute, he  says,  it  was  "  in  the  public  prayers."  I  speak 
thus,  because  I  cannot  doubt  that  he  took  it  from 
Brucker,  though  not  perhaps  immediately;  and  my 
belief  is  strengthened  by  a  trifling  circumstance,  which 
is  perhaps  worth  mentioning,  because  it  is  desirable 
to  trace  error  when  we  can.  Who  has  not  heard  of 
Leibnitz  ?  Thousands  have  known  the  philosopher  by 
name  or  character,  who  never  took  the  trouble  to  learn 
that  he  was  librarian  of  the  Royal  and  Electoral  Library 
of  Brunswick-Luneburg,  and  who  never  had  the  plea- 
sure of  reading  his  three  folios  containing  the  "  Scrip- 
tores  Rerum  Brunsvicensium  illustrationi  inservientes ;" 
— his  name  is  familiar ;  but  how  often  have  they  seen 
it  spelt  (by  any  writer  of  English,  to  say  the  least) 
without  a  t  ?  He  calls  himself,  on  the  title-page  of  this 
work,  "  Leibnitius ;"  and  I  do  not  remember  ever  to 
have  seen  his  name  without  the  t,  except  in  this  very 
volume  of  Brucker,  and  in  Henry's  reference. 

I  must,  however,  notice,  that  Brucker  adds  to  his 
account  of  the  matter,  "  unde  vix  credi  potest  quod 
idem  vitse  Meinwerci  scriptor  refert,  '  studiorum  midti- 
plicia  sub  eo  floruisse  exercitia,  et  bonce  indolis  juvenes  et 
pueros  strenue  fuisse  institutes? "  Incredible  as  this 
might  appear  to  Brucker,  it  is  certainly  true  that  the 
same  authority  which  tells  us  that  Meinwerc  was 
guilty  of  occasional  barbarisms  in  speaking  and  reading 
Latin,  (which  implies  that  he  was  not  unfrequently 
called  on  to  do  both,)  also  assures  us  that  he  was 
a  promoter  of  education.  Indeed,  the  foolish  trick 
which  has  given  rise  to  all  this  discussion,  was  not 
such    as    to    have    been    worth    playing,    or    as    was 


NO.  IX.]  THE    FEAST    OF    THE    ASS.  141 

likely  to  have  been  even  thought  of,  among  perfectly 
illiterate  barbarians.  What  wit  or  fun  could  there  be 
in  leading  a  man  into  a  blunder,  which  nobody  could 
know  to  be  a  blunder  ?  The  same  authority  tells  us, 
that  the  schools  of  Paderborn,  then  founded,  became 
more  famous  in  the  time  of  Imadus,  who  was  the 
nephew  and  successor  of  Meinwerc,  and  brought  up  by 
him ;  "  sub  quo  in  Patherbornensi  ecclesia  publica  flo- 
ruerunt  studia :  quando  ibi  musici  fuerunt  et  dialectici, 
enituerunt  rhetorici,  clarique  grammatici ;  quando  ma- 
gi stri  artium  exercebant  trivium,  quibus  omne  studium 
erat  circa  quadrivium  ;  ubi  mathematici  claruerunt  et 
astronomici,  habebantur  pht/sici,  et  geometrici :  viguit 
Horatius,  magnus  et  Virgilius,  Crispus  ac  Salustius  et 
Urbanus  Statins :  Ludusque  fuit  omnibus  insudare  ver- 
sibus,  et  dictaminibus  jocundisque  cantibus.  Quorum 
in  script ura  et  pictura  jugis  instantia  claret  multipliciter 
hodierna  experientia ;  dum  studium  nobilium  clerico- 
rum  usu  perpenditur  utilium  librorum."  Make  what 
allowance  you  like  for  exaggeration,  but  let  the  words 
have  some  meaning ;  and  if  you  do  this  you  will  never 
be  able  to  make  them  square  with  the  letter,  still  less 
with  the  spirit,  of  these  absurd  stories. 


No.  IX. 


LI.  Attate  !  modo  hercle  in  mentem  venit. 
Nimis  vellem  habere  perticam.     LE.  Quoi  rei  ?     LI.  Qui  verberarem 
Asinos." — Plautus. 

There  is  one  of  Robertson's  proofs  and  illustrations, 
which  I  intended  to  notice,  but  I  really  forgot  it  when 
I  passed  on  to  Henry's  history  of  England — a  blunder 
the  more  stupid,  because  it  is  another  note  immediately 
following  the  note  respecting  St.  Eloy ;  and  I  actually 


142  THE    FEAST    OF    THE    ASS.  [NO.  IX. 

quoted  the  text  to  which  it  belongs,  and  in  which 
Robertson  tells  us,  that  "  the  external  ceremonies, 
which  then  formed  the  whole  of  religion,  were  either 
so  unmeaning  as  to  be  altogether  unworthy  of  the 
Being  to  whose  honour  they  were  consecrated,  or  so 
absurd  as  to  be  a  disgrace  to  reason  and  humanity." 
The  note  is  as  follows : — 

"  It  is  no  inconsiderable  misfortune  to  the  church  of  Rome, 
whose  doctrine  of  infallibility  renders  all  such  institutions  and 
ceremonies  as  have  been  once  universally  received  immutable 
and  everlasting,  that  she  must  continue  to  observe  in  enlight- 
ened times  those  rites  which  were  introduced  during  the  ages 
of  darkness  and  credulity.  What  delighted  and  edified  the 
latter,  must  disgust  and  shock  the  former.  Many  of  these 
rites  appear  manifestly  to  have  been  introduced  by  a  super- 
stition of  the  lowest  and  most  illiberal  species.  Many  of 
them  were  borrowed,  with  little  variation,  from  the  religious 
ceremonies  established  among  the  ancient  heathens.  Some 
wrere  so  ridiculous,  that,  if  every  age  did  not  furnish  instances 
of  the  fascinating  influence  of  superstition,  as  well  as  of  the 
whimsical  forms  which  it  assumes,  it  must  appear  incredible 
that  they  should  ever  be  received  or  tolerated.  In  several 
churches  of  France,  they  celebrated  a  festival  in  commemo- 
ration of  the  Virgin  Mary's  flight  into  Egypt.  It  was  called 
the  feast  of  the  Ass.  A  young  girl  richly  dressed,  with  a 
child  in  her  arms,  was  set  upon  an  ass  superbly  caparisoned. 
The  ass  was  led  to  the  altar  in  solemn  procession.  High 
mass  was  said  with  great  pomp.  The  ass  was  taught  to 
kneel  at  proper  places ;  a  hymn  no  less  childish  than  impious 
was  sung  in  his  praise :  And,  when  the  ceremony  was  ended, 
the  priest,  instead  of  the  usual  words  with  which  he  dismissed 
the  people,  brayed  three  times  like  an  ass ;  and  the  people, 
instead  of  their  usual  response,  We  bless  the  Lord,  brayed 
three  times  in  the  same  manner.  Du  Cange,  voc.  Festum.  v. 
iii.  p.  424.  This  ridiculous  ceremony  was  not,  like  the  fes- 
tival of  fools,  and  some  other  pageants  of  those  ages,  a  mere 
farcical  entertainment  exhibited  in  a  church,  and  mingled,  as 
was  then  the  custom,  with  an  imitation  of  some  religious 
rites ;  it  was  an  act  of  devotion,  performed  by  the  ministers 
of  religion,  and  by  the  authority  of  the  church.      However 


NO.  IX.]  THE    FEAST    OF    THE    ASS.  143 

as  this  practice  did  not  prevail  universally  in  the  Catholic 
church,  its  absurdity  contributed  at  last  to  abolish  it." — 
p.  237. 

I  copy  this  note,  not  so  much  as  a  specimen  of  broad, 
barefaced  falsehood,  or  gross  mistake,  such  as  I  have 
before  presented  to  the  reader's  notice, — though,  as  it 
regards  the  misrepresentation  of  facts,  it  is  worth  look- 
ing at, — as  for  some  other  reasons,  which  will,  I  hope, 
appear  satisfactory. 

First,  however,  as  to  the  fact, — which  it  is  always 
well  to  examine  in  such  cases, — that  is,  in  all  "  won- 
derful-if-true"  stories,  told  by  persons  of  whose  know- 
ledge or  veracity  we  have  any  doubt.  The  reader  is 
welcome  to  put  this  rule  in  practice  with  regard  to 
myself,  and  my  communication,  for  he  may  naturally 
be  somewhat  incredulous  when  I  tell  him,  that  the 
Feast  of  the  Ass  was  not  "  a  festival  in  commemora- 
tion of  the  Virgin  Mary's  flight  into  Egypt," — that 
the  Virgin  Mary  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  matter, 
and,  so  far  as  appears,  was  not  even  mentioned  in  it, — 
and  that  the  Ass  from  whom  the  festival  derived  its 
name  was  not  that  on  which  she  fled  into  Egypt,  (if, 
indeed,  any  such  ass  ever  existed,)  but  the  ass  of 
Balaam.  Of  this  whoever  pleases  may  satisfy  himself 
by  turning  to  Du  Cange,  as  cited  by  Robertson. 

Secondly,  as  to  the  fact. — Though  Robertson  cites 
Du  Cange,  it  is  not  for  the  Feast  of  the  Ass,  but  for 
the  story  about  the  "  young  girl  richly  dressed,"  &c. ; 
which  (though  Robertson  has  confounded  the  two 
things)  had  nothing  whatever  to  do  with  the  Feast  of 
the  Ass,  and  is  not  mentioned,  or  even  alluded  to,  by 
Du  Cange.  I  do  not  mean  to  be  hypercritical,  or 
quibbling.  There  is  an  account  of  this  folly  at  the 
volume  and  page  of  the  book  which  we  may  familiarly 
call  M  Du  Cange," — that  is,  the  Benedictine  edition  of 


144  THE    FEAST    OF    THE    ASS.  [NO.  IX. 

Du  Cange's  Glossary,  which  expanded  his  three  folios 
into  ten, — but  it  is  important  to  observe,  that  the 
account  of  this  custom  formed  no  part  of  the  original 
work;  and  that,  therefore,  the  custom  itself  may  be 
presumed  to  have  been  unknown  to  Du  Cange;  and 
how  far  any  thing  of  that  kind,  which  was  at  all 
general,  or  of  long  standing,  was  likely  to  have  escaped 
him,  those  who  are  even  slightly  acquainted  with  his 
Glossary  will  be  able  to  judge. 

Thirdly,  as  to  the  fact, — Du  Cange  does  give,  from 
the  Ordinal  of  the  Cathedral  of  Rouen,  the  office  (or 
more  properly,  the  rubric — or,  more  properly  still,  the 
stage-directions  of  the  office)  appointed  for  the  Feast 
of  Asses ;  which  was  a  sort  of  interlude  performed  in 
some  churches  at  Christmas.  I  do  not  know  whether 
it  would  be  possible  now  to  learn  what  was  said  or  sung 
by  the  various  characters,  as  the  account  of  Du  Cange 
contains  only  the  rubric,  and  the  initiatory  words  of 
each  part;  but  the  dramatis  personse  appear  to  have 
been  numerous  and  miscellaneous ;  and  I  can  only 
account  for  the  total  absence  of  the  Virgin  Mary,  by 
supposing  that  it  arose  from  superior  respect.  There 
were  Jews  and  Gentiles  as  the  representatives  of  their 
several  bodies,  Moses  and  Aaron,  and  the  Prophets, 
Virgilius  Maro,  Nebuchadnezzar,  the  Sibyll,  &c.  Among 
them,  however,  was  Balaam  on  his  ass ;  and  this  (not, 
one  would  think,  the  most  important  or  striking  part 
of  the  show)  seems  to  have  suited  the  popular  taste, 
and  given  the  name  to  the  whole  performance  and 
festival.  I  should  have  supposed,  that  Nebuchadnezzar's 
delivering  over  the  three  children  to  his  armed  men, 
and  their  burning  them  in  a  furnace  made  on  purpose 
in  the  middle  of  the  church,  would  have  been  a  more 
imposing  part  of  the  spectacle;  but  I  pretend  not  to 
decide  in  matters  of  taste,  and  certainly  Balaam's  ass 


NO.  IX.]  THE    FEAST    OF    THE    ASS.  145 

appears  to  have  been  the  favourite1.  The  plan  of  the 
piece  seems  to  have  been,  that  each  of  the  persons  was 
called  out  in  his  turn  to  singf  or  sav  something  suitable 
to  his  character ;  and  among  others,  "  Balaam  ornatus 
sedens  super  asinam  (hinc  festo  nomen)  habens  calcaria, 
retineat  lora,  et  calcaribus  percutiat  asinam,  et  quidam 
juvenis,  tenens  gladium,  obstet  asince.  Quidam  sub  asina 
dicat,  Cur  me  calcaribus  miseram  sic  lseditis  ?  Hoc  dicta 
Angelas  ei  dicat,  Desine  Regis  Balac  praeceptum  perfi- 
cere.  Vocatores  Balaun,  Balaun,  esto  vaticinans.  Tunc 
Balaun  respondeat,  Exibit  ex  Jacob  rutilans,"  &c. 

I  am  afraid  that  some  persons  give  me  credit  for 
defending  a  good  deal  of  nonsense ;  and,  therefore,  let 
me  say  at  once,  that  I  am  not  going  to  defend  this.  I 
acknowledge  that  it  was  nonsense — nonsense  that  came 
very  near,  if  not  to  actual,  profaneness,  at  least  to  some- 
thing like  the  desecration  of  holy  things.  The  age, 
I  admit,  was  dark ;  the  performers  were  probably  igno- 
rant ;  in  short,  the  reader  may  say  what  he  pleases  of 
the  Feast  of  Asses,  and  of  all  the  animals,  biped  or 
other,  concerned  in  it,  if  he  will  only  bear  in  mind  one 
other  fact, — a  fact  almost  incredible,  perhaps,  to  those 
who  do  not  know  how  Robertson  muddled  the  chrono- 
logy of  his  proofs  and  illustrations,  yet  very  true, — 
namely,  that,  notwithstanding  all  he  had  said  about  the 
period  from  the  seventh  to  the  eleventh  century,  and  the 
immediate  connexion  about  heathen  converts  retaining 
their  barbarous  rites — notwithstanding  all  this,  the 
Ordinal  of  Rouen,  which  is  Du  Cange's  sole  authority 

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

L 


146  THE    FEAST    OF    THE    ASS.  [xo.  IX. 

on  the  subject,  is  a  IMS.  of  the  fifteenth  century.  How 
long  the  Feast  of  Asses  had  been  celebrated  at  that 
time  I  really  do  not  know;  and  I  shall  be  obliged  to 
anybody  who  will  tell  me 2 — nor  do  I  know  how  long 
it  was  suffered  to  continue — but  that  it  flourished  when 
this  MS.  was  written  seems  clear ;  and  to  bring  it 
forward  as  a  special  and  characteristic  sin  of  the  dark 
ages,  is  too  bad. 

Fourthly,  as  to  the  fact — Though  the  Feast  of  Asses 
had  nothing  to  do  with  the  flight  of  the  Virgin,  yet 
that  latter  event  was  celebrated,  it  appears,  in  some 
churches  in  the  diocese  of  Beauvais,  on  the  14th  of 
January,  with  some  of  the  absurdities  mentioned  by 
Robertson.  This,  at  least,  is  stated  by  the  editors  of 
Du  Cange ;  who  give  no  account  of  their  authority,  or 
any  idea  of  its  date,  except  that  for  the  "  hymn  no  less 
childish  than  impious"  which  they  quote,  they  say  that 
they  have  the  authority  of  a  MS.  five  hundred  years 
old ;  wThich  of  course  throws  the  matter  back  into  the 
thirteenth  century 3.  They  add,  that  the  same  silly 
ceremony  wTas  performed  in  the  diocese  of  Autun ;  but 
for  this  they  give  no  authority  at  all.     Such  appears  to 


2  The  following  passage  from  Warton's  History  of  Poetry  has  been 
cited  against  me  : — "  Grosthead,  bishop  of  Lincoln  in  the  eleventh  century, 
orders  his  dean  and  chapter  to  abolish  the  Festum  Asinorum,  cum  sit 
vanitate  plenum,  et  voluptatibus  spurcum,  which  used  to  be  annually  cele- 
brated in  Lincoln  Cathedral,  on  the  Feast  of  the  Circumcision.  Grossetesti 
Epistol.  xxxii.  apud  Browne's  Fascicul.  p.  331.  edit.  Lond.  I69O.  torn.  ii. 
Append.  And  p.  412."  Vol.  II.  p.  367.  Beside  the  general  issue  that 
Warton's  authority  in  such  matters  is  not  worth  a  rush,  it  may  be  pleaded 
in  this  particular  case,  first,  that  Bishop  Grosteste's  letter  does  not  belong 
to  the  eleventh,  but  the  thirteenth  century ;  and,  secondly,  that  it  says  not 
a  word  of  the  Feast  of  Asses,  but  only  of  the  Feast  of  Fools,  which  was  a 
totally  different  matter.  I  believe  that  this  blunder  is  corrected  in  the 
octavo  edition  of  Warton's  History,  published  in  1840. 

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


XO.  IX.]  THE    FEAST    OF    THE    ASS.  147 

have  been  the  extent  of  the  custom ;  as  to  its  duration 
I  am  unable  to  judge.  It  may  have  existed  through 
all  the  dark  ages,  but  I  do  not  remember  to  have  met 
with  any  trace  of  either  custom  ;  and  the  fact,  that 
neither  Du  Cange  nor  his  editors  appear  to  have 
known  of  their  earlier  existence,  is  ground  for  a  pre- 
sumption that  they  did  not,  in  fact,  exist  before  the 
times  which  have  been  mentioned. 

One  more  observation  as  to  the  fact — "  The  ass  was 
taught  to  kneel  at  proper  places."  I  must  say,  I  doubt 
it.  It  may  not  be  impossible,  but  I  suspect  it  is  very 
difficult,  to  make  that  class  of  animals  do  such  a  thing. 
Indeed,  I  think  the  reader  who  turns  to  Robertson's 
authority  will  agree  with  me  in  supposing,  that  he  was 
led  to  make  this  statement  merely  by  his  misunder- 
standing the  marginal  direction  annexed  to  one  verse 
of  the  hymn,  "hie  genuflectebatur" 

But  having  thus  observed  on  the  facts,  let  us  now 
notice  the  animus  and  the  modus; — the  facts  are,  as 
we  have  seen,  absurdly  misstated  ;  but  what  are  we 
to  say  of  the  design,  and  the  manner,  of  introducing 
those  facts?  It  is  really  necessary  to  say  very  little 
on  this  point,  though  it  is  principally  for  this  that 
the  matter  is  worth  noticing  at  all.  Who  can  help 
seeing  the  absurdity  of  introducing  this  asinine  business 
by  a  sober  reflection  on  the  practical  evils  of  assuming 
infallibility,  with  its  attributes  of  perpetuity  and  im- 
mutability ;  and  then  telling  us,  that  what  is  appa- 
rently given  as  an  example  (for  why,  else,  is  it  given 
at  all  ?)  never  was  general,  and  was,  after  a  while, 
abandoned.  But  what  is  the  obvious  animus/  Why 
did  not  Robertson,  instead  of  throwing  the  whole  odium 
of  this  nonsense  on  the  church,  tell  his  readers  that  this 
ass  was  patronized  by  the  people — that  he  was  the  pet 
of  the  laity — and  that,  with  natural  and  characteristic 
obstinacy,  and,  cheered  by  the  love  and  sympathy  of 

l2 


148 


THE    FEAST    OF    FOOLS. 


[no.  IX. 


his  lay  friends,  he  kept  his  ground  against  the  eccle- 
siastical powers  which  would  have  turned  him  out  of 
the  church  ?  Why  did  he  not  add  the  statement  of 
those  from  whom  he  borrowed  the  story — "  Haec  abo- 
lere  censuris  ecclesiasticis  non  semel  tentarunt  episcopi, 
sed  frustra,  altissimis  quippe  defixa  erat  radicibus  donee 
supremi  Senatus  accessit  auctoritas,  qua  tandem  hoc 
festum  suppressum  est"? 

Having  said  thus  much  of  Asses,  let  us  proceed  to 
speak  of  Fools.  Robertson  says,  just  in  the  wTay  of 
passing  allusion,  that  the  Feast  of  Asses  "  was  not, 
like  the  Festival  of  Fools,  and  some  other  pageants  of 
those  ages,  a  mere  farcical  entertainment,  exhibited  in  a 
church,  and  mingled,  as  was  then  the  custom,  with  an 
imitation  of  some  religious  rites."  In  saying  that  these 
festivals  differed,  Robertson  is  right.  The  Feast  of  the 
Ass,  and  the  more  ridiculous  custom  of  the  girl  at 
Beauvais,  which  he  describes,  were,  I  believe,  instituted 
by  Christians  in  a  comparatively  late  age  of  the  church. 
From  what  has  been  said,  at  least,  it  appears  that  the 
Feast  of  Asses  flourished  in  the  fifteenth,  and  the  other 
follies  in  the  thirteenth  century,  in  some  part  of  France. 
But  the  Feast  of  Fools  was  a  more  ancient  and  more 
widely  celebrated  festival ;  which  may,  perhaps,  be 
more  or  less  traced  in  all  ages  of  the  church,  and  in  all 
parts  of  Christendom.  Even  now,  I  suppose,  there  is 
hardly  a  parish  church  in  our  protestant  country  which 
does  not  annually  exhibit  some  trace  or  relic  of  it. 
Notwithstanding  the  decrees  of  Councils,  and  the 
homilies  of  Fathers,  the  Christmas  evergreen, — the 
viriditas  arborum, — which  they  denounced,  still  keeps 
its  ground. 

The  Feast  of  Fools  (the  Festum  Fat  novum,  or  Stulto- 
rum,)  was,  in  fact,  the  old  heathen  festival  of  the 
January  Calends.  Sonic  ingenious  persons  have  em- 
ployed themselves  in  shewing  that  every  ceremony  and 


NO.  IX.]  THE    FEAST    OF    FOOLS.  149 

observance  of  the  Romish  church  (that  is,  every  cere- 
mony and  observance  which  they  do  not  see  in  their 
own  day,  and  their  own  parish  church  or  meeting,)  is  a 
genuine  pagan  rite,  adopted  from  the  heathen.  Others, 
with  as  much  facility  and  truth,  prove  that  every  parti- 
cular is  Jewish.  I  have  neither  the  taste  nor  the  learn- 
ing required  for  such  an  undertaking,  and  if  I  had  it 
would  be  sadly  out  of  place  here.  The  same  persons 
would,  I  hope,  be  consistent  enough  to  admit  that 
the  people  of  the  dark  ages,  whatever  ceremonies  or 
observances  they  might  introduce,  did  not  borrow  either 
from  pagans  or  Jews — for  who  knew  the  classics — who 
read  the  bible — in  those  daAs?  So  it,  evidentlv,  is  not 
my  present  business ;  but  I  wish  that  some  one  would 
give  us  a  true  and  full  account  of  the  insinuation,  modi- 
fication, or  extirpation,  of  gentilisms  in  the  Christian 
church,  at  the  same  time  tracing  their  causes,  history, 
and  effects.  As  to  our  present  business,  however,  I 
will  pass  over  all  the  earlier  councils  and  fathers  4 ;  but 
as  I  should  wish  to  give  a  specimen  of  the  resistance 


4  The  reader  who  wishes  to  follow  out  this  subject  will  find  abundant 
indication  of  sources  by  referring  to  Du  Cange  in  v.  Kalenda ;  or  by 
looking  at  Bingham's  Antiquities,  b.  xvi.  ch.  iv.  sect.  17,  and  b.  xx.  ch.  i. 
sect.  4.  In  less  than  two  hours,  however,  he  may  become  pretty  well 
acquainted  with  this  part  of  the  subject  by  reading  the  Homily  of  Asterius 
which  is,  of  all  that  I  know,  the  thing  best  worth  reading,  and  which  he 
may  find  in  the  Bibliotheca  Patrum,  torn.  xiii.  p.  590,  of  the  Paris  ed.  of 
1633,  or  a  Latin  translation  of  it  in  Raynaud's  edition  of  Leo  Magnus. 
Next  to  this  in  value  (and  it  may  be  found  in  the  same  edition  of  Leo, 
and,  I  believe,  in  the  largest  Bib.  Pat.,  but  I  am  sorry  to  say  I  have  not 
the  means  of  ascertaining),  is  the  Homily  on  the  Circumcision,  by  Maxi- 
mus  Taurinensis,  at  p.  198  of  his  Homilies  ;  and  if  the  reader  has  Mabil- 
lon's  Museum  Italicum,  let  him  look  at  torn.  i.  par.  ii.  p.  17-  The  same 
edition  of  Leo  also  contains  the  sermons  of  Petrus  Chrysologus,  the  155th 
of  which  is  worth  reading.  These,  with  the  62nd  canon  of  the  council  in 
Trullo,  (Lab.  Cone.  vi.  1169,)  will,  I  think,  put  the  reader  in  possession  of 
most  that  is  known  on  the  subject.  It  may  seem  a  good  allowance  for 
two  hours ;  but,  in  fact,  I  might  have  said  one,  for  all  the  things  referred 
to  are  very  short. 


150  ST.  eloy's  sermon  on  [no.  IX. 

made  by  the  church  to  this  pagan  folly,  I  am  glad  to 
be  able  to  give  at  the  same  time  a  farther  extract  (it 
happens  to  be  the  immediate  continuation  of  what  I 
gave  at  p.  113)  from  the  well-known,  or  at  least  much 
talked-of,  sermon  of  St.  Eloy.  I  have  already  stated 
that,  about  the  year  640,  he  became  the  bishop  of  a 
people,  many  of  whom  were  newly  and  scarcely  con- 
verted from  heathenism.  If  I  carry  on  the  quotation 
a  few  lines  farther  than  the  matter  for  which  it  is 
especially  quoted,  and  the  immediate  subject  of  this 
paper  may  seem  to  require,  those  who  have  read  Nos. 
VI.  and  VII.,  and  who  at  all  understand  my  motive, 
and  the  drift  of  these  papers,  will  perceive  my  reason 
for  doing  so. 

"  Before  all  things,  however,  I  declare  and  testify  unto 
you,  that  you  should  observe  none  of  the  impious  customs  of 
the  pagans  ;  neither  sorcerers 5,  nor  diviners,  nor  soothsayers, 
nor  enchanters  ;  nor  must  you  presume  for  any  cause,  or  any 
sickness,  to  consult  or  inquire  of  them ;  for  he  who  commits 
this  sin  immediately  loses  the  sacrament  of  baptism.  In  like 
manner,  pay  no  attention  to  auguries  and  sneezings ;  and, 
when  you  are  on  a  journey,  do  not  mind  the  singing  of  cer- 
tain little  birds.  But,  whether  you  are  setting  out  on  a  jour- 
ney, or  beginning  any  other  work,  cross  yourself  in  the  name 
of  Christ,  and  say  the  Creed  and  the  Lord's  Prayer  with 
faith  and  devotion,  and  then  the  enemy  can  do  you  no  harm. 
Let  no  Christian  observe  the  day  on  which  he  leaves,  or 
returns,  home ;  for  God  made  all  the  days.  Let  none  regu- 
late the  beginning  of  any  piece  of  work  by  the  day,  or  by 
the  moon.  Let  none  on  the  Calends  of  January  join  in  the 
wicked  and  ridiculous  things,  the  dressing  like  old  women, 


5  The  following  note  was  appended  by  Mr.  Rose  to  this  passage: — "  If 
any  one  will  take  the  trouble  to  refer  to  the  writers  of  the  eleventh  cen- 
tury, especially  Peter  of  Blois,  he  will  find  a  constant  condemnation  of 
superstitious  usages  and  customs ;  and  if  he  will  go  back  much  farther,  to 
Theodore's  Panitentiale,  in  the  seventh  century,  he  will  find  the  same 
doctrine.— Ed." 


NO.  IX.]  GENTILE    SUPERSTITIONS.  151 

or  like  stags  °,  or  the  fooleries,  nor  make  feasts  lasting  all 
night,  nor  keep  up  the  custom  of  gifts 7  and  intemperate 
drinking.  Let  no  Christian  believe  in  puras,  nor  set  amidst 
their  singing,  for  these  are  the  works  of  the  Devil.  Let  no 
one  on  the  Festival  of  St.  John,  or  on  any  of  the  festivals  of 
the  saints,  join  in  solstitia,  or  dances,  or  leaping,  or  caraulas  8, 
or  diabolical  songs.  Let  none  trust  in,  or  presume  to  invoke, 
the  names  of  daemons ;  neither  Neptune,  nor  Orcus,  nor 
Diana,  nor  Minerva,  nor  Geniscus,  nor  any  other  such  fol- 
lies. Let  no  one  keep  Thursday  as  a  holy-day,  either  in 
May,  or  at  any  other  time,  (unless  it  be  some  saint's  day,)  or 
the  day  of  moths  and  mice,  or  any  day  of  any  kind,  but  the 
Lord's  Day.  Let  no  Christian  place  lights  at  the  temples, 
or  the  stones,  or  at  fountains,  or  at  trees,  or  ad  cellos,  or  at 
places  where  three  ways  meet,  or  presume  to  make  vows. 
Let  none  presume  to  hang  amulets  on  the  neck  of  man  or 
beast ;  even  though  they  be  made  by  the  clergy,  and  called 
holy  things,  and  contain  the  words  of  Scripture  ;    for   they 

6  Vetulas  aut  cervolos. — The  council  of  Auxerre  (an.  378)  had  decreed 
— **  Non  licet  Kalendis  Januarii  vetula  aut  cervolo  facere."  Lab.  Con.  v. 
917.  Some  would  read  this  as  vitulas,  and  suppose  it  to  mean  assuming 
the  appearance,  or  sacrificing,  a  calf.  But  certainly  the  wearing  of  female 
attire  by  men  was  one  great  feature  of  the  festival.  Isidore  (about  the 
end  of  the  sixth  century)  says — "Tunc  enim  miseri  homines,  et,  quod 
pejus  est,  etiam  fideles,  sumentes  species  monstruosas,  in  ferarum  habitu 
transformantur ;  alii  fcemineo  gestu  demutati  virilem  vultum  effceminant." 
De  Eccl.  Offic.  lib.  ii.  c.  40.  (Bib.  Pat.  x.  200.)  Alcuin,  nearly  two  cen- 
turies after,  has  almost  the  same  words ;  but  it  is  worth  while  to  remark 
that  he  changes  transformantur  and  effoeminant,  into  transformabant  and 
effceminabant ;  in  fact,  he  says, — "  Domino  largiente,  haec  a  fidelibus  pro 
nihilo  habentur,  licet  quantulsecunque  similitudines,  quod  absit,  adhuc 
lateant  in  feris  hominibus."  De  Div.  Off.  (Ibid.  p.  229.)  The  reader 
will  observe  that  I  put  some  words  of  the  extract  in  the  text  in  italics 
without  any  note,  by  which  I  wish  to  express  that  I  do  not  know  what 
they  mean.  This  is  not  the  place  to  discuss  the  conjectures  of  others,  or 
to  offer  my  own. 

7  Strenas. — What  Asterius  says  on  this  point  is  worth  reading.  When 
he  says  that  children  were  taught  to  love  money  by  being  permitted  to  go 
round  from  house  to  house  collecting  it,  in  return  for  nominal  presents, 
one  is  led  to  think  of  Christmas-boxes ;  which,  indeed,  as  well  as  new 
year's  gifts,  seem  to  be  genuine  remains  of  the  custom. 

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


152  ST.   eloy's  sermon  ox  [no.  IX. 

are  fraught,  not  with  the  remedy  of  Christ,  but  with  the 
poison  of  the  Devil.  Let  no  one  presume  to  make  lustra- 
tions, nor  to  enchant  herbs,  nor  to  make  flocks  pass  through 
a  hollow  tree,  or  an  aperture  in  the  earth ;  for  by  so  doing 
he  seems  to  consecrate  them  to  the  Devil.  Let  no  woman 
presume  to  hang  amber  beads  on  her  neck  ;  or  in  her  weav- 
ing, or  dyeing,  or  any  other  kind  of  work,  to  invoke  Minerva, 
or  the  other  ill-omened  persons ;  but  let  her  desire  the  grace 
of  Christ  to  be  present  in  every  work,  and  confide  with  her 
whole  heart  in  the  power  of  his  name.  If  at  any  time  the 
moon  is  darkened,  let  no  one  presume  to  make  a  clamour ; 
for,  at  certain  times,  it  is  darkened  by  the  command  of  God. 
Neither  let  any  one  fear  to  set  about  any  work  at  the  new 
moon ;  for  God  has  made  the  moon  on  purpose  to  mark  the 
times,  and  to  temper  the  darkness  of  the  nights,  not  to  hin- 
der anybody's  work,  nor  that  it  should  make  any  man  mad, 
as  foolish  persons  think,  who  suppose  that  those  who  are 
possessed  by  devils  suffer  from  the  moon.  Let  none  call  the 
sun  or  moon  '  Lord  ; 1  nor  swear  by  them,  for  they  are  crea- 
tures of  God ;  and,  by  the  command  of  God,  they  are  sub- 
servient to  the  necessities  of  men.  Let  no  man  have  his  fate 
or  his  fortune  told,  or  his  nativity,  or  what  is  commonly 
called  his  horoscope,  so  as  to  say  that  he  shall  be  such  as  his 
horoscope  shall  indicate  ;  for  God  will  have  all  men  to  be 
saved,  and  come  to  the  knowledge  of  the  truth,  and  wisely 
dispenses  all  things  even  as  he  hath  appointed  before  the 
foundation  of  the  world.  Moreover,  as  often  as  any  sickness 
occurs,  do  not  seek  enchanters,  nor  diviners,  nor  sorcerers, 
nor  soothsayers,  or  make  devilish  amulets  at  fountains,  or 
trees,  or  cross-roads ;  but  let  him  who  is  sick  trust  only  in 
the  mercy  of  God,  and  receive  the  sacrament  of  the  body  and 
blood  of  Christ  with  faith  and  devotion  ;  and  faithfully  seek 
consecrated  oil  from  the  church,  wherewith  he  may  anoint 
his  body  in  the  name  of  Christ,  and,  according  to  the  apostle, 
1  the  prayer  of  faith  shall  save  the  sick,  and  the  Lord  shall 
raise  him  up  ; '  and  he  shall  receive  health  not  only  of  body 
but  of  mind,  and  there  shall  be  fulfilled  in  him  that  which 
our  Lord  promised  in  the  gospel,  saying,  l  for  all  things 
whatsoever  ye  shall  ask  in  prayer,  believing,  ye  shall  receive.1 
"  Before  all  things,  wherever  you  may  be,  whether  in  the 
house,  or  on  a  journey,  or  at  a  feast,  let  no  filthy  or  lewd 


XO.  IX.]  GEXTILE    SUPERSTITIONS.  153 

discourse   proceed   out   of  your   mouths ;    for,    as   our    Lord 
declares  in  the  gospel,  for  every  idle  word  which  men   shall 
speak  on  earth,   they  shall  give  account  in  the  day  of  judg- 
ment.    Forbid  also  the  performance  of  all  diabolical  games, 
and  dances,   and  songs  of  the  heathen.      Let  no   Christian 
perform  them,  because  by  them  he  becomes  a  heathen ;  for 
indeed  it  is  not  right  that  from  a  Christian  mouth,   which 
receives  the  sacraments  of  Christ,  and  which  ought  always  to 
praise  God,  diabolical  songs  should  proceed.     And  therefore, 
brethren,  eschew  with  your  whole  heart  all  inventions  of  the 
devil,  and  fly  from  all  the  impieties  which  I  have  mentioned, 
with  horror.     You  must  shew  reverence  (venerationem  exhi- 
beatis)  to  no  creature  beside  God  and  his  saints.     Destroy 
the  fountains  which  they  call  sacred ;  forbid  them  to  make 
the  images  of  feet  which  they  place  at  the  parting  of  roads, 
and  if  you  find  them,  burn  them  with  fire.     Believe  that  you 
cannot   be  saved   by   any   other   means   than    by   calling   on 
Christ,  and  by  his  cross.     For  what  a  thing  it  is  that  if  those 
trees,  where  these  miserable  men  pay  their  vows,  fall  down, 
they  will  not  use  them  to  make  their  fires.     And  see  how 
great  the  folly  of  the  men  is,  if  they  pay  honour  to  an  insen- 
sible and  dead  tree,  and  despise  the  commands  of  Almighty 
God.     Let  not  any  man,  then,  believe  that  the  heaven,   or 
the  stars,  or  the  earth,  or,  in  short,  any  creature  whatsoever, 
is  to  be  adored   (adorandam)  except  God ;  because  He,  by 
Himself  alone,    created    and   arranged   them.      The   heaven, 
indeed,  is  high,  the  earth  great,  the  sea  immense,  the  stars 
are  beautiful ;  but  He  who  made  all  these  things  must  needs 
be  greater  and  more  beautiful.     For  if  these  things  which  are 
seen  are  so  incomprehensible — that  is,   the  various  produce 
of  the  earth,  the  beauty  of  the  flowers,  the  diversity  of  fruits 
the  different  kinds  of  animals — some  on  the  earth,  some  in 
the  waters,  some  in  the  air — the  skill  of  the  bees,  the  blow- 
ing of  the  winds,   the  showers  of  the   clouds,   the  noise  of 
thunder,  the  change  of  seasons,  and  the  alternation  of  day 
and  night — all  which  things  the  human  mind  hath  never  yet 
been  able  by  any  means  to  comprehend.     If  therefore  these 
things,    which    we   see,    without    being   able   to   comprehend 
them,  are  such,   how  ought   we   to   estimate  those  heavenly 
things  which  we  have  not  yet  seen  ?     And  what  is  the  Creator 
of  them  all,  at  whose  nod  all  were  created,  and  by  whose  will 


154 


GENTILE    SUPERSTITIONS. 


[NO.  IX. 


all  are  governed  ?  Him  then,  brethren,  above  all  things,  fear ; 
Him  in  all  things  adore  ;  Him  beyond  all  things  love  ;  cling 
to  his  mercy,  and  never  lose  your  confidence  in  his  loving 
kindness." 

Notwithstanding  the  statement  of  Alcuin,  which 
was,  I  dare  say,  true,  as  far  as  his  knowledge  went — 
and  his  means  of  knowledge  render  his  authority 
respectable — we  are  not  to  suppose  that  this  heathen- 
ism was  entirely  rooted  out.  If  it  was  so  modified 
as  to  be  lost  sight  of,  and  to  have  become  comparatively 
harmless,  in  old  Christian  societies,  the  accession  of 
barbarous  nations,  or  heathenish  communities,  from 
time  to  time,  rendered  it  necessary  to  watch  against, 
and  denounce  it.  Whether  on  this  account,  or  merely 
to  make  his  Capitulare  more  complete,  Atto  (Bishop  of 
Yercelli,  as  late  as  a.d.  960)  inserted  a  prohibition 
against  the  heathenish  celebration  of  the  Calends9; 
though  it  is  not  improbable  that  this  superstition  might 
maintain  its  ground,  in  its  more  barefaced  form,  up  to 
a  later  period  in  Italy  than  elsewhere.  It  is  curious  to 
observe  that  Boniface,  the  apostle  of  Germany,  not 
long  before  the  time  when  Alcuin  wrote,  found  his 
new  converts  much  scandalized  by  reports  which  travel- 
lers brought  from  Rome,  of  what  went  on  in  the  pope's 
own  city,  and  "hard  by  the  church  of  St.  Peter."  In 
his  letter  of  congratulation  to  Pope  Zachary,  he  told 
his  Holiness  (or  rather,  "his  Paternity" — it  is  the 
pope  who  calls  Boniface  "your  Holiness,")  that  when 
the  laity  and  secular  persons  among  the  Germans, 
Bavarian-,  and  Franks,  saw  these  things  performed  at 
Rome,  it  was  vain  to  denounce  them  as  sins,  or  to 
attempt  to  persuade  people  that  they  had  not  eccle- 
siastical sanction.     The  pope  replied  that  he  considered 


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


NO.  IX.]  LIBERTAS    DECEMBRICA.  155 

it   an   abomination,    and    had    (like   his   predecessor, 
Gregory)  done  all  that  he  could  to  put  a  stop  to  it 1. 

But  I  am  not  writing  the  history  of  this  folly.  The 
question  forces  itself  upon  one — What  had  this  heathen 
foolery  to  do  with  the  church,  more  than  any  other 
invention  of  the  world,  the  flesh,  or  the  devil  ?  It  was 
"juxta  ecclesiam  sancti  Petri" — "  hard  by"  St.  Peter's; 
but  did  it  get  in?  Council  after  council  attests  that 
all  regular  ecclesiastical  authority  perpetually  opposed 
it ;  and,  though  I  know  less  than  I  could  wish  about 
the  particulars,  and  the  time  of  its  intrusion  into 
sacred  places,  and  its  admixture  with  sacred  things,  yet 
I  believe  that  it  did  not  become  "  a  farcical  entertain- 
ment, exhibited  in  a  church,"  during  the  period  with 
which  we  are  concerned.  The  only  account  which  I 
have  met  with  of  any  participation  by  the  church  in 
this  "  libertas  Decembrica,"  as  it  was  also  called,  is  that 
which  is  given  by  a  writer,  who  is  said  to  have  belonged 
to  the  church  of  Amiens,  and  to  have  been  living  in 
a.d.  1182 2.    He  tells  us  that  there  were  some  churches 


1  The  pope's  reply  is  dated  1st  of  April,  743  ;  but  I  do  not  know  that 
the  precise  date  of  Boniface's  letter  can  be  fixed.  Having  inquired 
respecting  dispensations,  respecting  marriage,  which  some  maintained  to 
have  been  granted  by  the  pope,  he  adds — "  quia  carnales  homines  idiotse, 
Alamanni,  vel  Bajuarii,  vel  Franci,  si  juxta  Romanam  urbem  aliquid  fieri 
viderint  ex  his  peccatis  quae  nos  prohibemus,  licitum  et  concessum  a 
sacerdotibus  esse  putant ;  et  dum  nobis  improperium  deputant,  sibi  scan- 
dalum  vita?  accipiunt.  Sicut  affirmant  6e  vidisse  annis  singulis,  in 
Romana  urbe,  et  juxta  ecclesiam  Sancti  Petri,  in  die  vel  nocte  quando 
Kalendae  Januarii  intrant,  paganorum  consuetudine  choros  ducere  per 
plateas,"  &c.  The  pope,  after  expressing  his  abomination  of  such  pro- 
ceedings, says — "  quia  per  instigationem  diaboli  iterum  pullulabant,  a  die 
qua  nos  jussit  divina  dementia  (quanquam  immeriti  existamus)  apostoli 
vicem  gerere,  illico  omnia  haec  amputavimus.  Pari  etenim  modo  volumus 
tuam  sanctitatem  populis  sibi  subditis  praedicare  atque  ad  viara  aeternae 
perducere  vitae."— Lab.  Cone.  vi.  1497 — 1500. 

2  His  words  are — "  Sunt  nonnullae  ecclesiae,  in  quibus  usitatum  est,  ut 
vel  etiam  Episcopi  et  Archiepiscopi  in  ccenobiis  cum  suis  ludant  subditis, 
ita  ut  etiam  sese  ad  lusum  pilae  demittant;"  and  he  afterwards  says — 
M  quanquam  vero  magnae  ecclesia?  ut  est  Remensis,  hanc  ludendi  consue- 


156  THE    FEAST  [NO.  IX. 

in  which  it  was  customary  for  the  bishops  and  arch- 
bishops to  join  in  the  Christmas  games  which  went  on 
in  the  monasteries  in  their  dioceses,  and  even  so  far  to 
relax  as  to  play  at  ball.  If  I  grant  that  this  was  "  desi- 
pere,"  may  I  not  plead  that  it  was  "  in  loco,"  and  that 
it  was  not  quite  so  bad  as  what  went  on  at  Rouen  and 
Beauvais  in  more  enlightened  times  ? 

For  when  did  this  festival  become  the  regular  Feast 
of  Fools,  with  the  Bishop  of  Fools,  and  the  Abbot  of 
Fools,  and  foolery  sacred  and  profane  in  perfection? 
Let  us  hear  Du  Cange,  to  whom  Robertson  remits 
us — "  Licet,  inquam,  ab  ecclesia  non  semel  proscriptse 
fuerint,  indictis  ad  hanc  diem  jejuniis  et  litaniis  de 
quibus  suo  loco,  quibus  eae  quodammodo  expiarentur, 
et  ut  ludicrge  et  impise  festivitatis  loco  vera  ac  solida 
succederet ;  non  potuere  tamen  tarn  alte  radicatse  pror- 
sus  evelli,  adeo  ut  extremis  etiam  temporibus  plus  solito 
vires  acceperint,  et  non  a  secularibus  dumtaxat ;  sed  et 
ab  ipsis  episcopis  et  sacerdotibus  legantur  usurpatse : 
[imo,  cum  ab  iis  omnino  abstinuissent  laici,  eas  obsti- 
nate retinuisse  clericos,  atque  ab  iis  solis  usurpatas 
fuisse,  testantur  theologi  Parisienses  in  Epist.  encyclica 
ami.  1444.  'Quid  quaeso  fecissent'  (Episcopi)  'si  solum 
clerum  sicut  hodie  his  observantiis  vacantem  vidis- 
sent?'~  The  part  between  brackets  is  so  printed  by 
the  editors,  to  shew  that  it  is  their  own  addition  to  the 
statement  of  Du  Cange,  who  proceeds  to  say  that,  in 
modern  times,  beside  its  old  title,  it  came  to  be  called 

tudinem  observent,  videtur  tamen  laudabilius  esse,  non  ludere." — Ap.  Du 
Cange  in  v.  Kalendce.  The  only  writer  before  the  year  1200,  mentioned  in 
the  continuation  of  the  article  by  the  editors,  is  Petrus  Capuanus,  who 
wrote  in  a.d.  1198.  He  is  the  earliest  writer,  as  far  as  I  have  seen,  who 
speaks  of  this,  or  any  festival,  under  the  title  of  the  Festum  Fatuorum. 
He  is  here  said  to  have  testified  its  existence  in  the  church  of  Paris,  and 
elsewhere;  but  with  what  rites  it  was  celebrated  does  not  appear.  He 
wrote,  as  cardinal-legate,  to  Odo,  Bishop  of  Paris,  and  to  some  of  the 
canons,  requiring  them  to  put  down  the  custom  ;  and  it  appears  that  they 
issued  an  ordinance  for  that  purpose. 


NO.  IX.]  OF    FOOLS.  157 

the  Feast  of  Subdeacons  ;  not  because  that  order  of  the 
clergy  alone  took  part  in  it,  but  from  the  ambiguity  of 
the  word  "  Soudiacres  id  est  ad  literam  Saturi  Diaconi, 
quasi  Diacres  Saouls"  He  also  refers  to  the  fourth  coun- 
cil of  Constantinople,  to  shew  that  something  like  the 
mock  consecration  of  the  Bishop  of  Fools  was  performed 
in  the  east,  in  the  ninth  century,  by  some  of  the 
laity  in  derision  of  the  clergy ;  and  that  it  was  forbid- 
den by  the  church.  This  council  declares  it  to  be  a 
thing  before  unheard  of;  and  whether  it  was  thence 
imported  into  the  west,  and,  if  so,  at  what  time,  it 
might  be  curious  to  inquire;  but  the  editors  of  Du 
Cange  skip  at  once  from  the  ninth  to  the  fourteenth 
century.  What  they  quote  from  the  Ceremonial  of 
Viviers,  written  in  a.d.  1365,  from  the  council  of 
Rouen,  in  a.d.  1445,  or  the  Inventory  of  York,  in 
a.d.  1350;  or  even  the  more  scanty  references  to  the 
council  of  Paris,  in  a.d.  1212,  or  that  of  Cognac  in 
a.  d.  1260,  and  the  Constitutions  of  our  Archbishop 
Peckam  in  a.d.  1270,  it  is  not  to  our  present  purpose 
to  notice ;  but  I  wish  that  some  of  those  gentlemen 
who  understand  all  about  the  march  of  intellect  would 
explain,  how  it  happened  that  these  profane  follies 
began — if  not  to  exist,  at  least  to  flourish  and  abound 
— at,  and  after,  and  along  with,  the  revival  of  letters. 
If  not,  I  may,  perhaps,  attempt  something  of  the  kind ; 
but,  in  the  meantime,  I  hope  (having,  perhaps,  said 
enough  about  popular  misrepresentations  for  the  pre- 
sent) to  go  on  to  some  of  the  points  which  I  proposed 
to  investigate  with  reference  to  the  earlier — for  really, 
after  such  a  discussion,  I  do.  not  like  to  call  them  the 
darker — ages  of  the  church. 


158 


No.  X. 


"  Habet  unumquodque  propositum  principes  suos.  Romani  duces  imi- 
tentur  Camillos,  Fabritios,  Regulos,  Scipiones.  Philosophi  proponant 
sibi  Pythagoram,  Socratem,  Platonem,  Aristotelem.  Poetae,  Homerum, 
Virgilium,  Menandrum,  Terentium.  Historici,  Thucydidem,  Sallustium, 
Herodotum,  Livium.  Oratores,  Lysiam,  Gracchos,  Demosthenem,  et  ut 
ad  nostra  veniamus,  episcopi  et  presbyteri  habeant  in  exemplum  Aposto- 
los  et  Apostolicos  viros  :  quorum  honorem  possidentes,  habere  nitantur  et 
meritum.  Nos  autem  habeamus  propositi  nostri  principes,  Paulos,  et 
Antonios,  Julianos,  Hilarionem,  Macarios." — Hieronymus. 

"The  monks  were  abominably  illiterate" — Well,  good 
friend,  and  if  yon  are  not  so  yourself,  be  thankful  in 
proportion  as  you  are  sure  that  you  are  the  better  for 
your  learning.  But  suppose  it  were  otherwise — sup- 
pose you  were  "abominably  illiterate" — would  you  like 
me  and  all  other  writers  in  great  books  and  small,  in 
magazines  and  newspapers,  to  rail  at  you  and  run  you 
down,  as  a  creature  not  fit  to  live  ?  If  you  were  too 
modest  to  speak  in  your  own  behalf,  it  is  likely  that 
some  of  your  friends  might  suggest  such  redeeming 
qualities  as  would  shew  that  you  were  not  only  tolerable, 
but  useful,  in  the  world.  "  Very  true,  very  true,"  says 
the  march-of-intellect  man,  "  I  dare  say  he  may  be  a 
very  good  Christian,  a  good  subject,  a  good  husband  or 
father  or  landlord,  a  person  of  great  integrity  and  bene- 
volence, and  all  very  well  in  his  way,  but  he  is  abomin- 
ably illiterate,  and  I  will  throw  it  in  his  teeth  whenever 
I  come  within  a  mile  of  him."  Now  surely  the  com- 
passion of  a  mere  by-stander  would  lead  him  to  say, 
"  Well,  suppose  he  is  abominably  illiterate,  do  let  him 
alone  ;  he  makes  no  pretence  to  learning." 

But  did  not  the  monks  pretend  to  it  ?  Certainly  not. 
"  C'est  une  illusion  de  certaine  gens,  qui  ont  ecrit  dans 
le  siecle  precedent  que  les  monasteros  n'avoient  este 
d'abord  etablis  que  pour  servir  d'ecoles  et  d'academies 


NO.  X.]  MONASTICISM.  159 

publiques,  ou  Ton  faisoit  profession  d'enseigner  les 
sciences  humaines."  Very  true,  Dom  Mabillon,  and  it 
is  very  right  that  you  should  contradict  in  plain  terms 
a  vulgar  error,  which,  for  want  of  proper  discrimination 
on  the  part  of  the  public,  has  been  confirmed  rather 
than  corrected,  by  the  labours  of.  yourself  and  Mont- 
faucon,  and  other  of  your  brethren  in  the  Benedictine 
Order.  The  "  Editio  Benedictina  et  Optima,"  which 
figures  in  every  bookseller's  catalogue,  has  a  tendency 
to  mislead  even  those  who  do  not  take  the  trouble  to 
inquire  who  the  Benedictines  of  St.  Maur  were,  or  why 
their  editions  of  books  cost  three  times  as  much  as 
others.  This  by  the  way,  however ;  for  it  is  here  only 
necessary  to  say,  that  the  abuse  heaped  on  monks  for 
being  unlearned  is  altogether  unjust  and  absurd. 

The  monastic  life,  whatever  it  might  have  of  good  or 
bad,  was,  I  apprehend,  that  point  of  rest  in  which  the 
minds  of  men  settled  after  they  had  been  driven,  partly 
by  fierce  persecution,  and  partly  by  the  natural  ten- 
dency of  man  towards  extremes,  into  a  mode  of  life 
purely  solitary.  Man  might  have  known,  at  that  stage 
of  the  world,  from  experience,  as  well  as  from  the  Word 
of  God,  without  putting  it  to  a  fresh  trial,  that  it  was 
not  good  for  him  to  be  alone ;  and  that  it  was  as  truly, 
if  not  as  great,  a  sin  to  live  without  man,  as  without 
God,  in  the  world — that  is,  to  renounce  the  second 
great  commandment,  under  pretence  of  keeping  the 
first.  The  eremitical  life  was  contrary  to  nature,  reason, 
and  religion,  and  seems  only  to  have  been  permitted  in 
order  to  the  introduction  of  a  system  which  was,  to  say 
the  least,  more  rational — namely,  that  of  societies,  not 
individuals,  forsaking  the  world,  and  living  in  seclusion. 
The  solitary  ascetic,  by  his  self-constructed,  self-im- 
posed, rule  (self  in  all  things,  self  the  boundary  of  his 
horizon),  was  required  to  renounce  the  duties,  the  chari- 
ties, the  sympathies,  of  life,  and  to  cut  himself  off  from 


160  MONASTIC    STUDIES.  [NO.  X. 

all  the  means  of  grace  which  God  has  given  to  man  in 
his  fellows ;  but,  in  the  monastery,  the  idea  was  to  carry 
out  into  some  remote  place  of  safety  one  mind  dispersed 
and  diversified  in  various  bodies,  guiding  many  hands 
and  uniting  many  hearts,  and  directing,  sanctifying, 
and  governing  the  various  gifts  of  the  many  members 
of  one  bodv,  whose  head  was  Christ.  Such  was  the 
idea ;  and  when  once  suggested  it  spread  rapidly. 
Small  companies  nestled  down  in  solitude — to  study 
the  classics  ? — to  stimulate  the  march  of  intellect  ?  No 
such  thing — "  tota  rusticitas,  et  extra  psalmos  silentium 
est.  Quocunque  te  verteris,  arator  stivam  tenens, 
alleluia  decantat.  Sudans  messor  psalmis  se  avocat,  et 
curva  attondens  vitem  falce  vinitor,  aliquid  Davidicum 
canit.  Haac  sunt  in  hac  provincia  carmina;  ha?,  ut 
vulgo  dicitur,  amatorise  cantiones.  Hie  pastorum  sibilus  : 
ha?c  anna  culturse."  Solitude,  labour,  silence,  and 
prayer — these  were  the  elements  of  monastic  life ;  and 
the  question  was  not  how  the  monk  might  most  effect- 
ively gather  and  diffuse  learning,  but — when,  indeed, 
any  question  came  to  be  raised — whether  he  might 
lawfully  cultivate  learning  at  all. 

"  Tout  le  monde  sait" — says  Dom  Vincent  Thuillier ; 
but  it  is  certainly  quite  a  mistake  of  his, — or  if  it  was 
true  when  he  wrote  it,  it  has  long  since  ceased  to  be 
so, — for  there  are  plenty  of  people,  who  are  very  far 
from  being  abominably  illiterate,  who  nevertheless 
know  nothing  about  the  "  Contestation  sur  les  Etudes 
Monastiques,"  of  which  he  undertook  to  be  the  his- 
torian. If  he  had  said  that  most  people  have  heard 
of  De  Ranee,  of  his  noble  birth,  his  profligate  life, 
his  sudden  and  mysterious  conversion,  his  persevering- 
austerities — of  the  solitary  and  silent  horrors  of  La 
Trappe,  and  of  a  great  deal  of  picturesque  truth  so 
like  romance  that  one  can  hardly  imagine  the  hero 
sitting    at    a    wooden     table,     with     a    real    pen    and 


NO.  X.]  DE    RAXCE    AND    MABILLOX.  161 

ink,  writing  a  book — if  Father  Thuillier  had  said  this. 
we  might  have  assented ;  but  to  tell  us  outright  that 
every  body  knows  that  De  Ranee's  "Traite  de  la 
Saintete  et  des  Devoirs  de  la  Vie  Monastique"  began 
the  frav  between  him  and  Dom  Mabillon,  is  too  much, 
seeing  that  there  are,  as  I  have  said,  a  great  many 
very  well-informed  persons,  who  do  not  know  that 
these  two  famous  men  ever  had  any  controversy  about 
monastic  studies,  or  even,  perhaps,  that  there  were  any 
such  studies  to  dispute  about. 

The  work  of  De  Ranee,  I  am  told  (for  I  have  never 
seen  it),  was  professedly  written  for  his  own  monks, 
and  represented  to  them  that  the  pursuit  of  literature 
was  inconsistent  with  their  profession,  and  that  their 
reading  ought  to  be  confined  to  the  Scriptures  and 
a  few  books  of  devotion.  This  seemed  like — some 
thought  it  was  meant  to  be — an  attack  on  the  Bene- 
dictine monks  of  St.  Maur — for  that  they  were  learned 
every  body  knew — and  they  were  urged  to  reply. 
They,  however,  remained  very  quiet ;  and  it  was  long 
before  they  could  be  persuaded  to  take  the  field.  The 
Benedictine  historian  whom  I  have  mentioned,  and  to 
whom  I  am  indebted,  suggests  as  a  reason  for  this,  that 
the  Benedictines  really  were  (and  every  body  knew 
they  were)  following  the  footsteps  of  their  learned  pre- 
decessors in  the  cultivation  of  letters,  and  that  they 
thought  it  quite  sufficient  to  tell  those  who  talked  to 
them  on  the  subject,  that  the  abbot  of  La  Trappe  had 
his  own  reasons  for  what  he  did  J — that  he  had  no 
authority  except  in  his  own  convent — that  there  he  really 


1  "  Et  pour  toute  reponse  a  ceux  qui  les  excitoient  a  se  defendre,  ils 
alleguerent  que  le  Pere  Abbe  avoit  ses  vues  particulieres,  qu'il  n'avoit  droit 
de  decision  que  sur  sa  Maison,  qu'il  y  e'toit  le  maitre,  et  qu'on  ne  pouvoit 
trouver  a  redire,  que  pour  conduire  son  troupeau  au  Ciel,  il  se  fit  des 
routes  singulieres,  puisqu'il  les  croioit  les  plus  sures."  Mabill.  Op.  Post. 

M 


162  DE    RANCE    AND  [NO.   X. 

was  master — and  no  one  had  a  right  to  blame  him 
if,  in  order  to  conduct  his  own  flock  to  heaven,  he  pre- 
scribed paths  somewhat  singular  under  the  conviction 
that  they  were  the  safest. 

Father  Thuillier  is  not,  perhaps,  quite  an  unprejudiced 
historian ;  and  I  hope  I  am  not  uncharitable  in  think- 
ing that  he  might  have  added,  that  although  these  good 
fathers  of  St.  Maur  were  in  fact  following  the  steps  of 
their  predecessors  in  the  order  of  St.  Benedict :  yet, 
considering  that  they  had  had  predecessors  in  that 
order  for  nearly  twelve  hundred  years,  and  that  during 
the  lapse  of  that  period  many  things  had  altered  both 
in  and  out  of  the  cloister,  they  felt  it  rather  awkward 
to  be  sharply  recalled  to  the  naked  letter  of  their  Rule. 
They  were  in  no  haste  to  meet  an  opponent  of  great 
influence  from  family,  connexion,  character,  and  the 
singular  circumstances  of  his  life — a  man,  acute,  elo- 
quent, fervid,  and  fully  persuaded  that  he  was  main- 
taining the  cause  of  pure  and  primitive  and  spiritual 
religion,  against  the  incursions  of  vain,  worldly,  and 
mischievous  pursuits.  One  might  forgive  them  if  they 
were  not  eager  to  fight  such  a  battle,  with  such  an 
adversary,  before  an  enlightened  public,  who,  whichever 
side  might  gain  the  victory,  would  be  sure  to  make 
themselves  merry  with  the  battle  of  the  monks. 

Be  this  as  it  may,  however,  a  considerable  time 
elapsed — I  do  not  know  in  what  year  De  Ranee  pub- 
lished his  book,  and  therefore  cannot  tell  whether  it 
was  with  a  view  to  be  specific,  or  to  shew  his  own 
classical  reading,  that  Father  Thuillier  tells  us  that  more 
than  nine  years  had  passed  before  the  Benedictine  reply 


Tom.  I.  p.  366.  The  words  which  I  have  marked  by  italics  seem  capable 
of  an  invidious  construction ;  but  the  notorious  circumstances  of  the  case 
were  such  that  it  can  hardly  have  been  intended. 


NO.  X.]  MABILLON.  163 

came  out ;  but  in  fact  Dom  Mabillon's  "  Traite  des 
Etudes  Monastiques"  was  published  in  the  year  1691. 
It  was,  of  course,  learned,  wise,  and  modest.  It  proved 
that  there  had  been  a  succession  of  learned  monks 
from  almost  the  very  beginning  of  monasticism,  that 
they  had  learned  and  taught  as  much  as  they  could, 
and  that,  on  the  general  principles  of  religion,  reason, 
and  common  sense,  they  were  quite  right  in  so  doing ; 
but,  as  to  the  Rule,  he  did  not  get  on  quite  so  well : 
because  it  must  be  obvious  to  every  one  who  inquires, 
that  none  of  the  monastic  legislators  ever  contemplated 
the  formation  of  academies  of  learning  and  science. 
This  Mabillon  of  course  knew,  and  I  doubt  whether 
he  could  have  carried  on  his  argument  (for  I  do  not 
believe  that  he  would  have  done  what  he  considered 
dishonest)  had  it  not  been  for  a  full  persuasion  of  his 
mind  which,  though  it  may  not  bear  to  be  stated  as  an 
argument,  peeps  out  occasionally  in  a  very  amusing 
manner,  and  gives  a  colour  to  the  whole  line  of  defence. 
— "  Not  study  ?  why,  how  could  they  help  it  ?" — or, 
thrown  into  a  more  logical  form,  "  You  acknowledge 
that  the  monks  lived  in  their  monasteries;  but  it  is 
impossible  for  people  to  live  without  study;  therefore 
the  monks  studied."  Some  caviller  might  say  that  the 
Rule  did  not  tell  them  to  study ;  and  the  good  father 
would  perhaps  have  smiled  and  answered  that  it  did 
not  tell  them  to  breathe. 

The  work  was,  however,  popular;  for  who  would 
not  wish  to  be  ranged  with  the  admirers  and  advocates 
of  learning  and  science?  and  a  second  edition  was 
printed  the  next  year  after  the  first.  It  was  quickly 
translated  into  Italian  by  Father  Ceppi,  an  Augustinian 
monk 2,  but   was  very  near  being  prohibited,   not  on 


2  I  learn  from  Father  Ossinger's  Bibliotheca  Augustiniana,  that  this 
Father  Ceppi  was,  "  singularis  venerator  nostri  S.  Nicolai  cie  Tolentino/' 

M  2 


164  DE    RANCE    AND  [NO.  X. 

account  of  any  thing  connected  with  the  dispute,  but 
for  some  things  which  appeared  too  liberal ;  among 
others,  a  commendation  of  Archbishop  Ussher's  Annals. 
Father  Ceppi,  however,  managed  to  soften  the  Master 
of  the  Sacred  Palace,  and  so  got  a  conditional 
imprimatur  in  1701.  A  German  translation  of  it  was 
published  by  Father  Udalric  Staudigl  in  1 702 ;  and  a 
Latin  one  by  Father  Joseph  Porta  in  1704. 

It  is  not,  however,  my  present  business  to  trace  this 
controversy  through  the  reply  of  De  Ranee,  and  the 
rejoinder  of  Mabillon.  I  mention  it  here  to  shew  that, 
even  so  recently  as  little  more  than  a  century  ago,  it 
was  a  question  sharply  contested  between  men  of  the 
highest  monastic  eminence,  whether  a  monk  might 
lawfully  be  a  learned  man.  I  do  this  with  a  view  to 
remove  what  I  believe  to  be  a  very  common  misappre- 
hension as  to  the  origin  and  nature  of  monastic  institu- 
tions. I  know,  as  well  as  Mabillon  did — that  is,  as  to 
full  conviction  that  it  was  so,  not  as  to  the  facts  which 
his  almost  unbounded  learning  might  have  furnished  in 
proof  or  illustration — that  the  monks  were  the  most 
learned  men ;  and  that  it  pleased  God  to  make  monas- 
tic institutions  the  means  of  preserving  learning  in  the 
world,  and  I  hope  to  shew  this ;  but  before  I  do  so,  I 


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


NO.  X.]  MABILLON.  165 

wish  to  come  "to  a  clear  understanding  with  those  who, 
instead  of  thanking  the  monks  for  what  they  did,  find 
sufficient  employment  in  abusing  them  for  not  doing 
what  they  never  undertook  to  do,  and  were,  in  fact, 
no  more  bound  to  do  than  other  people.  With  this 
view  I  am  also  desirous  to  say  something  of  the  Rule 
of  St.  Benedict.  "  I  would  not  have  answered  him," 
said  De  Ranee  to  Father  Lamy,  when  the  Duchess  of 
Guise,  wTho  took  a  vast  interest  in  the  matter,  had  gone 
to  La  Trappe,  and  got  these  two  fathers  face  to  face,  to 
fight  the  matter  out  before  her 3 — "  I  would  not  have 
answered  him,  if  he  had  not  carried  the  matter  up  to 
the  time  of  Pachomius."  It  was  too  bad ;  and  I  am 
not  going  to  imitate  it  by  speaking  here  of  any  earlier 
Rule  than  St.  Benedict's.  To  be  sure,  even  that  was 
born  before  the  dark  ages,  and  has  survived  them ;  but 
its  almost  universal  adoption  in  the  west,  and  its  incal- 
culable influence,  as  being  the  Rule  by  which  almost 
all  the  monasteries  of  Europe  wrere  governed,  and  by 
which  therefore  every  individual  monk  in  them  had 
solemnly  bound  himself,  render  it  a  matter  of  much 
interest  and  importance  to  those  who  would  understand 
the  spirit  of  monastic  institutions,  and  their  real  cir- 
cumstances during  the  Dark  Ages.  For  our  present 
purpose,  it  may  be  sufficient  to  extract  the  prologue, 
and  the  fourth  chapter;  the  former  of  which  is  as 
follows : — 

"  Hear,  0  my  son,  the  precepts  of  a  master ;  and  incline 


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


166  RULE    OF  [NO.  X. 

the  ear  of  thine  heart ;  and  cheerfully  receive,  and  effectually 
fulfil,  the  admonition  of  an  affectionate  father ;  that,  by  the 
labour  of  obedience,  thou  mayest  return  to  him,  from  whom 
thou  hast  departed  by  the  sloth  of  disobedience.  To  thee 
therefore  my  discourse  is  now  directed — whosoever,  renouncing 
the  desires  of  self,  and  about  to  serve  as  a  soldier  of  the  Lord 
Christ,  the  true  King,  dost  assume  the  most  powerful  and 
noble  arms  of  obedience. 

"  In  the  first  place,  you  must,  with  most  urgent  prayer, 
entreat  that  whatsoever  good  thing  you  take  in  hand,  may 
through  Him  be  brought  to  completion ;  that  He  who  hath 
condescended  now  to  reckon  us  in  the  number  of  his  sons, 
may  not  be  obliged  to  grieve  over  our  ill  conduct.  For  He  is 
ever  to  be  served  by  us,  with  those  good  things  which  are 
his  own ;  so  served  by  us  as  that  not  only  He  may  not,  as  an 
angry  father,  disinherit  his  sons, — but  that  he  may  not,  as  a 
Master  who  is  to  be  feared,  be  so  incensed  by  our  sins,  as  to 
deliver  over  to  eternal  punishment,  as  most  wicked  servants, 
those  who  would  not  follow  Him  to  glory. 

"  Let  us,  however,  at  length  arise ;  for  the  Scripture 
arouses  us,  saying,  '  That  now  it  is  high  time  to  awake  out  of 
sleep ;'  and,  our  eyes  being  opened  to  the  divine  light,  let  us 
hear  with  astonished  ears  the  voice  which  every  day  admo- 
nishes us,  4  To-day,  if  ye  will  hear  his  voice,  harden  not  your 
hearts ;'  and  again,  i  He  that  hath  ears  to  hear,  let  him  hear 
what  the  Spirit  saith  to  the  churches;'  and  what  saith  He? 
1  Come,  ye  children,  hearken  unto  me :  I  will  teach  you  the 
fear  of  the  Lord" — '  Run  while  ye  have  the  light  of  life,  lest 
the  darkness  of  death  overtake  you.'' 

"  And  the  Lord,  seeking  for  his  workman  among  the  mul- 
titude of  the  people,  whom  He  thus  addresses,  saith  again, 
1  What  man  is  he  that  desireth  life,  and  will  see  good  days  V 
And  if  when  you  hear  this  you  answer  '  I,'  God  saith  unto 
you,  '  If  thou  wilt  have  life,  keep  thy  tongue  from  evil,  and 
thy  lips  that  they  speak  no  guile.  Depart  from  evil,  and  do 
good ;  seek  peace  and  pursue  it.1  And  when  you  shall  have 
done  this,  4  my  eyes  are  upon  you,  and  my  ears  are  towards 
your  prayers ;  and  before  ye  call  upon  me  I  will  say  unto  you 
"  Here  am  I."  Most  dear  brethren,  what  is  sweeter  than 
this  voice  of  the  Lord  inviting  us  ?  Behold,  in  his  mercy,  the 
Lord  points  out  to  us  the  way  of  life. 


NO.  X.]  ST.    BENEDICT.  167 

"  Our  loins  therefore  being  girded,  and  our  feet  shod  with 
faith  and  the  observance  of  good  works,  let  us,  under  the 
guidance  of  the  gospel,  go  forth  on  his  ways,  that  we  may  be 
counted  worthy  to  see  Him  who  hath  called  us,  in  his  king- 
dom. In  the  tabernacle  of  whose  kingdom,  if  we  desire  to 
dwell,  we  can  by  no  means  attain  our  desire,  except  by  run- 
ning in  the  way  of  good  works.  But  let  us  inquire  of  the 
Lord  with  the  Prophet,  and  say  unto  Him,  ■  Lord,  who  shall 
dwell  in  thy  tabernacle,  and  who  shall  rest  in  thy  holy  moun- 
tain V  After  this  inquiry,  Brethren,  let  us  hear  the  Lord 
replying,  and  shewing  us  the  way  of  his  tabernacle,  and  say- 
ing, '  He  that  walketh  uprightly,  and  worketh  righteousness, 
and  speaketh  the  truth  in  his  heart ;  he  that  backbiteth  not 
with  his  tongue,  nor  doeth  evil  to  his  neighbour,  nor  taketh 
up  a  reproach  against  his  neighbour/  Who  turning  away 
the  eyes  of  his  heart  from  the  wicked  Devil  who  tempts  him, 
and  from  his  temptation,  hath  brought  him  to  nought,  and 
hath  taken  the  young  thoughts  which  he  hath  bred  and 
dashed  them  to  pieces  on  Christ4.  Who,  fearing  the  Lord, 
are  not  puffed  up  by  their  good  works ;  but,  who  considering 
that  those  good  things  which  are  in  them  could  not  be 
wrought  by  themselves,  but  by  the  Lord,  magnify  the  Lord 
who  worketh  in  them,  saying  with  the  Prophet,  4  Not  unto 
us,  0  Lord,  not  unto  us,  but  unto  thy  name  give  glory.'' 
Like  as  the  Apostle  Paul  reckoned  nothing  of  his  preaching, 
saying,  '  By  the  grace  of  God  I  am  what  I  am  \  and  again 
he  says,  *  He  that  glorieth  let  him  glory  in  the  Lord." 

"  Hence  also  it  is,  that  our  Lord  saith  in  the  gospel,  '  Who- 
soever heareth  these  sayings  of  mine,  and  doeth  them,  I  will 
liken  him  unto  a  wise  man,  which  built  his  house  upon  a 
rock :  and  the  floods  came,  and  the  winds  blew,  and  beat 
upon  that  house ;  and  it  fell  not :  for  it  was  founded  upon  a 
rock.1  While  the  Lord  does  all  this,  He  expects  every  day 
that  we  should  respond  to  his  holy  admonitions,  by  our 
actions.  Therefore  it  is,  that  the  days  of  this  life  are  extended 
as  a  respite  for  the  emendation  of  what  is  evil ;  as  the  Apostle 
says,  '  Knowest  thou  not  that  the  long  suffering  of  God 
leadeth  thee  to   repentance  V      For   the  merciful  God   hath 


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


168  RULE    OF  [NO.  X. 

said,  '  I  desire  not  the  death  of  a  sinner,  but  that  he  should 
be  converted  and  live."1 

"  When  therefore,  my  brethren,  we  inquire  of  the  Lord, 
'who  shall  abide  in  thy  tabernacled  we  thus  hear  the  rule 
of  habitation ;  and  if  we  fulfil  the  duty  of  an  inhabitant,  we 
shall  be  heirs  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  Therefore  our 
hearts  and  bodies  are  to  be  prepared  to  go  forth  to  the  war- 
fare of  holy  obedience  to  the  commandments ;  and,  because 
it  is  impossible  to  our  nature,  let  us  ask  the  Lord  of  his  grace 
that  he  would  assist  us  with  his  help.  And  if,  flying  from 
the  pains  of  hell,  we  desire  to  obtain  eternal  life,  while  yet 
there  is  opportunity  and  we  are  in  this  body,  and  space  is 
afforded  to  fulfil  all  these  things  by  this  life  of  light,  we  must 
now  run  and  labour  for  that  which  shall  profit  us  for  ever. 

"  We  must,  therefore,  institute  a  school  of  service  to  the 
Lord ;  in  which  institution  we  trust  that  we  shall  appoint 
nothing  harsh  or  burdensome.  If,  however,  anything  a  little 
severe  should,  on  reasonable  grounds  of  equity,  be  enjoined 
for  the  correction  of  vices,  and  the  preservation  of  charity,  do 
not  in  sudden  alarm  fly  from  the  way  of  safety,  which  can 
only  be  begun  by  a  narrow  entrance.  In  the  progress,  how- 
ever, of  our  conversation  and  faith,  the  heart  being  enlarged 
with  the  ineffable  sweetness  of  love,  we  run  the  way  of  God's 
commandments,  so  that  never  departing  from  his  governance, 
remaining  under  his  teaching  in  the  monastery  until  death, 
we  through  patience  are  partakers  of  Christ's  sufferings,  that 
we  may  be  counted  worthy  to  be  partakers  of  his  kingdom. " 

The  first  chapter  of  the  Rule  is  on  the  various  kinds 
of  monks — the  second,  on  the  qualifications  and  duties 
of  an  abbot — the  third,  on  the  duty  of  the  abbot  to 
take  counsel  with  the  brethren — and  the  fourth  is 
headed,  "  Quae  sint  instrumenta  bonorum  operum." 
This  title  has  given  some  trouble  to  commentators; 
and  the  reader  may  translate  it  as  he  pleases.  It  is 
not  my  business  to  criticise  it,  especially  as  the  chapter 
itself  is  intelligible  enough.  It  contains  seventy-two 
brief  injunctions,  from  whence  we  may  form  some 
general  opinion  as  to  what  those  who  bound  them- 
selves by  this  rule  did,  and  did  not,  undertake.     Most 


NO.  X.]  ST.    BENEDICT.  1G9 

of  the  other  seventy-two  chapters  of  the  rule  consist  of 
regulations  respecting  the  organization  and  manage- 
ment of  their  society,  which  would,  of  course,  occupy 
the  most  room ;  but  it  seems  to  me  that  this  one  chap- 
ter should  at  least  qualify  the  statements  of  those  who 
profess  to  have  found  nothing  but  a  body  of  heartless 
forms  \ 

"1.  In  the  first  place,  to  love  the  Lord  God  with  the  whole 
heart,  whole  soul,  whole  strength.  2.  Then  his  neighbour 
as  himself.  3.  Then  not  to  kill.  4.  Then  not  to  commit 
adultery.  5.  Not  to  steal.  6.  Not  to  covet.  7.  Not  to  bear 
false  witness.  8.  To  honour  all  men.  9.  And  what  any  one 
would  not  have  done  to  him,  let  him  not  do  to  another. 
10.  To  deny  himself,  that  he  may  follow  Christ.  11.  To 
chasten  the  body.  12.  To  renounce  luxuries.  13.  To  love 
fasting.  14.  To  relieve  the  poor.  15.  To  clothe  the  naked. 
16.  To  visit  the  sick.  17.  To  bury  the  dead.  18.  To  help 
in  tribulation.  19.  To  console  the  afflicted.  20.  To  disen- 
gage himself  from  worldly  affairs.  21.  To  set  the  love  of 
Christ  before  all  other  things.  22.  Not  to  give  way  to  anger. 
23.  Not  to  bear  any  grudge.  24.  Not  to  harbour  deceit  in 
the  heart.  25.  Not  to  make  false  peace.  26.  Not  to  forsake 
charity.  27.  Not  to  swear,  lest  haply  he  perjure  himself. 
28.  To  utter  truth  from  his  heart  and  his  mouth.  29.  Not 
to  return  evil  for  evil.  30.  Not  to  do  injuries ;  and  to  bear 
them  patiently.  31.  To  love  his  enemies.  32.  Not  to  curse 
again  those  who  curse  him ;  but  rather  to  bless  them.  33. 
To  endure  persecutions  for  righteousness''  sake.  34.  Not  to 
be  proud.  35.  Not  given  to  wine.  36.  Not  gluttonous. 
37.  Not  addicted  to  sleep.  38.  Not  sluggish.  39.  Not 
given  to  murmur.  40.  Not  a  slanderer.  41.  To  commit  his 
hope  to  God.  42.  When  he  sees  any  thing  good  in  himself, 
to  attribute  it  to  God,  and  not  to  himself.     43.  But  let  him 


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


170  RULE    OF    ST.    BENEDICT.  [NO.  X. 

always  know,  that  which  is  evil  in  his  own  doing,  and  impute 
it  to  himself.  44.  To  fear  the  day  of  judgment.  45.  To 
dread  Hell.  46.  To  desire  eternal  life,  with  all  spiritual 
longing.  47.  To  have  the  expectation  of  death  every  day 
before  his  eyes.  48.  To  watch  over  his  actions  at  all  times. 
49.  To  know  certainly  that,  in  all  places,  the  eye  of  God  is 
upon  him.  50.  Those  evil  thoughts  which  come  into  his 
heart  immediately  to  dash  to  pieces  on  Christ.  51.  And  to 
make  them  known  to  his  spiritual  senior.  52.  To  keep  his 
lips  from  evil  and  wicked  discourse.  53.  Not  to  be  fond  of 
much  talking.  54.  Not  to  speak  vain  words,  or  such  as  pro- 
voke laughter.  55.  Not  to  love  much  or  violent  laughter. 
56.  To  give  willing  attention  to  the  sacred  readings.  57.  To 
pray  frequently.  58.  Every  day  to  confess  his  past  sins  to 
God,  in  prayer,  with  tears  and  groaning ;  from  thenceforward 
to  reform  as  to  those  sins.  59.  Not  to  fulfil  the  desires  of 
the  flesh ;  to  hate  self-will.  60.  In  all  things  to  obey  the 
commands  of  the  abbot,  even  though  he  himself  (which  God 
forbid)  should  do  otherwise ;  remembering  our  Lord's  com- 
mand, '  What  they  say,  do ;  but  what  they  do,  do  ye  not/ 
61.  Not  to  desire  to  be  called  a  saint  before  he  is  one,  but 
first  to  be  one  that  he  may  be  truly  called  one.  62.  Every 
day  to  fulfil  the  commands  of  God  in  action.  63.  To  love 
chastity.  64.  To  hate  nobody.  65.  To  have  no  jealousy; 
to  indulge  no  envy.  66.  Not  to  love  contention.  67.  To 
avoid  self-conceit.  68.  To  reverence  seniors.  69.  To  love 
juniors.  70.  To  pray  for  enemies,  in  the  love  of  Christ. 
71.  After  a  disagreement,  to  be  reconciled  before  the  going 
down  of  the  sun.  72.  And  never  to  despair  of  the  mercy  of 
God." 

I  apprehend  that  these  injunctions  are  better  than 
some  readers  would  have  expected  to  find  ;  and  should 
it  appear  that,  on  the  wdiole,  they  are  defective  either 
as  to  doctrine,  or  instruction,  let  it  be  remembered  that 
St.  Benedict  did  not  intend  that  his  Rule  should  super- 
sede the  Holy  Scriptures.  He  did  not  mean  to  give 
his  disciples  the  traditions  of  men  instead  of  the  word 
of  God.  He  told  them  plainly  that  the  most  perfect 
Rule  of  life  is  contained  in  the  Old  and  New  Testa- 


NO.  XI.]       LEARNING  OF  THE  CLERGY.  171 

ment 6 ;  and  that  he  expected  them  to  be  assiduous  in 
reading  the  Scriptures,  and  the  works  of  some  of  the 
Fathers,  is  clear.  This  species  of  study,  and  this  only, 
he  enjoined  upon  them ;  and  as  to  their  practice  in  this 
respect  I  hope  to  speak  hereafter.  In  the  meantime, 
I  just  observe  that  thus  to  read  (or  to  be  read  to,  if  he 
could  not  read)  was  all  that  was  required  of  a  monk. 

It  may,  however,  be  said,  that  supposing  the  monks 
to  have  kept  to  their  original  state,  and  to  have  lived 
in  all  things  according  to  their  Rules,  they  might  not, 
perhaps,  have  been  so  much  to  blame  for  the  want  of 
learning,  but  that,  by  the  times  with  which  we  are 
concerned,  most  of  them  were  priests,  and  that  the 
clergy — well,  I  fully  admit  that  as  clergy  they  were 
bound  to  be  more  learned  than  other  men ;  but  at  pre- 
sent, as  Jerome  says,  "  quod  loquor,  non  de  episcopis, 
non  de  presbyteris,  non  de  clericis  loquor;  sed  de 
monacho  7."  I  desire,  first,  to  place  the  question  on 
its  right  footing,  and  trust  that  I  shall  not  be  found 
reluctant  to  acknowledge  that  the  clergv  ought  to  be 
the  most  learned  class  in  the  community.  In  fact,  they 
always  were  so,  and  this  I  hope  to  shew. 


No.  XL 


"  Alia,  ut  ante  perstrinxi,  raonachorum  est  causa  :  alia  clericorum.  Clerici 
pascunt  oves  ;  ego  pascor." — Hieronymus. 

It  will  be  readily  admitted  that  those  who  profess  to 
teach  others  should  be  more  learned  than  the  rest  of 


6  "  Quae  enim  pagina,  aut  quis  sermo  divina?  auctoritatis  veteris  ac  novi 
Testamenti,  non  est  rectissima  norma  vitae  humana?,"  &c.  Cop.  lxxiii ; 
which  is  entitled  "  De  eo  quod  non  omnis  observatio  justitia?  in  hac  sit 
Regula  constituta." 

7  Ad  Paulin. 


172  DARK-AGE    VIEW  [NO.  XI. 

the  community.  This  was,  however,  the  very  point  of 
difference  between  the  monks  and  the  clergy — "  mona- 
chus  non  docentis,  sed  plangentis  habet  officium,"  said 
Jerome,  and  a  monk,  as  such,  had  no  business,  and  did 
not,  in  fact,  pretend,  to  teach  anything  or  anybody. 
This,  though  strictly  applicable  only  to  the  original 
state  of  things,  may  be,  in  some  degree,  applied  to  the 
subsequent  condition  of  monastic  institutions,  when  most 
of  the  monks  were  priests ;  because  the  real  and  prac- 
tical difference  is  between  those  who  live  in  the  world 
with,  and  for  the  sake  of,  the  cure  of  souls,  and  those 
who,  either  for  devotion  or  for  any  other  reason,  live 
out  of  the  world — in  the  cell  or  the  cloister !. 

Notwithstanding — or,  perhaps,  I  ought  rather  to  say, 
by  reason  of — this,  the  monks  took  the  lead  in  learning. 
It  is  not  worth  while  here  to  enter  into  all  the  reasons 
of  this,  while  there  is  one  that  is  so  obvious — namely, 
that  they  led  quiet,  retired,  and  regular  lives ;  and  that 
if  they  could  not  be  originally,  or  at  all  times,  said  to 
have  more  leisure  than  the  secular  clergy,  their  employ- 
ments and  habits  were  of  a  nature  less  unfriendly  to 
study.     Instead,  therefore,  of  now  entering  into  this 


1  That  which  St.  Jerome  so  pithily  expressed,  is  more  diffusely  stated 
by  St.  Ambrose — "  Namque  haec  duo  in  adtentiore  christianorum  devo- 
tione  praestantiora  esse  quis  ambigat,  clericorum  officia,  et  monachorum 
instituta  ?  Ista  ad  commoditatem  et  moralitatem  disciplina,  ilia  ad  absti- 
nentiam  adsuefacta  atque  patientiam :  hsec  velut  in  quodam  theatro,  ilia  in 

secreto :  spectatur  ista,  ilia  absconditur Haec  ergo  vita  in  stadio, 

ilia  in  spelunca;  haec  adversus  confusionem  saeculi,  ilia  adversus  carnis 
appetentiam  :  haec  subjiciens,  ilia  refugiens  corporis  voluptates  :  haec  gra- 
tior,  ilia  tutior :  haec  seipsam  regens,  ilia  semet  ipsam  coercens :  utraque 
tarnen  se  abnegans,  ut  fiat  Christi ;  quia  perfectis  dictum  est :  '  Qui  vult 
post  me  venire,  abneget  seipsum  sibi,  et  tollat  crucem  suam,  et  sequatur 
me.'  .  .  .  Haec  ergo  dimicat,  ilia  se  removet :  haec  illecebras  vincit,  ilia 
refugit :  huic  mundus  triumphatur,  illi  exsulat :  huic  mundus  crucifigitur, 
vel  ipsa  mundo,  illi  ignoratur :  huic  plura  tentamenta,  et  ideo  major 
victoria;  illi  infrequentior  lapsus,  facilior  custodia." — Ep.  lxiii.  torn.  ii. 
p.  1039. 


NO.  XI.]  OF    PROFANE    LEARNING.  17 


Q 


matter,  let  us  come  at  once  to  a  question  which  must 
be  met  if  we  are  to  understand  each  other  or  the  sub- 
ject,— for  I  cannot  help  fearing  that,  while  speaking  of 
the  dark  ages,  I  and  some,  at  least,  of  my  readers  may 
be  thinking  of  very  different  things,  under  the  same 
name — What  is  learning?  or,  to  put  the  question  in  a 
more  limited  and  less  troublesome  form — What  did 
the  people  of  the  dark  ages  think  on  this  subject  ?  It 
might,  I  think,  be  shewn  that  there  were  a  good  many 
persons  in  those  ages  not  so  destitute  of  all  that  is  now 
called  learning  as  some  have  asserted,  and  many,  with- 
out much  inquiry,  believe.  I  might  ask,  how  does  it 
happen  that  the  classics,  and  the  older  works  on  art  or 
science,  have  been  preserved  in  existence  ?  and  I  might, 
with  still  greater  force  (but  obviously  with  intolerable 
prolixity),  appeal  to  the  works  of  writers  of  those  ages 
to  shew  that  they  knew  the  meaning  of  that  which,  no 
one  can  deny,  they  preserved  and  multiplied.  But  this 
is  not  to  our  present  purpose ;  and  the  proper  answer 
is.  that  people  in  those  days  were  brought  up  with 
views  respecting  profane  learning  which  it  is  necessary 
for  us  to  understand  before  we  form  our  judgment  of 
the  men ;  and,  as  I  have  never  seen  these  views  clearly 
stated,  I  will  take  leave  to  sav  a  few  words  about 
them. 

"  Quid  ergo  Athenis  et  Hierosolymis  ?  quid  Academia? 
et  Ecclesiae?  quid  haereticis  et  Christianis?  Nostra 
institutio  de  porticu  Salomonis  est :  qui  et  ipse  tradi- 
derat,  Dominum  in  simplicitate  cordis  esse  quserendum. 
Viderint  qui  Stoicum,  et  Platonicum,  et  Dialecticum 
Christianismum  protulerunt.  Nobis  curiositate  opus 
non  est  post  Christum  Jesum,  nee  inquisitione  post 
evangelium.  Cum  credimus,  nihil  desideramus  ultra 
credere.  Hoc  enim  prius  credimus,  non  es>e.  quod 
ultra  credere  debemus."  These  are  not  the  words  of 
a  monk  of  the  tenth  century,  but  of  a  priest  of  the 


174  DARK-AGE    VIEW  [NO.  XI. 

second ;  and  how  far  it  might  have  been  better  or 
worse  if  the  Christian  church  had  maintained,  and 
acted  on,  the  feeling  which  they  express,  this  is  not 
the  place  to  discuss.  In  point  of  fact,  the  rigour  of 
the  law  here  laid  down  was  soon  softened, — or  per- 
haps I  should  say  that  an  excuse  was  soon  provided 
for  those  who  were  enamoured  of  profane  learning. 
They  were  not  to  go  down  to  Egypt  for  help.  Un- 
doubtedly, that  was  quite  clear;  but  it  was  equally 
clear  that  they  might  spoil  the  Egyptians,  and  bring 
that  silver  and  gold  which,  wherever  they  may  be 
found,  are  the  Lord's,  into  the  camp  of  his  people. 
They  were  not  to  contract  alliances  with  the  heathen. 
Certainly  not ;  but  if,  in  the  course  of  war,  they  should 
see  among  the  spoil  a  beautiful  captive,  it  was  lawful 
to  bring  her  home ;  and,  when  her  head  had  been 
shaved,  and  her  nails  pared,  to  take  her  to  wife.  These 
fancies  were,  as  far  as  I  know,  excogitated  by  Origen, 
— the  man,  perhaps,  of  all  others  most  bound,  and  best 
able,  to  devise  some  excuse  for  a  practice  which  the 
severe  and  exclusive  purity  of  primitive  Christianity 
had  condemned 2. 


2  In  his  letter  to  Gregory  (torn  i.  p.  30),  he  suggests  that  this  might  be 
really  intended  by  the  command  given  to  the  Israelites  to  borrow  from  the 
Egyptians.  As  to  the  captive,  after  quoting  the  law  (Deut.  xxi.  10),  he 
says — "  And  to  say  the  truth,  I  also  have  frequently  gone  out  to  battle 
against  my  enemies,  and  there  I  have  seen,  among  the  spoil,  a  woman 
beautiful  to  behold.  For  whatever  we  find  that  is  well  and  rationally  said 
in  the  works  of  our  enemies,  if  we  read  anything  that  is  said  wisely  and 
according  to  knowledge,  we  ought  to  cleanse  it,  and  from  that  knowledge 
which  they  possess  to  remove  and  cut  off  all  that  is  dead  and  useless, — for 
such  are  all  the  hair  of  the  head,  and  the  nails  of  the  woman  taken  out  of 
the  spoils  of  the  enemy, — and  then  at  length  to  make  her  our  wife,  when 
she  no  longer  has  any  of  those  things  which  for  their  infidelity  are  called 
dead.  Nothing  dead  on  her  head  or  in  her  hands :  so  that  neither  in 
senses,  nor  in  action,  she  should  have  anything  that  is  unclean  or  dead 
about  her."  In  Levit.  Horn.  VII.  torn.  ii.  p.  227.  If  Origen's  plaything 
were  not  the  Word  of  God,  one  might  often  be  amused  with  his  childish 
fooleries ;  but  when  we  consider  what  mischief  has  been  done  to  truth  by 


NO.  XI.]  OF    PROFANE    LEARNING.  175 

Whether  it  was  entirely  valid  or  not,  however,  this 
was,  for  more  than  a  thousand  years,  the  standing  ex- 
cuse for  those  who  were  conscious  (not  to  say  vain)  of 
their  heathenish  acquirements.  Take,  for  instance — 
and  as  a  specimen  of  the  feeling  at  a  period  with  which 
we  are  at  present  more  concerned  than  with  that  of 
Tertullian  or  Origen — a  letter  and  answer  which  passed 
between  a  prior  and  an  abbot  in  the  year  1150 : — 

"  To  his  Lord,  the  Venerable  Abbot  of ,  R.  wishes 

health  and  happiness.  Although  you  desire  to  have  the 
books  of  Tully,  I  know  that  you  are  a  Christian  and  not  a 
Ciceronian.  But  you  go  over  to  the  camp  of  the  enemy,  not 
as  a  deserter,  but  as  a  spy.  I  should,  therefore,  have  sent 
you  the  books  of  Tully  which  we  have  De  Re  Agraria,  Phi- 


the  way  of  allegorizing  (or,  as  it  is  now  called,  spiritualizing)  the  Bible,  it 
cannot  be  looked  on  without  disgust.  Of  course,  the  next  step  is  to  despise 
and  get  rid  of  the  letter  of  Scripture,  as  Jerome  does  most  unceremo- 
niously (not  to  say  blasphemously)  in  this  very  case.  After  telling  us  that 
the  husks,  in  the  parable  of  the  prodigal  son  may  mean  poetry,  rhetoric, 
and  the  wisdom  of  this  world,  he  adds — "Hujus  sapientia?  typus  et  in 
Deuteronomio  sub  mulieris  captivae  figura  describitur  :  de  qua  divina  vox 
praecipit :  ut  si  Israelites  earn  habere  voluerit  uxorem,  calvitium  ei  faciat, 
ungues  praesecet,  et  pilos  auferat :  et  cum  munda  fuerit  effecta  tunc  transeat 
in  victoris  amplexus.  Haec  si  secundum  literam  intelligimus  nonne  ridi- 
cula  sunt?  Itaque  et  nos  hoc  facere  solemus  quando  philosophos  legi- 
mus,"  &c. — Ad  Damas.  torn.  iii.  p.  44,  M.  My  object  here,  however,  is 
only  to  shew  whence  certain  opinions  and  feelings  of  the  dark  ages  were 
derived.  The  reader  who  thinks  what  I  have  said  insufficient  may  see 
the  account  which  Jerome  gives,  in  his  epistle  to  Eustochium,  of  his  being 
brought  before  the  judgment-seat,  and  punished  as  a  Ciceronian.  The 
story  is  too  long  to  be  extracted  here,  and  too  well  known,  perhaps,  to 
require  it.  At  all  events,  it  was  well  known  in  the  dark  ages.  He  intro- 
duces it  by  saying — "  Quae  enim  communicatio  luci  ad  tenebras  ?  qui  con- 
sensus Christo  cum  Balial  ?  Quid  facit  cum  Psalterio  Horatius  ?  cum 
Evangeliis,  Maro  ?  Cum  Apostolis,  Cicero?"  &c. — torn.  i.  p.  51,  C.  To 
this  we  may  add,  the  first  book  of  Augustine's  Confessions,  c.  12,  and 
thenceforth.  Stronger  things  than  these  fathers  wrote  are  not,  I  believe, 
to  be  found  in  the  writings  of  the  dark  ages.  Some  of  what  Jerome  says  it 
would  hardly  do  to  produce  in  the  present  day — for  instance,  "  At  nunc 
etiam  sacerdotes  Dei,  omissis  evangeliis  et  prophetis,  videmus  comoedias 
legere,  amatoria  Bucolicorum  versuum  verba  canere,  tenere  Virgilium:  et 
id  quod  in  pueris  necessitatis  est,  crimen  in  se  facere  voluptatis,"  &c. 


176  DARK-AGE    VIEW  [NO.  XI. 

lippics  and  Epistles,  but  that  it  is  not  our  custom  that  any 
books  should  be  lent  to  any  person  without  good  pledges. 
Send  us,  therefore,  the  Noctes  Atticse  of  Aulus  Gellius,  and 
Origen  on  the  Canticles.  The  books  which  we  have  just 
brought  from  France,  if  you  wish  for  any  of  them,  I  will 
send  you.11 

The  Abbot  replied — 

"  Brother ,  by  the  grace  of  God  what  he  is  in  the 

Catholic  Church,  to   his  friend   R.,    the  venerable    Prior   of 
H -,  blessing  and  life  eternal.     You   have  rightly  re- 
minded me,  brother,  that  though  I  may  have  the  books  of 
Cicero,  yet  I  should  remember  that  I  am  a  Christian ;  and  as 
you  have  written  (and  as  your  Seneca  says  of  himself)   I  go 
over  sometimes  to  the  enemies1  camp,  not  as  a  deserter  or 
traitor,  but  as  a  spy,  and  one  who  is  desirous  of  spoil,  if  haply 
I  may  take  prisoner  some   Midianitish  woman,  whom,  after 
her  head  has  been  shaved,  and  her  nails  have  been  pared,  I 
may  lawfully  take  to  wife.     And  though  I  deserve  only  to  be 
a  stranger — or,  indeed,  an  exile — in  a  far  country,  neverthe- 
less I  desire  rather  to  be  filled  with  that  bread  which  came 
down  from   heaven,    than   to    fill   my   belly   with   the   husks 
which  the  swine  do  eat.     The  dishes  prepared  by  Cicero  do 
not  form  the  principal,  or  the  first,  course  at  my  table  ;  but 
if,  at  any  time,  when  filled  with  better  food,  any  thing  of  his 
pleases  me,  I  take  it  as  one  does  the  trifles  which  are  set  on 
the  table  after  dinner.     For  it  is  even  a  kind  of  pleasure  to 
me  not  to  be  idle.     Nor,  indeed  (to  say  nothing  of  any  other 
reasons)  can  I  bear  that  that   noble  genius,  those   splendid 
imaginations,   such  great  beauties  both  of  thought  and  lan- 
guage, should  be  lost  in  oblivion  and  neglect ;  but  I  want  to 
make  into  one  volume  all  his  works  which  can  be  found ;  for 
I  have  no  sympathy  with   those    who,  neglecting  all  liberal 
studies,  are  careful  only  for  transitory  things  ;  and  who  col- 
lect that  they  may  disperse,  and  disperse  that  they  may  col- 
lect.    They  are  like  men  playing  at  ball — they  catch  eagerly, 
and  throw  away  quickly  ;  so  that  they  have  no  moderation 
either  in  catching  or  in  throwing  away.     Although  their  doc- 
trine is  praised  by  secular  persons  of  bad  character,  yet  if 
you  love  me,  you  will  avoid  it  as  poison,  and  the  death  of  the 
soul.     I  have  sent  you  as  pledges  for  your  books,  Origen  on 


NO.  XI.]  OF    PROFANE    LEARNING.  177 

the  Canticles,  and  instead  of  Aulus  Gellius  (which  I  could 
not  have  at  this  time)  a  book  which  is  called,  in  Greek, 
Strategematon,  which  is  military.'" 

It  must  be  observed,  however,  that  this  excuse  would 
scarcely  serve — indeed,  strictly  speaking,  it  could  not 
be  admitted  at  all — for  reading  heathen  works  of  fic- 
tion. The  Midianitish  captive  might  have  beauty,  and 
might  be  loved,  if  she  assumed  the  form  of  philosophy 
or  history,  art  or  science.  Truth,  wherever  found,  is 
truth  and  beauty ;  but  when  the  captive  appeared  in 
the  meretricious  form  of  poetry,  and  that,  too,  poetry 
about  false  gods — or,  more  plainly,  nonsense  about 
nonentities — or  even  coarsely,  as  they  would  have  ex- 
pressed it,  lies  about  devils — when  this  was  the  case, 
thev  thought  that  the  less  Christians  had  to  do  with  it 

J  © 

the  better.  Beside  this,  they  thought  that  Virgil  and 
Horace  (to  say  nothing  of  some  others)  spoke  of  things 
whereof  it  is  a  shame  to  speak — things  which  children 
should  not  be  taught,  and  which  it  were  better  that 
Christian  men  should  not  know.  This  was  their  feel- 
ing and  conviction ;  and  on  this  they  acted.  It  was 
not,  as  modern  conceit  loves  to  talk,  that  they  were 
ignorant  that  such  books  existed,  or  that  they  were 
men  so  destitute  of  brains  and  passions  as  not  to 
admire  the  language  in  which  the  heathen  poets  de- 
scribed, and  the  images  in  which  they  personified, 
ambition,  rage,  lust,  intemperance,  and  a  variety  of 
other  things  which  were  quite  contrary  to  the  Rules  of 

St.  Benedict  and  St.  Chrodeeaiiff. 

©     © 

I  grant  that  they  had  not  that  extravagant  and  fac- 
titious admiration  for  the  poets  of  antiquity,  which  they 
probably  would  have  had  if  they  had  been  brought  up 
to  read  them  before  they  could  understand  them,  and 
to  admire  them  as  a  necessary  matter  of  taste,  before 
they  could  form  any  intellectual  or  moral  estimate  of 
them  :   they  thought  too  that  there  were  worse  things 

N 


178  DARK-AGE    VIEW  [NO.  XI. 

in  the  world  than  false  quantities,  and  preferred  run- 
ning the  risque  of  them  to  some  other  risques  which 
they  apprehended3;  but  yet  there  are  instances  enough 
of  the  classics  (even  the  poets)  being  taught  in  schools, 
and  read  by  individuals ;  and  it  cannot  be  doubted  that 
they  might  have  been,  and  would  have  been,  read  by 
more,  but  for  the  prevalence  of  that  feeling  which  I 
have  described ;  and  which,  notwithstanding  these 
exceptions,  was  very  general.  Modern,  and,  as  it  is 
supposed,  more  enlightened,  views  of  education,  have 
decided  that  this  was  all  wrong;  but  let  us  not  set 
down  what  was  at  most  an  error  of  judgment,  as  mere 
stupidity  and  a  proof  of  total  barbarism.  If  the  modern 
ecclesiastic  should  ever  meet  with  a  crop-eared  monk 
of  the  tenth  century,  he  may,  if  he  pleases,  laugh  at 
him  for  not  having  read  Virgil ;  but  if  he  should  him- 
self be  led  to  confess  that,  though  a  priest  of  Christ's 


3  When  our  Archbishop  Lanfranc  was  a  monk  at  Bee,  but  at  a  time 
when  the  most  renowned  teachers  of  Latin  were  coming  to  him  for  in- 
struction— clerici  accurrunt,  Ducum  filii,  nominatissimi  scholarum  latini- 
tatis  magistri — he  was  one  day  officiating  as  reader  at  table,  when  the 
prior  corrected,  or  thought  that  he  corrected,  him  for  a  false  quantity.  "  It 
was,"  says  his  biographer,  "  as  if  he  had  said  docere  with  the  middle  sylla- 
ble long,  as  it  is  ;  and  he  [the  prior]  would  have  corrected  it,  by  shorten- 
ing the  middle  syllable  to  docere,  which  it  is  not,  for  that  prior  was  not 
learned.  But  the  wise  man,  knowing  that  obedience  was  due  to  Christ 
rather  than  to  Donatus,  gave  up  the  right  pronunciation,  and  said  as  he 
was  improperly  told  to  say.  For  he  knew  that  a  false  quantity  was  not  a 
capital  crime,  but  that  to  disobey  one  who  commanded  him  in  God's 
stead  (jubenti  ex  parte  Dei)  was  no  trifling  sin." — Mab.  A.  S.  IX.  635. 
By  way  of  a  set-ofF  to  some  things  which  I  have  quoted,  and  a 
specimen  of  the  exceptions  of  which  I  speak,  I  may  add  what  the 
biographer  of  Herluin  (who  was  Abbot  of  Bee  at  this  time)  says  of 
this  confluence  of  learned  men.  He  tells  us  that  the  monastery  in- 
creased in  a  variety  of  ways,  as  to  fame,  revenue,  &c. — "  Viris  litteratis 
undecumque  confluentibus  cum  ornamentis  et  spoliis  quibus  spoliaverant 
/Egyptum,  que  cultui  tabernaculi  postmodum  forent  accommoda.  Poe- 
tarum  quippe  figmenta,  philosophorum  scientia  et  artium  liberalium 
discipline  Scripturis  sacris  intelligendis  valde  sunt  necessaria." — Ibid. 
3G4. 


NO.    XI.]  OF    PROFANE    LEARNING.  179 

catholic  church,  and  nourished  in  the  languages  of 
Greece  and  Rome  till  they  were  almost  as  familiar  to 
him  as  his  own,  he  had  never  read  a  single  page  of 
Chrysostom  or  Basil,  of  Augustine  or  Jerome,  of  Am- 
brose or  Hilary — if  he  should  confess  this,  I  am  of 
opinion  that  the  poor  monk  would  cross  himself,  and 
make  off  without  looking  behind  him. 

So  different  are  the  feelings  of  men,  and  I  doubt 
whether  it  is  possible  for  any  man  in  the  present  day 
to  form  a  complete  idea  of  the  state  of  feeling  on  this 
subject  which  existed  for  many  centuries ;  but  it  is 
very  desirable  that  it  should  be  understood,  and  per- 
haps it  may  be  illustrated  by  a  few  extracts  from 
writers  of  different  periods. 

Pope  Gregory  wrote  a  letter  to  Desiderius,  a  Bishop 
of  Gaul,  which  begins  thus  : — "Having  received  much 
pleasing  information  respecting  your  studies,  such  joy 
arose  in  my  heart  that  I  could  not  on  any  account 
think  of  refusing  what  you,  my  brother,  requested. 
But  after  this  I  was  informed  (what  I  cannot  repeat 
without  shame)  that  you,  my  brother,  teach  certain 
persons  grammar 4.  At  this  I  was  so  grieved,  and  con- 
ceived so  strong  a  disgust,  that  I  exchanged  the  feel- 
ings which  I  have  described  for  groans  and  sadness; 

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

'  N  2 


180  DARK-AGE    VIEW  [xo.  XL 

for  it  cannot  be  that  the  praises  of  Jupiter  and  the 
praises  of  Christ  should  proceed  from  the  same  mouth. 
Consider,  yourself,  how  sad  and  wicked  a  thing  it  is 
(quam  grave  nefandumque  sit)  for  a  bishop  to  sing 
what  would  be  unfit  for  a  religious  layman;  and 
although  my  most  dear  son,  Candidus,  the  priest,  who 
came  afterwards,  being  strictly  examined  as  to  this 
matter,  denied  it,  and  endeavoured  to  excuse  you,  yet 
my  mind  is  not  satisfied.  For  as  it  is  horrible  that 
such  a  thing  should  be  told  of  a  priest,  (execrabile  est 
hoc  de  sacerdote  enarrari,)  so  should  the  investigation 
of  its  truth  or  falsehood  be  strict  in  proportion.  If, 
therefore,  the  information  which  I  have  received  shall 
hereafter  be  shewn  to  be  false,  and  it  shall  appear  that 
you  are  not  studying  trifles  and  secular  literature,  I 
shall  give  thanks  to  God,  wTho  has  not  suffered  your 
mind  to  be  polluted  with  the  blasphemous  praises  of 
the  wicked,  and  we  shall  then  confer,  safely  and  with- 
out hesitation,  on  the  subject  of  your  requests  V 

Our  countryman,  Alcwin,  was  probably  born  about 
the  year  735,  devoted  to  the  church  as  soon  as  he  was 
weaned,  and  brought  up  in  it.  His  biographer,  who 
was  his  contemporary,  or  within  a  few  years  of  him, 
tells  us  that,  when  a  child,  he  frequented  the  daily  ser- 
vices of  the  church,  but  was  apt  to  neglect  those  which 
were  performed  in  the  night.  When  he  was  about 
eleven  years  old,  it  happened  that  a  lay-brother  who 
inhabited  a  cell c  belonging  to  the  monastery,  was  one 


5  Lib.  IX.  Ep.  xlviii. 

6  These  cells  were  little  establishments  which  rose  up  like  offsets  round 
monasteries,  and  properly  consisted  of  a  few  (perhaps  from  two  to  half-a- 
dozen)  monks  placed  there  by  the  superiors  of  the  monastery,  and  living 
under  its  rule,  either  that  they  might  be  on  the  spot  for  the  protection  and 
cultivation  of  property  belonging  to  the  monastery — or  because  they  de- 
sired to  lead  a  more  solitary  life  than  they  could  do  in  the  monastery, — or 
because  applications  for  admissions  were  so  numerous,  that  in  order  to 
admit  those  who  applied  it  was  necessary  that  some  of  the  older  monks 


NO.  XI.]  OF    PROFANE    LEARNING.  181 

day,  by  some  accident,  deprived  of  his  usual  compa- 
nions, and  petitioned  the  schoolmaster  of  the  monas- 
tery that  one  of  the  boys  might  come  up  and  sleep 
there  that  night;  being,  perhaps,  afraid  to  pass  the 
hours  of  darkness  alone.  Alcwin  was  sent,  and  they 
retired  to  rest;  and  when,  about  cock-crowing,  they 
were  waked  by  the  signal  for  service,  the  rustic  monk 
only  turned  in  bed,  and  went  to  sleep  again.  Not  so 
Alcwin ;  who  soon  perceived,  with  horror  and  astonish- 
ment, that  the  room  was  full  of  daemons.  They  sur- 
rounded the  bed  of  the  sleeping  rustic,  and  cried — 
"  You  sleep  well,  brother ! "  He  woke  immediately, 
and  they  repeated  their  salutation.  "  Why,"  they 
added,  "  do  you  alone  lie  snoring  here,  while  all  your 
brethren  are  watching  in  the  church?"  Quid  multa? 
says  the  historian;  and  indeed  every  body  may  guess 
what  ensued — they  gave  him  an  awful  drubbing,  which, 
we  are  told,  was  not  only  very  beneficial  to  him,  but 
was  matter  of  warning  and  rejoicing  (cautelam  et  can- 
ticum)  to  others.  In  the  meantime,  poor  Alcwin,  as 
he  afterwards  related,  lay  trembling,  under  the  persua- 
sion that  his  turn  would  come  next;  and  said  in  his 
inmost  heart — "  O  Lord  Jesus,  if  thou  wilt  deliver  me 
from  their  bloody  hands,  and  afterwards  I  am  negligent 
of  the  vigils  of  thy  church  and  of  the  service  of  lauds, 
and  continue  to  love  Virgil  more  than  the  melody  of 
the  Psalms,  then  may  I  undergo  such  correction ;  only 
I  earnestly  pray  that  thou  wouldest  now  deliver  me." 
Alcwin  escaped;  but  in  order  to  impress  it  on  his 
memory,  his  biographer  says,  he  was  subjected  to  some 
farther  alarm.     The  daemons,  having  finished  the  casti- 


should  swarm  out, — or  because  those  who  had  given  certain  property  had 
made  it  a  condition  that  monks  should  be  settled  on  the  spot.  The  reader 
will  imagine  that,  if  not  so  originally  (as  in  most  cases  it  was)  the  cell 
generally  became  a  farm ;  and  often  the  oratory  grew  into  a  church,  a 
monastery,  a  town,  &c. 


182  DARK-AGE    VIEW  [NO.  XI. 

gation  of  his  companion,  looked  about  them  and  found 
the  boy,  completely  covered  up  in  his  bed-clothes, 
panting  and  almost  senseless.  "  Who  is  the  other  that 
sleeps  in  the  house?"  said  the  chief  of  the  daemons. 
"  The  boy,  Alcwin,  is  hidden  in  that  bed,"  replied  the 
others.  Finding  that  he  was  discovered,  his  suppressed 
grief  and  horror  burst  forth  in  tears  and  screaming. 
His  persecutors  being  restrained  from  executing  all 
that  their  cruelty  would  have  desired,  began  to  consult 
together.  An  unfortunate  hiatus  in  the  MS.  prevents 
us  from  knowing  all  that  they  said ;  but  it  appears  that 
they  came  to  a  resolution  not  to  beat  him,  but  to  turn 
up  the  clothes  at  the  bottom  of  the  bed  and  cut  his 
corns,  by  way  of  making  him  remember  his  promise  7. 
Already  were  the  clothes  thrown  back,  when  Alcwin 
jumped  up,  crossed  himself,  and  sung  the  twelfth  Psalm 
with  all  his  might :  the  daemons  vanished,  and  he  and 
his  companion  set  off  to  the  church  for  safety 8. 

Some  readers  will  perhaps  doubt  whether  all  the 
monks  were  in  the  church  during  this  scene  in  the 
cell ;  but,  without  arguing  on  the  daemonology  of  the 
story,  I  quote  it  to  shew  the  nature  of  the  sin  which 
lay  on  the  child's  conscience,  when  he  thought  that  he 
was  in  the  hands  of  devils.  He  was,  as  his  biographer 
had  before  said,  even  at  that  early  age,  "  Virgilii  amplius 
quam  Psalmorum  amator;"  but  he  received  a  lesson 
which  he  never  forgot.  Speaking  of  him  in  after  life, 
and  when  he  had  become  celebrated  as  a  teacher,  his 
biographer  says — "  This  man  of  God  had,  when  he  was 
young,  read  the  books  of  the  ancient  philosophers,  and 
the  lies  of  Virgil,  which  he  did  not  wish  now  to  hear, 


7  As  the  passage  now  stands  it  is — M  Non  istum  verberibus,  quia  rudis 
adhuc  est,  acris  ....  pedum  tantum,  in  quibus  duritia  inest  calli,  tonsione 
cultelli  castigemus,  et  emendationem  sponsionis  nunc  sua?  confirmabi- 
mus." 

8  Mab.  A.  S.  O.  B.  torn.  v.  p.  140. 


NO.  XI.]  OF    PROFANE    LEARNING.  183 

or  desire  that  his  disciples  should  read.  'The  sacred 
poets,'  said  he,  '  are  sufficient  for  you,  and  there  is  no 
reason  why  you  should  be  polluted  with  the  impure 
eloquence  of  Virgil's  language.'  Which  precept,  old 
Sigulfus  endeavoured  secretly  to  disobey,  and  for  so 
doing  he  was  afterwards  publicly  brought  to  shame. 
For,  calling  his  sons,  Adalbert  and  Aldric,  whom  he 
was  then  bringing  up,  he  ordered  them  to  read  Virgil 
with  him  in  the  most  secret  manner,  forbidding  them 
to  let  any  one  know  of  it,  lest  it  should  come  to  the 
knowledge  of  Father  Alcwin.  Alcwin,  however,  call- 
ing him  to  him  in  his  usual  manner,  said — '  Where  do 
you  come  from,  Vircfiliane  f  and  why  have  you  begun 
and  designed,  contrary  to  my  will  and  advice,  and  even 
without  my  knowledge,  to  read  Virgil?'  Sigulfus, 
throwing  himself  at  his  feet,  and  having  confessed  that 
he  had  acted  most  foolishly,  humbly  did  penance ; 
which  satisfaction  the  indulgent  father,  after  rebuking 
him,  kindly  received,  admonishing  him  not  to  do  so  any 
more.  The  worthy  man  of  God,  Aldric,  who  is  still 
alive,  and  an  abbot,  declares  that  neither  he  nor  Adal- 
bert had  divulged  the  matter  to  any  one ;  but  had,  all 
the  time,  as  they  were  directed,  kept  it  secret  from 
every  body 9." 

Passing  over  about  a  century,  we  are  told  by  the 
biographer  of  Odo,  Abbot  of  Clugni  (who  lived  until 
942),  that  he  was  so  seduced  by  the  love  of  knowledge, 
that  he  was  led  to  employ  himself  with  the  vanities  of 
the  poets,  and  resolved  to  read  the  works  of  Virgil 
regularly  through.  On  the  following  night,  however, 
he  saw  in  a  dream  a  large  vase,  of  marvellous  external 
beauty,  but  filled  with  innumerable  serpents,  who, 
springing  forth,  twined  about  him,  but  without  doing 
him  any  injury.     The  holy  man,  waking,  and  prudently 

n  Mab.  A.  S.  O.  B.  torn.  v.  p.  149. 


184  DARK-AGE    VIEW  [NO.  XI. 

considering  the  vision,  took  the  serpents  to  mean  the 
figments  of  the  poets,  and  the  vase  to  represent  Virgil's 
book,  which  was  painted  outwardly  with  worldly  elo- 
quence, but  internally  defiled  with  the  vanity  of  impure 
meaning.  From  thenceforward,  renouncing  Virgil  and 
his  pomps,  and  keeping  the  poets  out  of  his  chamber, 
he  sought  his  nourishment  from  the  sacred  writings  l. 

After  another  century — that  is,  about  the  middle  of 
the  eleventh — we  find  Peter  Damian  blaming  those 
monks  "  who  go  after  the  common  herd  of  grammarians 
(grammaticorum  vulgus),  who,  leaving  spiritual  studies, 
covet  to  learn  the  vanities  of  earthly  science ;  that  is, 
making  light  of  the  Rule  of  St.  Benedict,  they  love  to 
give  themselves  up  to  the  Rules  of  Donatus2 ;"  and, 
very  near  the  same  time,  our  Archbishop  Lanfranc 
wrote  to  Domnoaldus — "  You  have  sent  me  some  ques- 
tions respecting  secular  literature  for  solution ;  but  it 
is  unbecoming  the  episcopal  function  to  be  occupied 
in  such  studies.  Formerly,  I  spent  the  days  of  my 
youth  in  such  things  ;  but  on  taking  the  pastoral  office 
I  determined  to  renounce  them  3."  His  contemporary, 
Geronius,  abbot  at  Centule,  was  (his  biographer  tells 
us)  in  his  youth  accustomed  to  read  the  heathen  poets ; 
and  had  nearly  fallen  into  the  error  of  practising  what 
he  read  4. 

Honorius  (about  1120),  or  whoever  was  the  author 


1  Mab.  ubi  sup.  torn.  vii.  p.  187. 

2  Ap.  Mab.  Ibid.  Sasc.  III.  P.  I.  Praf.  No.  42,  p.  xvii.         3  Ibid. 

4  "  Sed,  ut  fieri  solet,  cum  adolescens  Grammatical  operam  daret,  et 
patulo  sensu  ipsorum  jam  carminum  vim  perpenderet,  animadvertitque 
inter  ea  quaedam,  quorum  omnis  intentio  hapc  est,  ut  aut  expletas  luxurias 
referant,  aut  quomodo  quis  explere  voluerit,  vel  explere  potuerit  re- 
censeant :  et  dum  talium  assidua  meditatione  polluitur  juvenis  mens 
casta,  turn  juvenili  fervore,  turn  turpium  verborum  auditione,  maxime 
vero  diaboli  instinctu  ad  hoc  ccepit  impelli,  ut  ea  faceret  qua?  tantorum 
Poetarum  a\stimabat  narratione  celebrari." — Chron.  Centulen.  ap.  Dach. 
Spidl.  ii.  338. 


NO.  XI.]  OF    PROFANE    LEARNING.  185 

of  the  Gemma  Anima?,  says — "  It  grieves  me  when  I 
consider  in  my  mind  the  number  of  persons  who, 
having  lost  their  senses,  are  not  ashamed  to  give  their 
utmost  labour  to  the  investigation  of  the  abominable 
figments  of  the  poets,  and  the  captious  arguments  of 
the  philosophers,  (which  are  wont  inextricably  to  bind 
the  mind  that  is  drawn  away  from  God  in  the  bonds 
of  vices,)  and  to  be  ignorant  of  the  Christian  profession, 
whereby  the  soul  may  come  to  reign  everlastingly  with 
God.  As  it  is  the  height  of  madness  to  be  anxious  to 
learn  the  laws  of  an  usurper,  and  to  be  ignorant  of  the 
edicts  of  the  lawful  sovereign.  Moreover,  how  is  the 
soul  profited  by  the  strife  of  Hector,  or  the  argumenta- 
tion of  Plato,  or  the  poems  of  Virgil,  or  the  elegies  of 
Ovid,  who  now,  with  their  like,  are  gnashing  their  teeth 
in  the  prison  of  the  infernal  Babylon,  under  the  cruel 
tyranny  of  Pluto?  But  the  wisdom  of  God  puts  the 
brightest  honour  on  him  who,  investigating  the  deeds 
and  writings  of  the  apostles,  has  his  mind  continually 
employed  on  those  whom  no  one  doubts  to  be  now 
reigning  in  the  palace  of  the  heavenly  Jerusalem,  with 
the  King  of  Glory 5." 

Let  me  add  an  extract  from  the  works  of  a  contem- 
porary, whose  name  is  too  well  known,  and  whose 
words  are  worth  copying,  because  he  was  quite  a  march- 
of-intellect  man.  Peter  Abelard,  after  quoting  the 
statements  of  Jerome,  and  saying  that,  from  the  injunc- 
tion laid  on  him,  some  persons  gathered  that  it  was  un- 
lawful to  read  any  secular  books,  adds,  "  I  conceive,  how- 
ever, that  reading  in  any  of  the  arts  is  not  forbidden  to 
a  religious  man ;  unless  it  may  be  that  by  it  his  greater 
usefulness  may  be  hindered ;  and  we  must  do  in  this  as 
we  know  must  be  done  in  some  other  good  things — 
namely,   the  less  must  sometimes  be  intermitted,    or 

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


186  DARK-AGE    VIEW  [NO.  XI. 

altogether  given  up,  for  the  sake  of  greater.  For  when 
there  is  no  falsehood  in  the  doctrine,  no  impropriety  in 
the  language,  some  utility  in  the  knowledge,  who  is  to 
be  blamed  for  learning  or  teaching  these  things?  un- 
less because,  as  I  have  already  said,  some  greater  good 
be  neglected  or  omitted ;  for  no  man  can  say  that 
knowledge  is,  strictly  speaking,  evil.  But  how  greatly 
this  may  be  done  to  our  condemnation  and  confusion 
every  reflecting  person  may  see ;  since  we  are  not  only 
told  that  '  the  mouth  that  belieth  slayeth  the  soul ' 
(Wisd.  i.  11),  but  also  that  an  account  will  be  required 
of  every  idle  word.  If  a  Christian  chooses  to  read  for 
critical  knowledge  of  phrases  and  forms  of  speech,  may 
he  not  do  this  sufficiently  without  studying  the  figments 
of  the  poets  and  foolish  tales  ?  What  kind  of  phrase- 
ology, what  ornament  of  language  is  there,  which  the 
phrase  of  scripture  does  not  supply?  Full  as  it  is  of 
enigmatical  allegories,  and  abounding  as  it  does  with 
mystical  language,  what  elegances  of  speech  are  there 
which  may  not  be  learned  from  the  mother  tongue, 
Hebrew  ?  especially  when  it  appears  that  the  common 
people  of  Palestine  were  so  accustomed  to  parables, 
that  it  behoved  the  Lord  Jesus  to  address  them  in  that 
way  when  he  preached  the  Gospel  to  them.  What 
dainty  can  be  wanting  at  the  spiritual  table  of  the 
Lord, — that  is,  the  Sacred  Scripture — wherein,  accord- 
ing to  Gregory,  both  the  elephant  may  swim  and  the 
lamb  may  walk  ? "  Then,  after  proceeding  to  shew  that 
as  much,  and  as  good,  language  as  can  be  wanted,  may 
be  had  from  Jerome,  Augustine,  Cyprian,  and  other 
Christian  writers,  he  says — "  Why  then  do  not  the 
bishops  and  doctors  of  the  Christian  religion  expel 
from  the  city  of  God,  those  poets  whom  Plato  forbade 
to  enter  into  his  city  of  the  world6?" 

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


NO.    XII.]  OF    PROFANE    LEARNING.  187 

I  might  go  on  with  extracts  of  this  kind  until  we 
should  come  again  to  De  Ranee ;  but  I  am  afraid  that 
the  reader  may  think  that  I  have  already  cited  more 
testimonies  than  enough  on  this  point.  Should  there, 
however,  be  any  thing  like  tautology  in  them,  I  beg 
him  to  remember  that  my  object  in  bringing  them 
forward  is  to  describe  and  illustrate  a  feeling  which 
existed  very  generally  in  the  Christian  church  before, 
and  through,  and  after,  the  Dark  Ages.  That  there 
were,  even  in  those  days,  reading  men,  I  hope  to  shew : 
and  that  they  did  not  give  the  first  place  to  classical  or 
scientific  learning  I  allow,  though  I  cannot  admit  that 
it  was  from  pure  ignorance  of  the  sources  of  informa- 
tion ;  and  the  question  naturally  arises — What  did  they 
read  ?  This  inquiry  I  hope  to  pursue,  and  to  begin  by 
shewing  that  there  were  some  persons — perhaps  a  good 
many — who  read  the  Bible. 


No.  XII. 


Omissis  igitur  et  repudiatis  nugis  theatricis  et  poeticis,  divinarum  Scrip- 
turarum  consideratione,  et  tractatione  pascamus  animum  atque  poteraus 
vanae  curiositatis  fame  ac  siti  fessum  et  aestuantem,  et  inanibus  phantas- 
matibus,    tanquam   pictis   epulis,  frustra   refici    satiarique   cupientem. — 

AUGUSTIN'US. 

There  is  no  subject  in  the  history  of  mankind  which 
appears  to  me  more  interesting,  and  more  worthy  of 
investigation,  than  the  actual  state  of  the  Christian 
church  during  the  dark  ages.  It  is,  as  I  have  already 
said,  with  a  view  to  this  that  I  have  entered  on  this 
^•ries  of  papers  ;  and  having  now,  I  trust,  in  some 
degree,  cleared  the  way,  by  exposing  some  popular 
misstatements,  I  hope  to  come  more  directly  to  the 
point.  To  begin,  then,  with  an  inquiry  respecting  the 
Christian  knowledge,  or  the  means  of  such  knowledge. 


188  THE    BIBLE  [XO.  XII. 

which  existed  in  those  days ;  and  to  begin  this  at  the 
beginning  —  Did  they  know  anything  about  the 
Bible  ? 

I  believe  that  the  idea  which  many  persons  have  of 
ecclesiastical  history  may  be  briefly  stated  thus :  that 
the  Christian  church  was  a  small,  scattered,  and  perse- 
cuted flock,  until  the  time  of  Constantine;  that  then, 
at  once,  and  as  if  by  magic,  the  Roman  world  became 
Christian ;  that  this  Universal  Christianity,  not  being 
of  a  very  pure,  solid,  or  durable  nature,  melted  down 
into  a  filthy  mass  called  Popery,  which  held  its  place 
during  the  dark  ages,  until  the  revival  of  Pagan  litera- 
ture, and  the  consequent  march  of  intellect,  sharpened 
men's  wits  and  brought  about  the  Reformation ;  when  it 
was  discovered  that  the  pope  was  Antichrist,  and  that 
the  saints  had  been  in  the  hands  of  the  little  horn  pre- 
dicted by  the  prophet  Daniel  for  hundreds  of  years 
without  knowing  so  awful  a  fact,  or  suspecting  any- 
thing of  the  kind.  How  much  of  this  is  true,  and  how 
much  false,  this  is  not  the  place  to  inquire ;  but  I  feel 
bound  to  refer  to  this  opinion,  because  the  necessity  of 
describing  the  church  during  the  kingdom  of  the  Apo- 
calyptic Beast  in  such  a  way  as  scarcely  to  admit  of  her 
visible  existence,  even  when  it  has  not  led  popular 
writers  on  the  prophecies  to  falsify  history,  has  at  least 
prepared  their  readers  to  acquiesce  without  surprise  or 
inquiry  in  very  partial  and  delusive  statements. 

There  is  another  point  which  I  would  just  notice, 
because  it  has  given  colour  to  the  statements  of  all  the 
writers,  who,  from  whatever  motive,  have  maintained 
the  entire  ignorance  of  the  dark  ages, — I  mean  the 
complaints  made  by  contemporary  writers  of  the  ne- 
glect of  the  word  of  God,  as  well  as  of  the  other  sins 
of  those  ages.  I  have  before  alluded  to  something  like 
this  of  a  more  general  nature,  and  will  here  only  give 
a   single  specimen  :  and  that    not  so  much  to  prove  or 


NO.  XII.]  IN    THE    DARK    AGES.  189 

illustrate  what  is  plain  and  notorious,  as  because  it  is 
somewhat  curious  and  characteristic  in  itself,  and  re- 
lates to  one  of  the  most  early  versions  of  the  Scripture 
into  the  vernacular  tongue. 

William  of  Bamberg,  as  he  is  commonly  called,  who 
was  a  monk  of  Fulda,  and  afterwards  abbot  of  St. 
Peters  by  Mersburg  (about  the  year  1070),  wrote  a 
translation,  or  rather  a  double  paraphrase,  of  the  Book 
of  Canticles,  in  Latin  verse  and  Teutonic  prose,  to 
which  he  prefixed  the  following  preface  : — 

"  When  I  look  at  the  studies  of  our  ancestors,  whereby 
they  became  famous  in  respect  of  the  Sacred  Scriptures,  I  am 
forced  to  lament  the  depravity  of  this  age,  when  almost  every 
literary  pursuit  has  ceased,  and  there  is  nothing  going  on  but 
avarice,  envy,  and  strife.  For  if  there  are  any  who,  under 
scholastic  discipline,  are  instructed  in  grammatical  and  dia- 
lectical studies,  they  think  that  this  is  enough  for  them,  and 
entirely  neglect  the  Holy  Scripture ;  whereas  it  is  on  account 
of  that  only  that  it  is  lawful  for  Christians  to  read  heathen 
books,  in  order  that  they  may  perceive  the  great  difference 
between  light  and  darkness,  truth  and  error.  Others,  how- 
ever, though  they  are  mighty  in  sacred  learning,  yet,  hiding 
in  the  earth  the  talent  committed  to  them,  laugh  at  those 
who  make  mistakes  in  reading  and  chanting,  though  they 
take  no  pains  to  help  their  infirmity,  either  by  instructing 
them  or  correcting  their  books.  I  found,  in  France,  that  one 
man,  named  Lantfrid ',  (who  had  previously  been  much  dis- 
tinguished in  dialectics,  but  who  had  then  betaken  himself  to 
ecclesiastical  studies,)  had  by  his  own  acuteness  sharpened 
the  minds  of  many  in  the  Epistles  of  St.  Paul  and  the 
Psalms ;  and  as  many  of  our  countrymen  flock  to  hear  him, 
I  hope  that,  after  his  example,  they  also  will  produce  the 
fruit  of  their  industry  in  our  provinces,  to  the  benefit  of 
many.  And  as  it  often  happens  that  through  an  impulse 
given  by  generous  steeds  the  half-bred  horse  is  set  a  running, 
(although  I  am  not  ignorant  of  the  dulness  of  my  poor 
genius,  yet  hoping  to  have  a  merciful  God  for  my  helper,)    I 

1  That  is,  our  Archbishop  Lanfranc. 


190  THE    BIBLE  [NO.  XII. 

also  have  determined,  according  to  my  small  means,  to  offer 
to  the  studious  reader  some  little  help  towards  improvement. 
I  have  determined,  therefore,  if  God  permit,  to  explain  the 
Song  of  Songs,  whose  very  name  testifies  its  eminence,  both 
in  verse  and  in  the  Teutonic  language,  in  such  a  way,  that 
the  text  being  placed  in  the  middle,  these  two  versions  may 
accompany  it  down  the  sides,  and  thereby  whatsoever  is 
sought  may  be  more  easily  found.  I  have  added  nothing  of 
my  own,  but  have  compressed  all  I  could  find  in  the  various 
expositions  of  the  fathers  ;  and,  both  in  the  verses  and  in  the 
Teutonic  translation,  I  have  taken  more  pains  about  the  sense 
than  the  words.  Sometimes  I  repeat  the  same  verses  ;  for 
those  things  which  the  Holy  Spirit  has  repeated  in  the  same 
words,  it  does  not  appear  improper  for  me  to  repeat  in  the 
same  verses.  I  have  thought  it  good  to  distribute  the  parts 
to  the  Bridegroom  and  the  Bride,  both  in  the  translation  and 
in  the  verses,  as  well  as  the  text,  not  only  that  they  may 
have  the  greater  appearance  of  authority,  but  that  the  reader 
may  be  gratified  by  the  persons  speaking  alternately.  I  do 
not  know  whether  I  am  the  dupe  of  a  pleasing  delusion  ;  but 
if  not,  surely  he  who  rained  on  Solomon  hath  also  conde- 
scended to  shed  some  few  drops  on  me.  Sometimes  on 
reading  what  I  have  written  I  am  as  much  delighted  as  if  it 
was  the  work  of  an  approved  author.  I  offer  this  little  work, 
as  long  as  I  live,  to  the  correction  of  those  who  are  more 
learned  ;  if  I  have  done  wrong  in  anything,  I  shall  not  be 
ashamed  to  receive  their  admonitions  ;  and  if  there  is  any- 
thing which  they  like,  I  shall  not  be  slow  to  furnish  more  V 

To  come,  however,  to  the  question, — did  people  in 
the  dark  ages  know  anything  of  the  Bible  ?  Certainly 
it  was  not  as  commonly  known  and  as  generally  in  the 
hands  of  men  as  it  is  now,  and  has  been  almost  ever 


2  M.  Sf  D.  I.  501.  To  this  poor  monk's  own  account  of  his  perform- 
ance, it  is  only  justice  to  add  the  testimony  of  a  learned  Protestant: — 
"  Paraphrasin  Willerami  mire  commendat  Junius,  autorem  vocat  prae- 
stantis  ingenii  virum,  et  rerum  theologicarum  consultissimum,  qui  in  hac 
provincia  administranda,  et  vero  sensu  connubialis  carminis  eruendo  tanta 
dexteritate  est  et  fide  versatus,  ut  paucos  habuerit  ex  antiquis  illis,  quos  se 
vidisse  et  legisse  notat,  pares ;  priorem  fere  neminem." — Cave,  Hist.  Lit. 
torn.  ii.  p.  148. 


NO.  XII.]  IN    THE    DARK    AGES.  191 

since  the  invention  of  printing — the  reader  must  not 
suspect  me  of  wishing  to  maintain  any  such  absurd 
opinion;  but  I  do  think  that  there  is  sufficient  evi- 
dence— (I.)  that  during  that  period  the  scriptures  were 
more  accessible  to  those  who  could  use  them;  (II.) 
were  in  fact  more  used — and  (III.)  by  a  greater  num- 
ber of  persons — than  some  modern  writers  would  lead 
us  to  suppose. 

The  worst  of  it  is,  that  the  proof  must  not  only  be 
defective — for  on  what  subject  connected  with  that 
period  can  it  be  otherwise  ? — but  that,  if  by  any  means 
fully  produced,  it  must  be  so  voluminous  as  to  be  quite 
inadmissible  in  a  work  like  the  present.  It  is  not  by 
generalizing  on  particular  cases,  as  has  been  the  fault 
of  some  writers  whose  statements  I  have  noticed,  but 
by  accumulating  a  great  number  of  facts — facts,  too, 
of  very  different  descriptions,  and  forming  totally  dis- 
tinct parts  of  the  proof — that  anything  like  a  correct 
idea  can  be  formed.  It  is  absurd  for  Robertson  to  say 
that  monasteries  of  considerable  note  had  only  one 
missal,  because  the  Abbot  Bonus  found  only  one  in  the 
ruined  chapel  at  Pisa.  It  is  as  absurd  in  Warton  to 
tell  us  that  "  at  the  beginning  of  the  tenth  century 
books  were  so  scarce  in  Spain  that  one  and  the  same 
copy  of  the  Bible,  St.  Jerome's  Epistles,  and  some 
volumes  of  ecclesiastical  offices  and  martyrologies,  often 
served  for  different  monasteries 3,"  because  old  Genna- 
dius,  Bishop  of  Astorga,  thought  fit,  after  dividing 
many  other  books  among  four  monasteries  or  orato- 
ries, which  he  had  founded  in  his  diocese,  to  give 
them  his  Bible  and  some  other  books  as  common  pro- 
perty4.   I  think  it  would  be  quite  as  fair  and  as  foolish 


3  Diss.  ii. 

4  Warton  refers  to  Fleury,  L.  LIV.  c.  liv.  but  adds,  "  See  other  in- 
stances in  Hist.  Lit.  Fr.  par  del  Benedict,  vii.  3."     To  this  book  I  have 


192  THE    BIBLE  [NO.  XIT. 

for  me  to  say,  "  In  the  ninth  century  the  bishops  used 
to  write  Bibles  for  their  churches  with  their  own 
hands,"  because  I  find  that  Wicbert,  who  became 
bishop  of  Wildesheim  in  the  year  880,  did  so.  Still 
such  notices  are  not  to  be  passed  over ;  and  I  will  offer 
a  few,  to  which  I  have  no  doubt  that  many  more  might 


not  access  at  present;  but  I  shall  be  much  surprised  to  find  that  it  con- 
tains other  instances  sufficient  to  support  this  assertion. 

Since  I  wrote  this  note  I  have  received  a  letter  from  a  friend  whom  I 
requested  to  look  out  the  reference,  in  which  he  says,  "  It  is  curious  that 
you  should  be  again  sent  back  to  your  old  friend,  the  Homilies  of  Haimo ; 
the  whole  passage  is  not  long,  and  I  shall,  therefore,  transcribe  it.  Hist. 
Lit.  torn.  vii.  p.  3,  n.  3. 

"  *  III.  A  ce  defaut  presque  generale  d'inclination  pour  les  lettres,  qui 
avoit  sa  source  dans  le  genie  de  la  nation,  se  reunirent  plusieurs  autres 
causes,  qui  concoururent  a  entretenir  l'ignorance.  Le  X  siecle  n'avoit  pas 
ete  sufhsant  pour  reparer  les  pertes  de  livres  qu'avoit  souffert  la  France, 
dans  les  courses  precedentes,  les  pillages,  les  incendies,  des  Sarasins,  des 
Normans,  des  Hongrois,  des  Bulgares.  Quoiqu'on  eut  travaille  a  renou- 
veller  ces  livres,  comme  nous  Vavons  montre,  ils  e'toient  encore  fort  rares,  ce 
qui  rendoit  les  etudes  tres-difticiles.  D'ailleurs  n'y  ai'ant  presque  que  des 
moines  qui  s'occupoient  a  les  copier,  ils  commencerent  par  ceux  qu'ils 
croioient  plus  necessaires :  la  Bible  et  les  livres  liturgiques,  les  ecrits  des 
Peres,  les  recueils  des  Canons.  Ainsi  il  se  passa  du  temps,  avant  qu'ils 
pussent  transcrire  les  Historiens,  les  Poetes,  les  Orateurs.  Et  le  defaut  de 
ces  ouvrages  contribua  beaucoup  aux  mauvaises  Etudes  et  a  la  barbarie 
qui  y  regnoit.  On  avoit  cependant  de  cette  sorte  d'auteurs  :  mais  ils 
n'etoient  pas  communes. — {Mab.  an.  1.  61,  n.  6.)  Un  trait  que  l'histoire 
a  conserve  touchant  le  prix  excessif  des  livres  en  ce  temps-la  nous  doit 
faire  juger  de  leur  rarete.  Encore  s'agit-il  d'un  auteur  ecclesiastique,  le 
recueil  des  Homelies  d'Haimon  d'Halberstat.  Grecie  Comtesse  d'Anjou,' 
&c.  &c. 

M  The  rest  of  the  paragraph  I  think  I  sent  you  before ;  or,  at  least,  you 
know  its  contents.  [The  reader  may  find  it  in  No.  V.  p.  62.]  And  it 
appears  that  there  is  nothing  whatever  about  one  book  serving  many 
monasteries ;  nay,  the  inference  from  the  whole  passage  is  the  very  reverse 
of  the  statement  for  which  it  is  quoted  by  Warton ;  and  it  relates,  not  to 
Spain,  but  to  France.  I  therefore  looked  in  the  index  of  the  volume,  in 
hope  that  the  reference  might  possibly  be  misprinted;  but  I  find  nothing 
at  all  like  the  statement  in  Warton's  text." 

I  do  not  wish  to  lengthen  this  note  by  any  remarks  on  this  passage, 
which  I  adduce  as  being  the  authority  on  which  Warton  relied ;  but  I 
have  marked  one  or  two  words  by  italics,  which  shew  what  an  important 
bearing  it  has  on  the  subject  in  general,  and  particularly  on  that  part  with 
which  we  are  at  present  engaged. 


NO.  XII.]  IN    THE    DARK    AGES.  193 

be  added  if  I  had  access  to  more  books.  Though  I 
put  them  first,  I  beg  the  reader  not  to  suppose  that  I 
consider  them  as  the  most  important  part  of  the  proof, 
but  only  offer  them  as  notices  not  entirely  uninteresting 
in  themselves,  and  as  forming  a  part,  though  a  small 
one,  of  the  proof  required. 

1.  In  the  first  place,  then,  whoever  reads  the  writers 
— perhaps  I  should  say  principally  the  historians — of 
those  ages  will  find  them  not  unfrequently  speaking  of 
the  Bible.  I  do  not  mean  referring  to  it  as  an  autho- 
rity, or  quoting  its  contents,  or,  if  I  may  so  express 
myself,  speaking  of  it  in  the  abstract  (for  this  is  quite 
another  part  of  the  subject),  but  incidentally  mention- 
ing the  existence  of  Bibles  at  various  times,  and  in 
places  where  they  were  accessible  to  many  readers.  I 
need  not  repeat  that  the  proof  must  be  defective,  not 
only  because  we  may  reasonably  suppose  that  those 
copies  of  the  Bible  which  happen  to  be  thus  incident- 
ally mentioned,  in  the  comparatively  few  documents 
which  have  come  down  to  us,  were  but  a  very  small 
part  of  those  which  were  in  existence,  but  because  the 
instances  which  I  can  give  are  only  such  as  I  happen 
to  have  met  with  in  circumstances  not  very  favourable 
to  research  on  such  subjects. 

When  Aldhelm,  who  became  bishop  of  Schireburn 
in  the  year  705,  went  to  Canterbury  to  be  consecrated 
by  his  old  friend  and  companion  Berth  wold  (pariter 
Uteris  studuerant,  pariterque  viam  religionis  triverant,) 
the  archbishop  kept  him  there  many  days,  taking  coun- 
se]  with  him  about  the  affairs  of  his  diocese.  Hearing 
of  the  arrival  of  ships  at  Dover,  during  this  time,  lie 
went  there  to  inspect  their  unloading,  and  to  s£e  if 
they  had  brought  anything  in  his  way,  (si  quid  forte 
commodum  ecclesiastico  usui  attulissent  nauta?  qui  e 
Gallico  sinu  in  Angliam  provecti  librorum  copiam 
apporta88ent.)      Among  main  other  books  ho  saw  one 

o 


194  THE    BIBLE  [NO.  XII. 

containing  the  whole  of  the  Old  and  New  Testament, 
which — to  omit  the  incidents  for  the  sake  of  which  the 
fact  is  recorded,  but  which  are  not  to  our  purpose — he 
at  length  bought;  and  William  of  Malmesbury,  who 
wrote  his  life  in  the  twelfth  century,  tells  us  that  it 
was  still  preserved  at  that  place 5. 

In  the  year  780,  King  Offa  gave  to  the  church  at 
Worcester,  among  other  things,  a  great  Bible — mag- 
nam  Bibliam 6. 

It  was  probably  soon  after — for  he  became  bishop  of 
Orleans  about  or  before  the  year  794 — that  Theodulfus 
made  his  great  Bible,  which  is  still  in  existence;  at 
least  it  was  so  in  the  days  of  Father  Sirmond,  in  whose 
works  the  reader  may  find  the  verses  which  the  bishop 
prefixed  to  it,  and  the  preface,  which  was  written  in 
gold  7. 

In  the  list  of  books  given  to  his  monastery  by 
Ansegisus,  who  became  abbot  of  Fontanelle  in  the 
year  823,  we  find  "  Bibliothecam  optimam  continens 
vetus  et  novum  Testamentum,  cum  prsefationibus  ac 
initiis  librorum  aureis  Uteris  decoratis 8 ;"  and  among 
those  which  he  gave  to  the  monastery  of  St.  Flavian, 
"  Pandecten  a  B.  Hierohymo  ex  hebraeo  vel  grseco 
eloquio  translatum 9." 


5  Ang.  Sac.  ii.  21.  6  Ibid.  i.  470. 

7  Sirm.  Op.  torn.  ii.  p.  763.         8  Chron.  Fontan.  ap.  Dach.  Sp.  ii.  280. 
9  Ibid.  281.     I  do  not  know  that  this  name  was  ever  general,  or  that  it 
was  used  by  any  writer  before  Alcwin.     In  the  verses  which  he  wrote  in 
the  copy  which  he  corrected  by  order  of  Charlemagne  (and  which  the 
reader  may  find  in  Baronius,  an.  778.  No.  xxiii.),  he  says : — 
"  Nomine  Pandecten  proprio  vocitare  memento 
Hoc  corpus  sacrum,  lector,  in  ore  tuo; 
Quod  nunc  a  multis  constat  Bibliotheca  dicta 
Nomine  non  proprio,  ut  lingua  Pelasga  docet." 
As  to  the  name  Bibliotheca,  I  have  already  had  occasion  to  mention 
that  it  was  the  common  name  for  a  Bible.     It  seems  to  have  arisen  (I 
know  not  how  properly)  from  the  words  of  Jerome,  who,  offering  to  lend 
books,  says  to  Florentius,  "  et  quoniam  largiente  Domino,  multis  sacra? 
bibliotheca}  codicibus  abundamus"  &c. — Ep.  VI.  ad  Flor.  torn.  i.  p.  19.  I. 


NO.  XII.]  IN    THE    DARK    AGES.  195 

In  a  return  of  their  property  which  the  monks  of 
St.  Riquier  at  Centule  made,  by  order  of  Lewis  the 
Debonnaire,  in  the  year  831,  we  find,  among  a  con- 
siderable quantity  of  books,  "  Bibliotheca  integra  ubi 
continentur  libri  lxxii.  in  uno  volumine;"  and  also, 
"Bibliotheca  dispersa  in  voluminibus  14  '." 

In  the  year  843  the  Normans  came  up  the  Loire, 
and  laid  waste  Nantes,  and  the  surrounding  country. 
After  killing  the  bishop  in  his  cathedral,  with  many 
of  the  clergy,  monks,  and  laity  who  had  sought  refuge 
there,  they  loaded  their  vessels  with  spoil  and  captives, 
and  proceeded  along  the  Loire  to  an  island,  where  they 
began  to  divide  their  prey.  In  doing  this,  they  quar- 
relled and  fought,  and  many  of  them  were  killed.  "  The 
captives,  however,"  says  the  historian,  "  seeing  the 
storm,  all  fled  into  the  more  inaccessible  parts  of  the 
island  ;  but  among  them  there  was  one  who  ventured 
on  a  very  bold  stroke  (magnse  invasionis  audax).  He 
took  on  his  back  the  great  Bible,  which  is  preserved 
to  this  day  [probably  in  or  before  the  twelfth  century] 
in  the  great  church  of  Nantes,  and  ran  off  to  hide  him- 
self, with  the  rest,  in  the  mines."  The  Normans  having 
fought  till  they  were  tired,  those  who  survived  were 
seized  with  a  panic;  in  consequence  of  which  they 
gathered  up  the  spoil,  and  set  sail,  without  troubling 
themselves  about  the  captives,  who  at  length  got  safe 
back  to  Nantes,  having  lost  much  in  silver,  and  gold, 
and  books,  and  saving  only  their  Bible,  "solummodo 
Bibliothecam  afferentes 2." 

It  is  somewhat  curious  that,  among  the  little  scraps 
of  history  which  have  come  down  to  us,  we  find  a 
notice  of  another  Bible  in  the  same  year,  and  very 
near  the  same  place.     In  a  charter  cited  by  Du  Cange, 


1  Chron.  Centul.  ap.  Dach.  Sp.  ii.  311. 

2  Frag.  Hist.  Armor,  ap.  Mart.  iii.  830. 

o2 


190  THE    BIBLE  [NO.  XII. 

from  the  tabulary  of  the  monastery  of  St.  Maur,  on  the 
Loire,  we  find — "  Donum  autem  confirmat  Bibliotheca 
Veteris  et  Novi  Testamenti 3 ; "  the  Bible  having  been 
used,  I  presume,  in  the  conveyance  of  some  property  in 
the  way  which  I  have  described  in  No.  V.  p.  79.  In- 
deed, it  seems  as  if  they  were  in  the  habit  of  so  using 
their  Bible  at  that  monastery ;  for  in  another  charter, 
bearing  date  847,  and  conveying  property  to  it,  we 
find — "  Donum  autem  hujus  rei  est  haec  Bibliotheca 
Veteris  ac  Novi  Testamenti  V 

In  the  short  interval  between  the  dates  of  these  two 
charters — that  is,  in  the  year  845 — Hamburg  was 
burned,  and  the  Bible  which  Lewis  the  Debonnaire 
had  given  to  Anscharius  was,  with  many  other  books, 
destroyed  by  fire — "  Bibliotheca,  quam  serenissimus  jam 
memoratus  Imperator  eidem  patri  nostro  contulerat, 
optime  conscripta,  cum  plurimis  aliis  libris  igni  dis- 
periit 5." 

Everhard,  Count  of  Friuli,  by  his  will,  dated  a.d.  867, 
divided  his  books  among  his  children,  leaving  to  his 
eldest  son  "  Bibliothecam  nostram6."  This  Count, 
before  the  time  just  specified,  had  founded  a  monastery 
at  Cisoing  (a  little  to  the  south  between  Lille  and 
Tournay)  and  it  appears  that  a  monk  named  Wulgarius, 
who  states  that  he  had  laboured  in  the  monastery  ever 
since  its  foundation,  presented  to  it  several  books, 
among  which  we  find  "  Bibliothecam  1 7." 

Wicbert,  who  became  bishop  of  Hildesheim  in  the 
year  880,  I  have  already  mentioned  as  writing  a  Bible 
with  his  own  hand.  The  chronicler  who  records  the 
fact,  and  who  probably  wrote  in  the  twelfth  century, 


3  Du  Cange  in  v.  Bibliotheca. 

4  Given  by  Baluze  Capit.  Reg.  Franc,  torn.  ii.  p.  1456. 

r'  Vita  S.  Anscharii  int.  add.  ad  Lambecii  Orig.  Hamburg,  c.  xiv.  p.  59. 

c>  Dach.  Sp.  ii.  877.  7  Ibid.  p.  879. 


NO.  XII.]  IN    THE    DARK    AGES.  197 

says,  "  Bibliothecam  quae  adhuc  in  monasterio  servatur, 
propria  manu  elaboravit 8." 

Gennadius,  who  bequeathed  his  Bible,  as  part  of  a 
sort  of  circulating  library,  to  his  four  monasteries  or 
oratories,  I  have  also  already  mentioned.  He  describes 
it  as  "  Bibliothecam  totam  9." 

Olbert,  who  was  abbot  of  Gembloux  until  the  year 
1048,  wrote  out  a  volume  containing  the  whole  of 
the  Old  and  New  Testament ' ;  and   the   unfortunate 


8  Chron.  Ep.  Hildesh.  ap.  Leib.  Sc.  Brun.  I.  743. 

9  Mab.  A.  S.  vii.  p.  36. 

1  This  is  the  person  who,  under  the  name  of  Albert,  comes  in  for  a 
sneer  from  Warton  on  the  page  just  referred  to  of  his  second  Disserta- 
tion ;  "Albert,  Abbot  of  Gemblours,  who,  with  incredible  labour  and  im- 
mense expense,  had  collected  an  hundred  volumes  on  theological,    and 
fifty  on  profane  subjects,  imagined  he  had  formed  a  splendid  library." 
The   "incredible  labour  and   immense  expense,"  and  the  Abbot's   own 
imagination   of  the  splendour  of  his  library,  are,  I  believe,  as   purely 
poetical  as   anything   that   Warton   ever   wrote.     Fleury,    to    whom  he 
refers,    says   only,   "  Etant  Abbe,  il   amassa  a  Gembloux  plus   de   cent 
volumes   d'auteurs    ecclesiastiques,    et    cinquante    d'auteurs     profanes, 
ce   qui   passoit   pour   une    grande    bibliotheque." — Liv.   LVIII.    c.   lii. 
torn.  XII.  p.  424.     The  fact,  however,  is,  that  he  was  a  monk  of  Lobbes, 
who  was  sent  to  reform  and  restore  the  monastery  of  Gembloux,  which 
was  in  a  state  of  great  poverty  and  disorder — exterius  ingrueret  gravis  rei 
familiaris  tenuitas,  interius  autem  horreret  grandis  irreligiositas — and  he 
did,  according  to  the  account  of  his  biographer,  in  a  marvellously  short 
time,  restore  discipline,  build  a  church,  and  provide  many  things  needful 
for  the  monastery,  and  among  others  the  150  volumes  of  books.     As  to 
the  "  incredible  labour,"  we  are  expressly  told  that  he  set  his  monks  to 
write,  to  keep  them  from  being  idle;  and  as  to  the  "  immense  expense," 
his  biographer's  remark  is,  that  it  is  wonderful  how  one  man,  with  such 
slender  means,  could  do  so  much  as  he  did.     "  Non  passus  enim  ut  per 
otium  mens  aut  manus  eorum  torpesceret,  utiliter  profectui  eorum  pro- 
videt,  dum    eos  per  scribendi  laborem  exercet,  et  frequenti  scripturarum 
meditatione  animos  eorum  ad  meliora  promovet.     Appellens  ergo  animum 
ad  construendum  pro  posse  suo  bibliothecam,  quasi  quidam  Philadelphus, 
plenariam  vetus  et  novum  Testamentum  continentem   in   uno  volumine 
transcripsit  historiam  ;  et  divinae  quidem  scripturae  plusquam  centum  con- 
gessit  volumina,  saecularis  vero  disciplinae  libros  quinquaginta.    Mirandum 
sane  hominem  unum  in  tanta  tenuitate  rerum,  tanta  potuisse  comparare, 
nisi  occurreret  animo,  timentibus  Deum  nihil  deesse." — Mab.  A.  S.  torn, 
viii.  p.  531.     The  reader  will  here  observe  that  use  of  the  phrase  "  divina 
scnptura,"  which  I  have  before  noticed,  and  of  which  it  would  be  easy  to 


198  THE    BIBLE  [NO.  XII. 

Bonus,  who  was  abbot  at  Pisa  at  exactly  the  same 
time,  gave  (as  we  have  already  seen)  ten  pounds  for 
what  he  describes  as  a  "  liber  Bibliothece 2." 

Among  the  books  which  Thierry,  who  became  the 
first  abbot  of  the  restored  monastery  of  St.  Evroul,  or 
Ebrulf,  at  Ouche,  in  the  diocese  of  Lisieux,  in  the  year 
1050,  caused  to  be  written  for  that  monastery,  we  find, 
"  omnes  libros  veteris  et  novi  Testamenti 3." 

Stephen,  who  became  abbot  of  Beze,  in  the  year 
1088,  gave  the  monastery  a  "  Bibliotheca,  tarn  veteris 
quam  novi  Testamenti 4." 

Wicbert's  Bible,  twice  mentioned  already,  did  not 
prevent  Bruno,  who  succeeded  him  in  the  see  of  Hil- 
desheim  in  the  year  1153,  from  presenting  to  the 
library  a  glossed  Bible — "  contulit  ad  ipsum  armarium 
totum  Testamentum  novum  et  vetus,  utrumque  glossa- 
tum 5 " — and  this  was  followed  by  another  glossed  Bible, 
very  carefully  elaborated,  and  presented  by  Berno,  who 
succeeded  to  the  see  in  the  year  1190 — "  contulit  etiam 
ecclesise  veteris  ac  novi  Testamenti  libros  glossatos  et 
magno  scholastics  diligentise  studio  elaborates 6." 

give  instances;  one  of  the  most  curious  is  perhaps  that  in  the  Burton 
Annals,  (Gale,  iii.  264.)  King  John  is  represented  as  saying  to  the  Pope's 
Nuncio,  "  unde  videre  potestis  per  sacras  scripturas  quod  beatus  et  glo- 
riosus  rex  sanctus  Edwardus  contulit  in  tempore  suo  Sancto  Wulstano 
episcopatum  Wigorniae,"  &c. 

2  When  I  mentioned  the  Abbot's  Bible  before  (No.  IV.  p.  47),  I  gave  a 
specimen  of  his  latinity;  and  this  morsel  may  give  me  an  opportunity  of 
suggesting  to  the  reader  that  we  are  not,  in  all  cases,  to  take  it  for  granted 
that  there  was  nobody  better  able  to  understand,  or  to  describe  a  book, 
than  the  person  who  happens  to  have  incidentally  noticed  its  existence,  or 
to  have  made  an  inventory  of  various  things,  and  of  books  among  the  rest. 
For  instance,  the  list  of  books  belonging  to  the  church  of  St.  James  and 
St.  Christopher,  at  Stedeburg,  which  Leibnitz  gives  us,  (I.  870,)  begins 
with  "  Liber  Genesis  Biblia,"  and  contains  "  Liber  in  Principio  et  evan- 
geliorum  secundum  Marcum."  I  do  not  mention  this  Bible  in  the  text, 
because  I  do  not  know  the  date  of  this  list.  The  more  modern  it  is,  the 
more  it  is  to  the  purpose  of  this  note. 

3  Mab.  A.  S.  ix.  13G.  4  Chron.  Bes.  ap.  Dach.  Sp.  ii.  435. 
6  Chron.  Hildesh.  ap.  Leib.  Sc.»Br.  i.  747.  6  Ibid.  749. 


NO.  XII.]  IN    THE    DARK    AGES.  199 

To  these  instances  I  doubt  not  that  a  little  trouble 
would  add  many  more;  but  I  am  afraid  that  the 
reader  has  already  found  them  tedious,  and  I  will  here 
only  add  some  notice  of  a  correspondence  between 
Geoffry,  sub-prior  of  St.  Barbara,  in  Normandy,  and 
John,  the  abbot,  and  Peter,  one  of  the  monks,  of  Bau- 
gercy,  in  the  diocese  of  Tours,  some  time  between  the 
dates  just  specified,  and  probably  about  the  year  1170. 
The  sub-prior  begins  one  of  his  letters  thus  : — 

"  To  his  Venerable  Abbot  John,  Geoffry,  the  servant  of 
your  holiness,  wishes  that  which  is  the  true  health.  I  re- 
ceived the  letters  of  your  affection,  which  seemed  to  my 
heart  to  be  sweetened  with  the  honey  of  love.  I  read  them 
eagerly ;  I  now  read  them  again  gladly ;  and,  often  read  over, 
they  still  please.  Of  this  only  I  complain,  that  you  send 
so  few  and  such  short  letters  to  one  who  loves  you,  and 
whom  you  love,  so  much.  You  seldom  converse  with  me, 
and  I  should  like  the  conversation  to  be  longer.  I  should 
like  to  hear  something  from  you  that  might  instruct  us  as  to 
our  life  and  conversation,  relieve  the  weariness  of  our  pil- 
grimage, and  inflame  us  with  the  love  of  our  heavenly  country. 
I  must  also  tell  you  that  the  excellent  Bible  (Bibliothecam 
optimam),  of  which  I  wrote  to  you  long  ago,  you  may  still 
find  at  Caen,  if  you  wish  it." 

The  Abbot  in  his  reply  (which  I  presume  was  not  a 
speedy  one,  for  he  begins  it  with  reproaching  the  sub- 
prior  that  he  had  been  so  long  silent,)  takes  no  notice 
of  the  Bible,  unless  it  be  by  saying  at  the  close  of  his 
letter,  "  Peter  Mano-ot  salutes  vou ;  to  whom  I  wish 
that  you  would  write,  and  comfort  him  in  the  Lord, 
and  among  other  things  admonish  him  about  buying  a 
Bible."  It  seems  to  have  been  the  custom  of  these 
two  friends  to  add  one,  two,  or  three  couplets  to  their 
letters,  in  the  way  of  marginal  notes,  referring  to  the 
subjects  on  which  they  were  writing.  The  second  of 
the  two  couplets  on  this  occasion  is  as  follows: — 

"  Ardenti  studio  sacra  perlege  dogmata,  si  vis 
Dulcis  aqua?  saliente  sitim  restringere  rivo." 


200  THE    BIBLE  [NO.  XII. 

This  letter  produced  one  from  Geoffry  to  Peter 
Mangot,  who  seems  to  have  been  a  monk  of  Baugercy, 
who  had  undertaken  and  obtained  permission  to  build 
a  monastery. 

"  To  his  beloved  and  friend  Peter  Mangot,  brother  Geoffry 
wishes  health  and  perseverance  in  the  work  begun. 

"  God  has  fulfilled  your  desire, — you  have  what  you  so 
ardently  sought.  You  have  got  what  you  asked  from  me, 
from  the  King  through  me,  and  from  the  chapter  of  Citeaux 
through  the  King's  letters,  and  the  help  of  others.  These 
things,  indeed,  seemed  very  difficult  at  first,  and,  from  the 
circumstances  of  the  case,  we  were  almost  in  despair ;  but 
God  himself  looked  upon  us  with  an  eye  of  mercy,  and  with 
a  strong  hand  made  all  things  plain  before  our  face.  Go  on, 
then,  with  increasing  devotion  in  a  work  that  was  first  con- 
ceived with  a  devout  intention,  and  devoutly  begun ;  and 
carefully  provide  all  that  is  necessary  for  it.  Build  up  a 
temple  to  the  Lord  of  living  and  elect  stones,  who  may 
receive  you  into  eternal  habitations.  I  give  thanks  to  the 
grace  of  God  which  worketh  in  you ;  I  give  thanks  also  to 
you,  who  are  working  together  with  that  grace ;  for  the  grace 
of  God,  which  without  you,  wrought  in  you  a  good  will,  now 
worketh  by  you." 

He  afterwards  adds : — 

"  A  monastery  (claustrum)  without  a  library  (sine  armario) 
is  like  a  castle  (castrum)  without  an  armory  (sine  armamen- 
tario).  Our  library  is  our  armory.  Thence  it  is  that  we 
bring  forth  the  sentences  of  the  divine  law,  like  sharp  arrows, 
to  attack  the  enemy.  Thence  we  take  the  armour  of  righte- 
ousness, the  helmet  of  salvation,  the  shield  of  faith,  and  the 
sword  of  the  Spirit  which  is  the  word  of  God.  See  to  it, 
therefore,  that  in  your  armory  of  defence  that  which  is  the 
great  defence  of  all  the  other  defences  is  not  wanting.  That 
defence  is  the  Holy  Bible,  wherein  is  contained  the  right  rule 
of  life  and  manners.  There  each  sex  and  every  age  finds 
what  is  profitable.  There  spiritual  infancy  finds  that  where- 
by it  may  grow,  youth  that  which  may  strengthen  it,  age 
that  which  may  support  it, — a  blessed  hand  which  ministers 
to  all,  whereby  all  may  be  saved.  If  therefore  you  have 
taken  care  to  provide  the  arms  for  this  warfare,  you  will  have 


NO.  XII.]  IN    THE    DARK    AGES.  201 

nothing  to  do  but  to  say  to  him,  4  Take  thine  arms  and  thy 
shield,  and  arise  to  my  help/  Farewell !  and  take  care  that 
the  Bible,  which  no  monastery  should  be  without,  is  bought.1' 

To  this  letter  three  couplets  are  added,  of  which  the 
third  is  as  follows : — 

"  Quamvis  multorum  multi  placeant  tibi  libri 
Hanc  habeas,  sapias,  sufficit  ipsa  tibi "." 

It  does  not  appear  (and  as  our  inquiry  relates  in  a 
great  degree  to  the  possibility  of  obtaining  such  things 
in  those  days,  it  is  worth  while  to  notice  the  circum- 
stance,) that  this  recommendation  to  procure  a  Bible 
had  anything  to  do  with  the  Bibliotheca  optima  at  Caen ; 
for,  in  a  subsequent  letter,  the  Abbot  John  requests 
his  friend  Geoffi-y  to  secure  it  for  him  s. 

All  the  instances  which  I  have  given  refer  to  the 
whole  Bible,  or,  as  it  is  expressed  in  some  of  them,  the 
Bibliotheca  Integra,  or  Bibliotheca  tota ;  but  I  must  beg 
the  reader's  attention  to  one  circumstance,  which  is 
important,  if  we  would  understand  matters  aright. 
Undoubtedly  Bibles  were  scarce  in  those  days ;  but  we 
are  not  hastily  to  conclude  that  wherever  there  existed 
no  single  book  called  a  Bible,   the  contents  of  the 


7  The  other  four  lines  have  nothing  to  do  with  our  immediate  subject, 
but  I  hope  the  reader  will  forgive  my  quoting  them,  as  belonging  to  a 
writer  of  the  dark  ages.  From  his  correspondence,  in  which  the  reader 
who  is  not  fastidious  as  to  style  (or,  rather,  as  to  latinity,)  may  find  much 
that  is  interesting,  I  hope  at  some  future  time  to  give  farther  extracts. 
After 

"  Petrus  vocaris  firmus  esto," 

we  find  these  four  lines,  or,  rather,  two  couplets,  which  seem  to  have  re- 
ference to  different  parts  of  his  letter,  and  to  have  been  originally  uncon- 
nected with  each  other,  as  also  with  the  third  couplet  quoted  above : — 
"  In  Christo  petra  fidei  fundamine  jacto 

Spe  paries  surgit,  culmina  complet  amor. 

Vivit  agendo  fides ;  ubi  non  est  actus  amoris, 

Gignit  abortivam  spem  moribunda  fides." 

"  Mart.  i.  502.  509.  514. 


202  THE    BIBLE  [NO.  XII. 

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


NO.  XIII.]  IX    THE    DARK    AGES.  203 

part  of  the  Scriptures,  and  therefore  did  not  require  a 
transcript  of  the  whole,  or,  if  it  was  their  first  attempt 
to  possess  any  portion,  there  were  but  few  whose  means 
or  patience  would  render  it  likely  that  they  should 
think  of  acquiring  the  whole  at  once.  It  is  obvious, 
too,  that  when  copies  of  parts  had  been  multiplied,  that 
very  circumstance  would  lead  to  the  transcription  of 
other  parts,  which  would  comparatively  seldom  be 
formed  into  one  volume.  We  may  well  imagine  that 
a  scribe  would  prefer  undertaking  to  write  a  Penta- 
teuch, or  adding  the  two  next  books  a  Heptateuch,  or 
with  one  more  an  Octateuch,  or  a  Psalter,  or  a  Textus 
containing  one  or  more  of  the  Gospels,  or  a  book  of 
Proverbs,  or  a  set  of  the  canonical  Epistles,  or  some 
one  or  other  of  the  portions  into  which  the  Bible  was 
at  that  time  very  commonly  divided.  Of  these  I  hope 
to  speak  hereafter,  and  only  mention  their  existence 
now  as  one  reason  why  we  are  not  to  take  it  for 
granted,  that  all  persons  who  did  not  possess  what  we 
call  "a  Bible"  must  have  been  entirely  destitute  and 
ignorant  of  the  Holy  Scriptures. 


No.  XIII. 


"  Sunk  in  the  lowest  state  of  earthly  depression,  making  their  pilgrim- 
age in  sackcloth  and  ashes,  pressed  by  every  art  and  engine  of  human 
hostility,  by  the  blind  hatred  of  the  half-barbarian  kings  of  feudal  Europe, 
by  the  fanatical  furies  of  their  ignorant  people,  and,  above  all,  by  the 
great  spiritual  domination,  containing  in  itself  a  mass  of  solid  and  despotic 
strength  unequalled  in  the  annals  of  power,  vivified  and  envenomed  by  a 
reckless  antipathy  unknown  in  the  annals  of  the  passions, — what  had  they 
[the  Scriptures]  to  do  but  perish  ? " 

Hitherto  I  have  spoken  only  of  whole  Bibles;  and  I 
have  observed,  that  it  would  be  unreasonable  to  expect 
that   we   should  find    notice  of  any  very  considerable 


204  COPIES    OF    THE    GOSPELS  [NO.  XIII. 

number  during  the  Dark  Ages ;  not  only  because  all 
books  were  scarce — not  only  because  such  notices,  and 
the  finding  of  them,  are  merely  accidental — but  because 
the  Bible  was  comparatively  seldom  formed  into  one 
volume,  and  more  commonly  existed  in  its  different 
parts.  To  mention  all  the  notices  which  occur  of 
these  parts,  and  all  the  proofs  which  exist,  that  they 
must  have  been  numerous,  would  be  both  tedious  and 
useless ;  but  it  will  tend  to  illustrate,  not  only  the 
immediate  question  before  us,  but  our  general  subject, 
if  I  say  a  few  words  of  copies  of  the  Gospels  ;  at  least, 
of  some  which  may  be  worthy  of  notice,  from  their 
costly  decorations,  or  from  the  persons  by  whom  they 
were  possessed,  or  to  or  by  whom  they  were  pre- 
sented. 

I  have  already  said  something  on  the  subject  of 
costly  books ;  and  I  only  refer  to  it  here  in  order  to 
correct  a  mistake.  I  stated  the  case  of  an  "  Elector  of 
Bavaria,  who  gave  a  town  for  a  single  manuscript ] ;" 
whereas  I  should  have  said,  that  he  offered  a  town  for 
it ;  but  that  the  monks,  wisely  considering  that  he 
could,  and  suspecting  that  he  would,  retake  the  town 
whenever  he  pleased,  declined  the  exchange.  The 
MS.  remained  in  their  library  in  the  beginning  of  the 
eighteenth  century  ;  and  is,  for  anything  that  I  know, 
still  there2. 


1  No.  V.  p.  67. 

3  I  made  the  statement  on  the  authority  (as  I  thought)  of  Baring,  who 
mentions  the  circumstance  in  his  Clavis  Diplomatica,  2nd  edit.  p.  5 ;  and 
the  word  "  obtulit "  conveyed  to  my  mind,  from  its  constant  use  in  char- 
ters, diplomas,  and  all  the  documents  to  which  his  work  has  reference,  no 
other  idea  than  that  of  giving— that  is,  offering  what  was  not  rejected. 
Whether  he  meant  this,  I  do  not  know.  He  might  be  mistaken  on  that 
point,  as  well  as  with  regard  to  its  contents  ;  for  it  was  not  a  New  Testa- 
ment, but  a  book  of  the  Gospels,  as  we  learn  from  a  letter  dated  3rd  Oct. 
1717,  and  published  by  Martene  in  his  second  Voyage  Litteraire.  The 
writer  says,  "  Le  Livre  aux  Evangilea  (juc  je  vis  dans  l'Abbaye  de  Saint 


NO.  XIII.]  IN    THE    DARK    AGES.  205 

I  have  before  referred  to  St.  Jerome's  testimony  as 
to  the  splendour  of  some  books  even  in  his  day;  and  I 
may  just  mention  the  present  of  the  Emperor  Justin  to 
Pope  Hormisda,  made  between  the  years  518  and  523, 
and  including  a  splendid  copy  of  the  Gospels — "sub 
hujus  episcopatu  multa  vasa  aurea  venerunt  de  Grsecia, 
et  evangelia  cum  tabulis  aureis,  cum  gemmis  preciosis 
pensantibus  lib.  15."  &c.3 

As  to  the  period,  however,  with  which  we  are  par- 
ticularly engaged,  Leo  III.,  who  was  pope  when  it 
began,  (having  been  raised  to  the  pontificate  in  the 
year  795,)  gave  to  one  church  "  Evangelium  ex  auro 
mundissimo  cum  gemmis  ornatum  pensans  libras  .  .  .* ;" 
and  to  another  (as  I  have  already  stated)  a  copy  which 
seems  to  have  been  still  more  splendid 5. 

When  the  abbot  Angilbert  restored  the  Abbey  of 
St.  Riquier,  in  a.  d.  814,  he  gave  to  it  (beside  two 
hundred  other  books)  a  copy  of  the  Gospel,  written  in 
letters  of  gold,  with  silver  plates,  marvellously  adorned 
with  gold  and  precious  stones  6. 

Ansegisus,  who  became  Abbot  of  Fontenelle  in  a.  d. 
823,  ordered  the  four  Gospels  to  be  written  with  gold, 
on  purple  vellum,  in  the  Roman  letter ;  and  lived  to 
see  the  Gospels  of  St.  Matthew,  St.  Luke,  and  St. 
John  completed  7. 

At  the  translation  of  the  remains  of  St.  Sebastian 
and  St.  Gregory  to  the  monastery  of  St.  Medard,  at 
Soissons,    in  a.  d.    826,  Lewis   the    Debonnaire  gave 


Emeram,  est  encore  une  rare  et  tres  riche  antiquite,  c'est  un  don  de 
l'Empereur  Henry  IV.  On  m'a  dit  que  Maximilien,  grand-pere  du  Due 
de  Baviere  d'a  present,  ne  scavoit  assez  l'admirer,  et  qu'il  en  avoit  offert 
sa  ville  de  Straubingen  avec  ses  dependances ;  mais  les  bons  moines,  per- 
sua'dez  que  ce  Due  les  leur  reprendroit  en  suite,  quand  il  voudroit,  trou- 
verent  convenable  de  refuser  un  si  bel  offre." — p.  177- 

3  Cone.  iv.  1416.  4  lb.  vii.  1083.  5  See  No.  V.  p.  72. 

fi  Mab.  Act.  Sanct.  O.  B.  torn.  v.  p.  110. 

7  Mab.  ibid.  torn.  vi.  p.  597. 


206  COPIES    OF    THE    GOSPELS  [NO.  XIII. 

several  rich  presents ;  and,  among  others,  a  copy  of 
the  Gospels,  written  in  letters  of  gold,  and  bound  in 
plates  of  the  same  metal,  of  the  utmost  purity  8. 

Hincmar,  who  became  archbishop  of  Rheims  in  the 
year  845,  caused  a  Gospel  to  be  written  for  his  church 
in  letters  of  gold  and  silver,  and  bound  in  gold,  adorned 
with  gems 9 ;  and  another,  specially  for  the  crypt  to 
which  the  remains  of  St.  Remigius  wTere  translated, 
he  bound  in  the  same  way  (parietibus  aureis  gemmarum- 
que  nitore  distinctis  munivit '). 

Leo  IV.,  who  became  pope  two  years  later,  gave 
four  catholic  books  (quatuor  catholicos  libros)  to  the 
church  of  the  Virgin  Mary,  thirty  miles  from  Rome, 
(unum  Evangeliorum,  alium  Regnorum,  Psalmorum, 
atque  Sermonum 2,)  of  which  I  do  not  find  that  they 
were  peculiarly  ornamented ;  but  he  gave  to  another 
church  a  copy  bound  in  silver  plates — "  codex  Evan- 
geliorum cum  tabulis  argenteis 3." 

Of  the  splendid  donations  of  his  successor,  Benedict 
III.,  who  became  pope  in  a.  d.  855,  I  have  already 
spoken4;  and  I  may  here  add,  that  during  his  time 
the  Emperor  Michael  sent  as  a  present  to  St.  Peter's 
(by  the  hand  of  the  monk  Lazarus,  "pictorise  artis 
nimie  eruditi")  a  Gospel,  of  most  pure  gold,  with 
divers  precious  stones  \ 

Everhard,  Count  of  Friuli,  whose  will  of  the  year 
861  has  been  already  mentioned,  beside  his  Bible, 
bequeathed  to  his  children  a  considerable  number  of 
other  books ;  and  among  them  a  Gospel  bound  in 
gold — another  in  ivory — another  in  silver — another, 
which  is  not  particularly  described  6. 

A  charter  of  William,  Abbot  of  Dijon,  relating  to 

8  Ibid.  viii.  388. 

9  Flodoardi  Hist.  Remen.  1.  iii.  c.  v.  ap.  Sirmondi  Op.  torn.  iv.  p.  113. 
1  lb.  c.  ix.  p.  119-  2  Cone.  torn.  viii.  p.  22.  3  lb.  p.  27. 

4  No.  V.  p.  72.  ■  Cone.  viii.  231.  6  II.  Dach.  Sp.  877. 


NO.  XIII.]  IN    THE    DARK    AGES.  207 

the  monastery  of  Frutari,  in  Piedmont,  (and  probably 
of  the  year  1014,)  mentions,  among  the  presents  made 
to  the  monks  of  Dijon,  to  reconcile  them  to  the  with- 
drawment  of  the  recent  foundation  from  dependence 
on  them,  "  textum  unum  auro,  gemmis  et  lapidibus 
mire  ornatum  7." 

Just  in  the  same  year  we  find  the  Emperor  Henry  II., 
who  has  been  already  mentioned  in  connexion  witli 
Meinwerc,  Bishop  of  Paderborn,  making  a  similar 
donation  to  the  church  of  Mersburg  8 ;  and  a  few  years 
afterwards  (in  1022),  on  occasion  of  his  recovery  from 
illness,  at  the  monastery  of  Monte  Casino,  he  presented 
to  it  a  copy  of  the  Gospels,  covered  on  one  side  with 
the  most  pure  gold,  and  most  precious  gems,  written 
in  uncial  characters,  and  illuminated  with  gold  9.  Re- 
turning the  same  year  into  Germany,  he  had  an  inter- 
view with  Robert,  King  of  France,  on  the  banks  of  the 
Meuse,  the  common  boundary  of  their  dominions  ;  but 
of  all  the  rich  presents  offered  by  that  king — presents 
of  gold,  and  silver,  and  jewels,  beside  a  hundred  horses, 
completely  and  sumptuously  equipped,  and  each  bear- 
ing a  knight's  armour — the  emperor  accepted  only  a 
copy  of  the  Gospels,  bound  in  gold  and  precious  stones, 
and  a  reliquary  of  corresponding  workmanship,  con- 
taining (or  supposed  to  contain)  a  tooth  of  St.  Vin- 
cent, for  himself,  and  a  pair  of  gold  ear-rings  for  the 
empress  !. 

The  biographer,  and  almost  contemporary,  of  Anse- 
gisus,  (who  was  abbot  of  St.  Riquier,  near  Abbeville, 
and  died  in  1045,)  informs  us  that  he  contributed 
greatly  to  the  enlargement  of  the  library  :  and  spe- 
cifies— 


7  Mab.  A.  S.  viii.  308,  et  Ann.  Ben.  an.  1003.  xxxiv. 

8  Ditmar.  ap.  i.  Leib.  399.  9  Mab.  A.  S.  viii.  400. 
1  Glab.  Rod.  ap.  Baron,  an.  1023.  iii. 


208  COPIES    OF   THE   GOSPELS  [NO.  XIII. 

"  Librum  Evangelii,  Sancti  vitamque  Richari 
Ipsius  studio  mero  argento  decoravit. 
Est  et  Episto-liber-larum,  atque  Evangeliorum, 
Ipsius   argento  quern  industria  nempe  paravit  V 

Desiderius,  who  became  abbot  of  Monte  Casino  in 
the  year  1058,  (and  who  was  afterwards  Pope  Victor 
III.,)  provided  his  monastery  with  many  costly  books  3 ; 
and  the  Empress  Agnes,  who  came,  as  Leo  Marsicanus 
says,  like  another  Qneen  of  Sheba,  from  the  remote 
parts  of  Germany,  to  behold  another  Solomon,  and 
another  temple,  made  many  rich  gifts  (dona  magnifica) 
to  the  church,  and,  among  the  rest,  a  copy  of  the 
Gospels,  with  one  side  (or,  if  I  may  so  speak,  one 
board)  of  cast  silver,  with  chased  or  embossed  work, 
very  beautifully  gilt 4. 

Paul,  who  became  abbot  of  St.  Alban's  in  the  year 
1077,  gave  to  that  church  "  duos  Textus  auro  et  argento 
et  gemmis  ornatos 5." 

In  the  same  year,  a  charter  of  Hugh,  Duke  of  Bur- 
gundy, giving  the  church  of  Avalon  to  the  monastery 
of  Clugny,  (and  containing  a  "  descriptio  ornamenti 
ipsius  ecclesise,")  mentions  three  copies  of  the  Gospels  ; 
which,  I  presume,  formed  a  part  of  the  115  books 
belonging  to  it ;  "  Textus  unus  aureus,  et  unus  argen- 
teus,  aliusque  dimidius  6." 


2  Mab.  A.  S.  viii.  446. 

3  "  Librum  quoque  Epistolarum  ad  missam  describi  faciens,  tabulis  aurea 
una,  altera  vero  argentea,  decoravit.  Codicem  etiam  Regulae  B.  Benedicti 
pulcro  nimis  opere  deintus  comtum,  a  foris  argento  vestivit;  similiter 
fecit  et  de  Sacramentoriis  altariis  uno  et  altero,  et  duobus  nihilominus 
Evangeliis  et  Bpistolario  un."  Leo  Mar.  ap.  Mab.  A.  S.  ix.  594.  After 
this  we  read,  "  Non  solum  autem  in  sedificiis,  verum  etiam  in  libris  de- 
scribendis  operam  Desiderius  dare  permaximam  studuit;"  and  in  a  very 
respectable  catalogue  of  these  books  we  find,  "  Evangelium  majorem 
auro  et  lapidibus  pretiosis  ornatam,  in  quo  has  reliquias  posuit :  de  ligno 
Domini  et  de  vestimentis  Sancti  Joannis  Evangelistae." — Ibid  p.  608. 

4  Chron.  Cas.  Lib.  iii.  c.  xxx.  p.  609,  and  Mab.  A.  S.  ix.  602. 
6  M.  Paris,  Vit.  S.  Alb.  Abb.  torn.  i.  p.  51. 

0  Dach.  Spic.  iii.  412. 


NO.  XIII.]  IN    THE    DARK    AGES.  209 

In  a  charter  of  a.  d.  1101,  concerning  the  church  at 
Beze,  we  find  a  Textum  Evangelii,  "  coopertum  de 
argento,"  used  in  the  manner  already  repeatedly  re- 
ferred to,  in  the  conveyance  of  property 7. 

The  author  of  the  history  of  the  monastery  of  St. 
Hubert-en- Ardennes  (who  wrote  in  1106)  tells  us  that 
in  his  time  there  was  remaining  in  the  monastery  a 
very  fine  copy  of  the  Gospels,  adorned  with  gold  and 
gems 8. 

Ralph,  Bishop  of  Rochester,  in  1114,  gave  a  "  textum 
pulchre  deauratum"  to  his  church9;  but  I  do  not  feel 
certain  that  in  this  case  the  word  "  textus"  means,  as 
it  generally  does  when  it  stands  alone  (as  it  obviously 
does  in  the  cases  hitherto  mentioned)  a  copy  of  one  or 
more  of  the  Gospels. 

There  can,  however,  be  no  doubt  as  to  the  gift  of 
Walter,  a  successor  in  that  see,  who  became  bishop  in 
1148,  and  gave  "textum  Evangeliorum  aureum1." 

Perhaps  the  instances  which  I  have  given  are  more 
than  enough  to  induce  a  suspicion  that  copies  of  the 
Gospels,  and  even  such  as  were  of  a  splendid  and 
costly  description,  were  not  unfrequently  to  be  met 
with  even  in  the  Dark  Ages ;  and  yet  they  are  not  the 
notices  which  most  strongly  and  obviously  lead  to  such 
an  opinion.  Some  may  even  consider  the  fact  that  a 
book  was  given  to  a  church,  or  a  monastery,  as  imply* 


7  Chron.  Bes.  ap.  Dach.  Spic.  ii.  436. 

8  "  Superest  optimus  sanctorum  Evangeliorum  textus  auro  gemmisque 
paratus ;  superest  psalterium  auro  scriptum  per  denos  psalmos  capitalibus 
litteris  distinctum."  IV.  M.  fy  D.  919.  Martene  adds,  in  a  note  on  the 
word  "  psalterium,"—"  Hactenus  servatur  in  Andaginensi  monasterio 
pretiosissimum  psalterium  auro  elegantissime  exaratum,  non  a  Ludovico 
Pio,  ut  credit  auctor,  sed  a  Lothario  ipsius  filio  donatum,  ut  probant 
versus  qui  initio  codicis  reperiuntur."  The  verses,  and  a  full  account 
of  this  psalter,  with  a  copy  of  the  portrait  of  Lothaire  contained  in  it,  he 
has  given  in  his  second  Voyage  Litteraire,  p.  137- 

9  Ang.  Sac.  i.  342.  '  Ibid.  345. 


P 


210  THE    BIBLE  [NO.  XIII. 

ing  that  it  was  not  already  possessed ;  and  I  will  there- 
fore add  one  or  two  instances,  which  shew  that  churches 
not  uncommonly  (I  believe  I  might  say  all  churches 
that  were  at  all  respectably  endowed  and  appointed) 
had  more  than  one  such  book. 

We  are  not,  I  apprehend,  to  suppose  that  the  mo- 
nastery of  Glastonbury  had  no  copy  of  the  Gospels 
when  Brethwold  (who  had  been  a  monk  there,  and 
became  bishop  of  Salisbury  perhaps  in  a.  d.  1006,)  sent 
them  two 2. 

Olbert,  already  mentioned,  (p.  197)  as  abbot  of 
Gembloux  until  a.  d.  1048,  gave  to  his  monastery 
(beside  the  Bible  which  is  there  mentioned,)  one  gold 
and  three  silver  copies  of  the  Gospels,  and  one  silver 
copy  of  the  Epistles 3. 

Among  the  furniture  of  his  chapel,  bequeathed  by 
King  Robert  (whose  present  to  the  emperor  Henry 
has  been  noticed  at  p.  207)  to  the  church  of  St.  Anian, 
at  Orleans,  wTere  "  deux  livres  d'Evangiles,  garnis  d'or, 
deux  d'argent,  deux  autres  petits  V 

John,  Bishop  of  Bath  in  1160,  implied  a  bequest  of 
more  than  one  copy  to  the  Abbey  church  when  he 
left  to  the  blessed  apostle  St.  Peter,  and  to  his  servants 
the  monks,  (inter  alia,)  all  that  he  had  collected  "  in 
ornamentis  ecclesiasticis,"  or,  as  he  proceeded  to  spe- 
cify, "  in  crucibus,  in  teMibus,  in  calicibus,"  &c. 5  I 
quote  this  instance  because  the  reader  will  observe  that 
these  costly  books  were  considered  as  a  part  of  the 
treasure  of  the  church,  rather  than  merely  as  books ; 
and,  indeed,  the  bishop  bequeathed  them  as  a  distinct 
legacy  from  his  whole  library  (plenarium  armarium 
meum),  which  he  also  gave  to  the  church. 

For  this  reason,  and  not  for  this  only,  I  will  also 


8  Guil.  Malm.  ap.  Gale,  torn.  iii.  325.  '  Mab.  A.  S.  viii.  530. 

4  Fleury,  t.  xii.  p.  491.  5  Dugd.  Mon.  i.  186. 


NO.  XIII.]  IN    THE    DARK    AGES.  211 

mention  another  case,  although — perhaps  I  should  say 
because — it  is  nearly  a  century  more  modern  than  the 
period  with  which  we  are  engaged.  At  a  visitation  of 
the  treasury  of  St.  Paul's,  in  the  year  1295,  by  Ralph 
de  Baudoke,  or  Baldock,  the  Dean,  (afterwards  bishop 
of  London,)  it  appears  that  there  were  found  twelve 
copies  of  the  Gospels,  all  adorned  with  silver,  some 
with  gilding,  pearls  and  gems ;  and  another,  which  pre- 
sents an  unusual  feature — "  Textus  ligneus  desuper 
ornatus  platis  argenteis  deauratis  cum  subtili  triphorio 
in  superiori  limbo  continens  xi  capsas  cum  reliquiis 
ibidem  descriptis  V  I  call  the  decoration  of  the  Gos- 
pels with  relics  an  unusual  feature,  because,  though  I 
have  not  intentionally  suppressed  it,  it  has  appeared  in 
only  one  of  the  cases  already  mentioned  ;  and,  common 
as  the  custom  might  afterwards  be,  I  do  not  believe 
that  it  was  so  (if  indeed  it  could  be  said  to  exist  as  a 
custom  at  all)  before  the  thirteenth  century.  I  know 
of  only  one  other  exception,  which  belongs  to  the 
twelfth  century,  and  will  be  noticed  presently. 

There  is  another  circumstance  which  throws  some 
light  on  this  point.  It  may  be  supposed  that  great 
care  was  taken  of  these  books ;  and  in  fact  they  were 
frequently  kept  in  cases  as  valuable,  in  respect  of  orna- 
ment, as  themselves.  Often,  indeed,  I  apprehend,  the 
case  was  the  most  valuable  of  the  two,  and  is  men- 
tioned among  the  treasure  of  the  church  when  the 
book  which  it  contained  is  not  noticed  because  there 
was  nothing  uncommon  about  it,  and  no  particular  cir- 


6  Dugd.  Monast.  iii.  309.  324.  Beside  the  parts  of  the  Scriptures 
mentioned  above,  there  were  six  Epistolaria,  four  Evangelistaria,  two 
Bibles,  (one  "  de  bona  litera  antiqua,"  and  the  other  "  in  duobus  volumi- 
nibus  nova  peroptimse  litera?,")  a  glossed  copy  of  the  Epistles  of  St.  Paul, 
the  same  of  the  Gospels  of  St.  Luke  and  St.  John,  two  copies  of  St.  Mat- 
thew and  St.  Mark,  with  the  commentary  of  Thomas  Aquinas,  and  the 
twelve  prophets,  glossed. 

p2 


212  THE    BIBLE  [NO.  XIII. 

cumstance  as  to  its  writer  or  donor  which  was  thought 
worthy  of  record.  From  some  of  the  notices,  however, 
of  these  cases  or  coverings  7,  we  get  farther  ground  for 
supposing  that  there  were  not  unfrequently  a  good 
many  copies  of  the  Gospels  in  a  church  or  monastery. 
For  instance,  in  the  St.  Riquier  return,  already  more 
than  once  referred  to,  beside  the  Bibles  which  I  have 
noticed,  and  beside  three  other  copies  of  the  Gospels 
and  five  lectionaries  containing  the  Epistles  and  Gos- 
pels, we  find,  "  Evangelium  auro  Scriptum  unum,  cum 
capsa  argentea  gemmis  et  lapidibus  fabricata.  Alice 
capsce  evangeliorum  duse  ex  auro  et  argento  paratse  8." 
A  passage,  too,  in  Ado's  Chronicle,  given  by  Du  Cange, 
seems  to  imply  that  the  place  to  which  it  refers  had 
several  copies,  "  Viginti  capsas  evangeliorum  ex  auro 
purissimo,  gemmario  opere  cselatas 9 ;"  and  William  of 
Malmesbury,  in  the  account  which  he  gives  of  the  cha- 
pel which  King  Ina  made  at  Glastonbury,  tells  us  that 
twenty  pounds  and  sixty  marks  of  gold  were  used  in 
making  the  "  Coopertoria  Librorum  Evangelii  V     Two 


7  Capsce,  or  coopertoria — for  it  is  not  necessary  to  speak  of  the  camisice 
(chemises)  librorum,  which  I  suppose  to  have  been  only  washable  covers 
to  keep  the  books  clean, — or  thecee,  or,  as  I  have  only  once  found  the 
word  used,  bibliothecce.  At  the  dedication  of  Ripon  church,  Archbishop 
Wilfrid  (who  lived  till  711) 

" quatuor  auro 

Scribi  Evangelii  praecepit  in  ordine  libros, 

Ac  thecam  e  rutilo  his  condignam  condidit  auro." 

(Godwin  de  Praes.,  654.) 

Or,  as  the  prose  historian  who  wrote  soon  afterwards  informs  us,  it  was 
a  sort  of  miracle  such  as  had  not  been  heard  of  before  their  times,  being 
written  with  the  purest  gold  on  purple  vellum,  and  contained  in  a  superb 
case, — "  necnon  et  bibliothecam  librorum  eorum  omnem  de  auro  purissimo, 
et  gemmis  pretiosissimis  fabrefactam,  compaginare  inclusores  gemmarum 
praecepit." — Edd.  Steph.  ap.  Gale,  Scr.  XV.,  p.  60.  Another  name  was 
cavea,  as  the  reader  may  see  in  Du  Cange,  who  quotes  from  Eckhardus, 
junior,  (who  wrote  about  the  year  1040,)  "  fit  de  auro  Petri  cavea  Evan- 
gelii," &c. 

8  Chron.  Cent.  ap.  Dach.  Spic.  ii.  310.  9  In  v.  Capsa. 
1  Ap.  Gale,  Scr.  XV.  311. 


NO.  XIII.]  IN    THE    DARK    AGES.  213 

objections  which  may  be  made  to  the  evidence  arising 
from  these  capscs,  though  they  do  not  seem  to  me  to 
be  of  any  weight,  it  may  be  fair  to  mention ; — first, 
we  are  not  certain  that  the  owners  always  had  quite  as 
many  books  as  they  had  cases  for  holding  them ;  and, 
secondly,  as  these  capsce  were  very  costly  and  orna- 
mental, those  who  wrote  the  history  of  their  monas- 
teries might  be  tempted  to  pretend  that  they  had  more 
than  they  really  possessed.  If,  however,  these  same 
monkish  chroniclers,  in  describing  their  premises,  had 
told  us  that  the  abbot's  stable  contained  twelve  or 
twenty  stalls,  we  should  be  apt  to  infer,  that  though 
some  stalls  might  be  empty,  or  the  number  of  the 
whole  exaggerated,  it  was  nevertheless  no  very  uncom- 
mon thing  for  an  abbot  to  be  pretty  well  furnished 
with  horses ;  and  some  such  inference,  confirmed  as  it 
is  by  direct  evidence,  I  think  we  may  fairly  draw  with 
regard  to  books. 

Hitherto  I  have  only  spoken  of  those  costly  and 
precious  volumes  which,  as  I  have  already  remarked, 
were  considered  as  belonging  to  the  treasury,  rather 
than  to  the  library,  of  the  church.  They  were,  I 
apprehend,  for  the  most  part,  brought  out  only  on 
festivals,  the  church  being  provided  with  others  for 
daily  use.  Thus  Berward,  who  became  bishop  of  Hil- 
desheim  in  the  year  993,  and  who  was  (as  we  learn 
from  his  fond  old  schoolmaster  and  biographer,  Tang- 
mar,)  a  man  skilful  in  the  arts — if  I  may  use  such  a 
word  in  speaking  of  such  a  period, — "fecit  et  ad 
solemnem  processionem  in  praecipuis  festis,  Evangelia 
auro  et  gemmis  clarissima 2 ;"  and  Martin,  the  monk  of 
Moutier-neuf,  at  Poitiers,  tells  us,  that  on  the  anni- 
versary of  their  founder  (Count  Geoffrv  or  William, 
who  died  in  1086,)  they  used  to  perform  mass  in  much 

-  Leib.  Scr.  Brun.  i.  445.     Mab.  A.  S.  viii.  184. 


214  THE    BIBLE  [NO.  XIII. 

the  same  way  as  on  festivals ;  and  he  adds,  "  nee  aureus 
textus  deest3."  Indeed  I  need  not  say  that  such  a 
style  of  binding  could  not  have  been  adopted  for  books 
in  general,  or  books  in  common  use.  To  have  bestowed 
such  pains  and  expense  on  books  for  private  use,  or  for 
any  use  but  that  of  the  church,  would  have  been  incon- 
sistent, perhaps,  with  the  ideas  of  some  strict  ascetics, 
and  at  any  rate  it  could  never  have  become  general 4. 
Others,  perhaps,  beside  Godehard,  (the  successor  of 
Berward  just  mentioned,  in  the  see  of  Hildesheim,) 
had  a  fancy  to  adorn  their  books  (though  I  apprehend 
that  here  we  must  understand  service-books)  with 
small  stones  of  white,  or  black,  or  red,  or  variegated 
hues,  cut  and  polished  after  the  manner  of  gems.  He 
used  to  set  the  children,  and  those  paupers  who  were 
not  fit  for  other  work,  to  collect  such  pebbles ;  and  a 
crippled  servant  of  the  monastery,  who  was  glad  to  do 
what  little  he  could,  was  particularly  useful  in  that 
matter 5 ;  but  generally,  I  apprehend,  the  binding  of 
books  was  in  parchment  or  plain  leather. 


3  Hist.  Mon.  Novi.  ap.  Mart.  iii.  1218. 

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

5  "  Quicquid  tamen  a  pueris  fieri  vidit,  quod  vel  sedendo  vel  proreptando 
agere  potuit ;  in  hoc  se  voluntaria  utilitate  studiosus  exercuit,  nee  prorsus 
aliquod  tempus,  nisi  cum  somnum  vel  cibum  caperet,  transire  sibi  patie- 


NO.  XIII.]  IN    THE    DARK    AGES.  215 

"About  the  year  790,"  says  Warton,  "Charle- 
magne granted  an  unlimited  right  of  hunting  to  the 
abbot  and  monks  of  Sithiu  for  making  their  gloves  and 
girdles  of  the  skins  of  the  deer  they  killed,  and  covers 
for  their  books.  We  may  imagine  that  these  religious 
were  more  fond  of  hunting  than  reading.  It  is  certain 
that  they  were  obliged  to  hunt  before  they  could  read, 
and  at  least  it  is  probable  that  under  these  circum- 
stances they  did  not  manufacture  many  volumes6." 
This  passage  I  have  read  over  many  times,  and  I  really 
cannot  make  any  sense  of  it.  Why  should  Charle- 
magne's grant  induce  such  suppositions  ?  Why  are  we 
to  imagine  that  these  monks  loved  hunting  better  than 
reading?  Why  must  they  hunt  before  they  could 
read  ?  Why  is  it  probable  that  they  did  not  "  manu- 
facture" (a  strange  term  for  binding  a  book,  and  one 
which  looks  as  if  Warton  supposed  that  they  were  to 
write  on  buck-skin)  "many  volumes  under  these  cir- 
cumstances" the  chief  circumstances  being  (according  to 
his  account)  an  "unlimited"  right  to  hunt  for  leather, 
granted  by  the  sovereign  of  such  extensive  dominions? 
I  cannot  help  suspecting  that  there  may  be  a  meaning 
in  the  passage  which  I  am  not  acute  enough  to  per- 
ceive, for  to  me  the  grant  appears  rather  to  intimate 
that  the  monks  who  obtained  such  a  privilege  must 
have  done  (or,  to  say  the  least,  must  have  been  sup- 
posed to  do)  a  good  deal  in  the  way  of  book-binding. 

batur,  quin  semper  in  aliquo  utilis  esse  videretur.  Consuetudo  namque 
dilecto  nostro  pontifici  fuit  ut  puerulos,  vel  etiam  pauperes  validiores 
saepius  per  plateas,  vel  per  defossas  petrarum  foveas  ageret,  qui  sibi  lapillos 
minutos  quosdam  nivei  colons,  vel  nigri,  vel  rubri  interdum,  vel  varii, 
deferrent :  quos  ipse  elimatos,  et  politos  variaque  collisione  vel  confrica- 
tione  in  similitudine  pretiosorum  lapidum  redactos,  aut  in  altaribus,  aut 
libris,  aut  in  capsis  honeste  collocavit.  In  quo  nimirum  opere,  praedictus 
ille  pauper  se  privatim  exercuit,  et  caeterorum  industriam  utiliter  praevenit, 
et  pro  curiositate  tali  episcopo  penitus  complacuit." — Vita  Godehardi  ap. 
Leib.  Scr.  Brun.  i.  500. 

6  Dissert,  ii.  prefixed  to  his  Hist,  of  Poetry. 


216  THE    BIBLE  [NO.  XIII. 

But  here,  as  in  too  many  of  the  facetious  anecdotes 
of  the  dark  ages,  when  we  turn  out  the  reference  we 
find  that  the  story  is  false,  not  only  as  to  the  s.pirit, 
but  the  letter.  The  charter  stands,  indeed,  as  Warton 
tells  us,  "  Mab.  de  Re  Dipl.  611.,"  but  as  soon  as  we 
look  at  it,  the  "  unlimited  right"  becomes  sadly  circum- 
scribed ;  and  as  to  the  jolly  abbot  and  his  sporting 
monks,  "  paf — all  should  be  gone,"  like  "  de  great  Peol- 
phan"  and  his  spectre  train.  The  limitation  of  the 
grant  to  the  woods  belonging  to  the  monastery  is 
express,  and  is  even  reduced  by  the  exception  of  such 
royal  forests  as  were  set  apart  for  the  emperor's  diver- 
sion ;  and  the  fun  of  the  religious  hunt  is  entirely 
spoiled  by  the  fact  that  the  permission  is  not  for  the 
monks,  but  for  the  servants  of  the  monastery,  to  hunt 
for  the  useful  purposes  specified  in  the  charter 7.     That 


7  "  Concessimus  Autlando  abbati  et  monachis  ex  monasterio  Sithiu  .  .  . 
.  .  .  ut  ex  nostra  indulgentia  in  eorum  proprias  silvas  licentiam  haberent 
eorum  homines  venationem  exercere,  unde  fratres  consolationem  habere 
possint,  tam  ad  volumina  librorum  tegenda,  quamque  et  manicias  et  ad 
zonas  faciendas,  salvas  forestes  nostras,  quas  ad  opus  nostrum  constitutas 
habemus."  The  emperor  then  goes  on  to  charge  all  his  subjects,  to  whom 
the  charter  is  addressed  (omnium  fidelium  nostrorum  magnitudini)  that 
they  should  not  presume  to  oppose  the  exercise  of  this  privilege  by  the 
abbot,  his  successor,  and  their  men,  (abbate,  aut  successoribus  suis,  seu 
hominibus  eorum — but  nothing  of  the  monks,)  "  nisi  liceat  eorum  homini- 
bus  ut  supra  diximus  ex  nostra  indulgentia  in  eorum  proprias  silvas  vena- 
tionem exercere."  Indeed,  who  that  knew  anything  of  Charlemagne  or 
his  laws  could  expect  to  find  him  patronizing  a  company  of  mere  sporting 
monks  ?  Let  me  give  two  short  instances  from  his  Capitularies,  one 
earlier,  and  the  other  more  recent,  than  the  charter  in  question  : — "  Omni- 
bus servis  Dei  venationes  et  silvaticas  vagationes  cum  canibus,  et  ut  acci- 
pitres  et  falcones  non  habeant,  interdicimus."  This  is  only  a  repetition  of 
previous  enactments  by  his  predecessors,  made  probably  quite  at  the 
beginning  of  his  reign.  In  802  we  find  "  Ut  episcopi,  abbates,  presbyteri, 
diaconi,  nullusque  ex  omni  clero  canes  ad  venandum,  aut  acceptores,  fal- 
cones, seu  sparvarios  habere  prsesumant ;  sed  pleniter  se  unusquisque  in 
ordine  suo  canonice  vel  regulariter  custodiant.  Qui  autem  praesumpserit, 
sciat  unusquisque  honorem  suum  perdere.  Caeteri  vero  tale  exinde  dam- 
num patiantur  ut  reliqui  metum  habeant  talia  sibi  usurpare." — Capit.  edit. 
Baluz.  torn.  i.  191.  369. 


NO.  XIII.]  IN    THE    DARK    AGES.  217 

charter,  as  far  as  I  see,  contains  nothing  which  should 
lead  us  to  suppose  that  the  monks  of  Sithiu  ever 
hunted  at  all,  or  that  "these  religious"  were  inferior 
to  the  modern  priest  who  has  held  them  up  to  scorn, 
either  in  the  knowledge  or  the  practice  of  that  which 
their  character  and  station  required. 

There  is  however  another  point  relating  to  these 
costly  books  which  must  not  be  omitted.  Their  extra- 
ordinary value  would  of  course  lead  to  their  being 
taken  great  care  of — but  then  it  would  also  render 
them  peculiarly  liable  to  destruction.  It  is  probable 
that  such  books  were  among  the  "  insignia  ornamenta" 
of  the  church  of  St.  Benignus  at  Dijon,  when  they 
were  stolen  on  one  of  the  anniversaries  of  the  patron 
saint's  day  in  the  eleventh  century 8 ;  and  the  soldiers 
who  plundered  Nigel,  Bishop  of  Ely,  in  the  time  of 
King  Stephen,  thought  it  worth  while  to  carry  off  a 
copy  of  the  Gospels  adorned  with  relics  9.  But  beside 
downright  and  forcible  robbery,  or  even  fraudulent 
abstraction,  there  were  many  reasons  why  these  books 
were  liable  to  be  destroyed.  Though  it  does  not  enter 
into  the  design  of  this  paper  to  refer  to  the  present 
state,  or  even  the  present  existence,  of  such  manu- 
scripts, (and,  indeed,  I  purposely  avoid  speaking  of 
some,  merely  because  they  are  known  to  be  now  in 
existence,  and  therefore  belong  to  another  part  of  the 
subject,)  yet  as  I  have  mentioned  the  Bible  presented 
by  Lewis  the  Debonnaire  in  the  year  826,  I  may  here 
add  that  Mabillon  tells  us  that  it  was  still  in  existence, 
with  silver  plates,  which  had  been  supplied  by  the 
Abbot  Ingrannus  in  the  year  1168,  to  replace  the  ori- 
ginal golden  ones  which  had  somehow  disappeared. 


8  "  Latronum  fraude  in  ipsius  sancti  festivitate,  occisis  custodibus  farto 
fuerunt  asportata."— Mab.  A.  S.  viii.  301. 

9  Aug    Sac.  l.  622. 


218  THE    BIBLE  [NO.  XIII. 

Of  course,  various  things — charity  and  need,  as  well 
as  cupidity, — were  likely  to  produce  what  was  then 
termed  encrustation,  and  to  risk,  if  not  almost  to  ensure, 
the  destruction  of  the  manuscript  itself.  Charity, — as 
when  all  the  valuables  (omne  ornamentum  in  auro  et 
argento)  belonging  to  the  church  of  St.  Benignus  of 
Dijon  were  sacrificed  to  provide  relief  for  the  poor  in 
the  famine  of  a.  d.  1001 1 ;  or  when,  five  years  after- 
wards, Odilo,  Abbot  of  Clugni,  having  exhausted  all 
other  sources,  was  obliged  to  apply  the  sacred  vessels 
to  the  same  object2.  Need, — as  when,  in  order  to 
meet  the  heavy  tax  laid  by  William  Rufus  to  raise 
money  for  the  purchase  of  Normandy,  Godfrey,  Abbot 
of  Malmesbury,  (pessimorum  usus  consilio,  quos  nomi- 
nare  possem,  si  peccantium  societas  crimen  alleviare  posset 
magistri,  says  William  the  historian,)  stripped  no  less 
than  twelve  copies  of  the  Gospels 3 ;  or  when  William 
de  Longchamp,  who  became  bishop  of  Ely  in  the 
year  1190,  contributed  one  hundred  and  sixty  marks 
towards  the  redemption  of  King  Richard,  and,  to  raise 
the  money,  pawned  thirteen  copies  of  the  gospels, 
including  one  of  great  value  which  had  belonged  to 
King  Edgar 4. 

That  books  thus  pawned  did  not  always  find  their  way 
back  may  be  imagined;  and  indeed  we  are  told  that 
three  books,  adorned  with  gold  and  silver  and  precious 
stones,  were  lost  to  the  abbey  of  Laurisheim  about  the 
year  1130,  owing  to  their  advocate,  Bertolf,  having 
been  allowed  by  the  abbot,  Diemo,  to  raise  money 
upon  them.    Whether  these  copies  of  the  Gospels  ever 


1  Mab.  A.  S.  torn.  viii.  p.  300. 

2  "Exhaustis  in  egentium  usus  horreis  et   aerariis,  sacra  etiam   vasa 
confregerit." — Mab.  Ann.  an.  1006,  torn.  iv.  170. 

3  "  Die  uno  xii.  textus  Evangeliorum,  viii.  cruces,  viii.  scrinia  argento 
et  auro  nudata  et  excrustata  sunt." — Vita  Aldh.  ap.  Ang.  Sac.  ii.  44. 

*  Ang.  Sac.  i.  633. 


NO.  XIII.]  IN    THE    DARK    AGES.  219 

ran  a  risk  of  having  the  inside  as  well  as  the  outside 
falsified,  and  a  false  reading  or  gem  substituted  for  a 
true  one,  I  do  not  know ;  but  it  is  certain  that  a 
"  textus  aureus  "  belonging  to  the  church  of  Ely  was 
once  pledged  to  the  Jews  of  Cambridge.  This,  how- 
ever, belongs  rather  to  the  dangers  arising  from  cupi- 
dity, if  we  may  trust  Richard  of  Ely,  who  mentions  the 
circumstance  in  his  long  list  of  the  depredations  com- 
mitted by  Nigel,  already  mentioned  5.  This  source  of 
danger  is  indeed  obvious  enough ;  and  I  will  here  give 
only  one  other  instance,  which  I  am  unwilling  to  omit 
because  it  refers  to  a  considerable  number  of  copies. 
The  historian  who  relates  the  destruction  of  Hide 
Abbey,  near  Winchester,  tells  us  that  Henry,  who  was 
bishop  of  that  see  from  a.  d.  1129  to  1174,  got  the 
monastery  into  his  hands.  After  it  had  been  burned 
in  the  year  1141,  the  monks  got  out  of  the  ashes  sixty 
pounds  of  silver,  and  fifteen  pounds  of  gold,  and  various 
other  things,  which  they  brought  to  the  bishop,  who 
subsequently  committed  the  care  of  the  monastery  to 
Hugo  Schorchevylene,  a  monk  of  Clugni,  whom  he 
made  abbot.  This  monk  having,  by  the  bishop's  direc- 
tion, dispersed  thirty  out  of  the  forty  monks,  laid  hands 


5  "  Item  pro  parvo  textu  aureo  et  pro  ansa  argentea  dedit  v.  marcas 
cuidam  de  Thetford  ;  et  praeterea  uno  anno  abstulit  de  Sacristaria  xxiv. 
marcas  et  vi.  solidos.  Anteavero  praedictam  crucem  et  textum  similiter  pro 
nummis  transposuerat  Judaeis  apud  Cantebrigge,  quae  gloriosus  rex  saepe 
dictus  Edgarus  ob  signum  libertatis  suae  et  munificentiae  ibi  donavit :  et  ne 
tanto  muniminis  titulo  frustrarentur,  Monachi  dederunt  cc.  marcas  per 
manus  Willelmi  prions." — Hist.  Elien.  ap.  Ang.  Sac.  i.  625.  As  to  the 
importance  of  the  Jews  of  Cambridge  a  few  years  before  this  time,  see 
Fuller's  History  of  the  University,  p.  4,  §  11,  12;  but  in  his  quotation 
from  Peter  of  Blois  he  omits  his  testimony  that  a  principal  object  of  Gis- 
lebert's  preaching  was  the  refutation  of  Judaism  ;  and  that,  in  fact,  several 
Jews  were  converted  by  it.  "  Verbum  Dei  ad  populum  praedicans  .  .  . 
contra  Judaicum  errorem  maxime  disputabat  .  .  .  cumque  nonnulli  incre- 
duli  et  adhuc  Judaica  perfidia  caecati  ad  ejus  verba  in  sinum  matris  eccle- 
siae,  relicto  penitus  suo  pristino  errore,  compuncti  accurrerunt,"  &c. — 
Pet.  Bles.  ap   Rer.  Ang.  Scr.  torn.  i.  p.  114. 


220  THE    BIBLE  [NO.  XIII. 

on  the  treasures  of  the  church,  and  stripped  ten  copies 
of  the  Gospels  6. 

It  may  probably  be  said,  that  too  many  of  those  who 
gave  and  received  these  costly  volumes  thought  more 
of  the  outside  than  the  inside,  and  even  forgot  that  the 
rich  cover  enclosed  the  more  precious  Word  of  God ; 
— it  may  have  been  so,  though  I  hope  not  always, — 
but  I  beg  the  reader  to  take  care  that  he  does  not  fall 
into  much  the  same  error.  I  hope  he  will  not  forget 
that,  whether  in  sackcloth  and  ashes,  or  in  gold  and 
silver,  each  of  the  books  which  I  have  here  spoken  of 
was  the  Gospel  of  Christ.  Should  he  think  that, 
although  tiresome  for  their  sameness,  these  instances 
are  not  in  fact  very  numerous,  I  would  repeat  that 
they  are  only  such  as  have  occurred  to  me,  in  circum- 
stances not  the  most  favourable  for  research ;  and  I 
must  add,  that  while  I  have  met  with  these  notices  of 
the  Scriptures,  and  with  many  others  which  I  hope  to 
bring  forward  in  this  argument,  I  have  not  found  any- 
thing about  the  arts  and  engines  of  hostility,  the  blind 
hatred  of  half-barbarian  kings,  the  fanatical  fury  of 
their  subjects,  or  the  reckless  antipathy  of  the  popes. 
I  do  not  recollect  any  instance  in  which  it  is  recorded 
that  the  Scriptures,  or  any  part  of  them,  were  treated 
with  indignity,  or  with  less  than  profound  respect.  I 
know  of  no  case  in  which  they  were  intentionally  de- 
faced or  destroyed,  (except,  as  I  have  just  stated,  for 
their  rich  covers,)  though  I  have  met  with,  and  hope 


6  "  Manum  in  sanctuarium  Domini  extendens,  cruces  quinque,  scrinia 
decern,  textus  totidem  auro  argento  gemmisque  pretiosis  ornatos,  .  .  .  ex- 
crustavit." — Dug.  Mon.  i.  210.  One  cannot  suppose  that  this  sort  of 
spoliation  was  known  to  the  bishop,  whose  taste  for  costly  ornament  was 
so  fully  proved.  In  particular,  Giraldus  Cambrensis  tells  us  that  "  Cathe- 
dralem  ecclesiam  suam  palliis  purpureis  et  olosericis  cortinis  et  auhvis 
preciosissimis,  textis,  philateriis,  crucibus  aureis  .  .  .  usque  ad  regum  invi- 
diam exornavit." — Any.  Sac.  torn.  ii.  p.  421. 


NO.  XIII.]  IN    THE    DARK    AGES.  221 

to  produce  several  instances,  in  some  of  which  they 
were  the  only,  and  in  others  almost  the  only,  books 
which  were  preserved  through  the  revolutions  of  the 
monasteries  to  which  they  belonged,  and  all  the  ravages 
of  fire,  pillage,  carelessness,  or  whatever  else  had  swept 
away  all  the  others.  I  know  (and  in  saying  this  I  do 
not  mean  anything  but  to  profess  my  ignorance,  for 
did  I  suppress  such  knowledge  I  might  well  be  charged 
with  gross  dishonesty,)  of  nothing  which  should  lead 
me  to  suppose  that  any  human  craft  or  power  was 
exercised  to  prevent  the  reading,  the  multiplication, 
the  diffusion  of  the  Word  of  God.  When,  therefore, 
after  having  written  almost  all  the  foregoing  pages,  a 
periodical  work  fell  into  my  hands  containing  the  pas- 
sage which  stands  at  the  head  of  this  paper,  I  could 
not  resist  the  temptation  to  borrow  it  as  a  motto.  In 
so  using  it  I  mean  no  offence  to  the  gentleman  from 
whose  tercentenary  sermon  it  purports  to  be  an  extract, 
but  only  to  call  the  attention  of  the  public  to  the  dif- 
ferent views  which  are  held,  and  the  different  state- 
ments which  are  made,  on  a  very  interesting  subject, 
in  the  hope  that  truth  may  be  thereby  elicited. 

Whether,  however,  the  Scriptures  were  exposed  to 
this  treatment  in  the  dark  ages,  or  not,  I  hope  to  shew 
as  the  next  step  in  the  argument  that  there  are  still  in 
existence  many  copies  which  belonged  to  that  period  ; 
and  in  the  meantime  to  draw  the  reader's  attention  to 
some  circumstances  which,  to  my  own  mind,  render  it 
a  matter  of  astonishment  that  we  possess  so  many. 


222 


No.  XIV. 

"  Still  I  am  not  satisfied ;  and  the  stubborn  fact  of  scarcity  inclines  me 
to  suspect  that  the  pens  of  the  monks  were  less  constantly  employed  than 
many  would  induce  us  to  believe." — Berington. 

Without  entering  into  any  question  here  as  to  what 
may,  or  may  not,  be  properly  called  scarcity,  in  regard  to 
ancient  manuscripts,  let  us  assume  that  its  existence  is 
a  stubborn  and  undeniable  fact ;  yet  that  fact  may, 
perhaps,  admit  of  some  explanation.  Suppose  there 
are  but  few  manuscripts  in  existence,  it  is  no  proof 
that  but  few  were  written;  and,  indeed,  I  must  say, 
that  from  what  I  have  been  able  to  learn  respecting 
the  real  number,  of  which  this  surviving  scarcity  con- 
sists, and  the  circumstances  under  which  they  have 
been  preserved,  I  can  only  wonder  that  we  have  so 
many — or,  I  am  almost  tempted  to  say,  that  we  have 
any — manuscripts  seven  or  eight  hundred  years  old. 
It  is,  however,  quite  clear,  that  if  we  would  form  any 
opinion  of  the  state  of  literature,  or  means  of  know- 
ledge, in  the  Dark  Ages,  we  must,  in  some  degree, 
enter  into  this  question,  and  cannot  pass  it  over  with  a 
slight  allusion  to  the  ravages  of  time.  It  is  necessary 
to  our  design  ;  and  I  am  inclined  to  hope,  that  a  short 
and  superficial  sketch,  such  as  the  nature  of  these 
essays  admits,  may  not  be  altogether  uninteresting. 
As  a  great  part  of  my  illustrations  will  be  drawn  from 
the  reports  of  some  literary  travellers,  I  will  first  give 
some  notice  of  them,  in  order  that  I  may  hereafter 
refer  to  them  with  more  brevity,  and  that  such  of  my 
readers  as  are  not  acquainted  with  the  books  may 
understand  my  references. 

Between  the  16th  of  April  and  the  10th  of  June, 
1682,    Dom    Mabillon,    accompanied    by    his    brother 


NO.  XIV.]  LITERARY    TRAVELS.  223 

Benedictine,  Michael  Germanus,  made  a  journey 
through  Melun,  Sens,  Auxerre,  Dijon,  Verdun,  Cha- 
lons sur  Saone,  and  Autun,  to  Lyons,  and  returned 
by  way  of  Moulins.  In  the  course  of  this  excursion 
they  visited  Citeaux,  Clugni,  and  many  other  monas- 
teries, and  overhauled  their  manuscripts ;  the  object 
of  their  journey  being  to  examine,  or  to  search  for, 
some  documents  relating  to  the  royal  family.  How 
far  this  was  openly  avowed,  and  whether  it  was  known 
even  to  the  younger  of  the  two  travellers,  I  cannot 
tell ;  but  Mabillon's  acknowledged  supremacy,  in  all 
such  matters,  naturally  pointed  him  out  to  the  minister 
Colbert  as  the  fittest  person  to  be  sent  on  such  an 
errand.  That  he  executed  it  with  skill  and  fidelity, 
and,  at  the  same  time,  took  an  opportunity  of  doing  a 
little  business  in  his  own  way,  of  antiquarian  research, 
nobody  will  doubt.  Two  years  after,  he  drew  up  an 
account  of  his  tour;  and  it  was  subsequently  printed 
under  the  title  of  "  Iter  Burgundicum 1." 

The  next  year,  they  went,  by  the  same  order,  through 
part  of  Germany,  taking  the  route  of  Basil,  Zurich, 
Augsburg,  Munich,  &c.  They  set  out  on  the  30th  of 
June,  and  appear  to  have  returned  in  October.  Mabil- 
lon  prefixed  an  account  of  this  journey  to  his  "  Vetera 
Analecta,"  under  the  title  of  "  Iter  Germanicum 2." 

In  the  year  1685,  at  the  suggestion  of  Le  Tellier, 
Archbishop  of  Rheims — the  brother  of  the  minister 
who  had  succeeded  Colbert,  and  the  owner  of  50,000 
volumes — Mabillon  was  sent,  at  the  royal  cost,  to 
investigate  the  libraries  of  Italy,  and  to  procure  books 
for  the  king's  library.  He  set  out,  with  the  same  com- 
panion as  before,  on  the  1st  of  April,  and  returned  in 
the  June  of  the  following  year.     The  royal  library  was 


It  will  be  referred  to  as,  It.  Burg.  •  It.  Germ. 


224  LITERARY    TRAVELS.  [NO.  XIV. 

enriched  by  the  addition  of  3000  volumes  ;  and  Mabil- 
lon  published  an  account  of  the  journey,  in  the  first 
volume  of  his  "  Museum  Italicum,"  under  the  title  of 
"  Iter  Italicum  3." 

Again  this  father  set  out  in  the  year  1696,  accom- 
panied by  another  Benedictine — the  well-known  Ruin- 
art  ;  and,  between  the  20th  of  August  and  the  10th  of 
November,  they  travelled  through  most  of  Alsace  and 
Lorraine,  conducting  themselves,  in  respect  of  all  libra- 
ries which  they  could  meet  with,  in  the  way  which 
might  be  expected  from  them.  Ruinart  drew  up  an 
account  of  the  journey,  which  he  entitled,  "  Iter  Lit- 
ter arium  in  Alsatiam  et  Lotharingiam  V 

When  Father  Mountfaucon  had  completed  the 
Benedictine  edition  of  "  Athanasius,"  he  became  con- 
vinced that  the  Greek  fathers  could  not  be  properly 
edited  without  first  ransacking  the  libraries  of  Italy 
for  manuscripts ;  and,  therefore,  (permissu  superiorum,) 
he  and  Father  Paul  Brioys  set  off  for  that  purpose  on 
the  18th  of  May,  1698,  and  did  not  return  until  the 
11th  of  June,  1701.  In  the  course  of  the  next  year 
he  published  his  "  Diarium  Italicum 5;"  which  was,  I 
believe,  the  year  after,  translated  into  English. 

The  Benedictines  of  St.  Maur — that  learned  body, 
to  which  all  the  travellers  hitherto  mentioned  belonged 
— having  determined  to  undertake  a  new  edition  of  the 
"  Gallia  Christiana,"  resolved  to  send  one  of  their  num- 
ber to  collect  what  materials  he  could,  for  correction 
and  addition,  from  the  various  libraries,  churches,  and 
monasteries  of  France.  "  La  resolution,"  says  Dom 
Edmund  Martene,  "en  fut  prise  a  Marmoutier  au 
chapitre  general  de  1708,  et  comme  j'etois  sur  les  lieux, 
et  qu'on  scavoit  que  Dieu  m'avoit  donne  quelque  petit 


It.  Ital.  4  It.  Alsat.  5  Diar.  It. 


NO.  XIV.]  LITERARY    TRAVELS.  225 

talent  pour  lire  les  anciennes  ecritures,  je  fus  un  des 
premiers  sur  lesquels  on  jetta  les  yeux."  Nothing 
could  be  more  natural,  as  it  respects  the  Chapter; 
and,  perhaps,  as  to  Martene,  though  he  might  sin- 
cerely feel. all  that  he  says  of  the  vastness  of  the 
undertaking,  nothing  more  agreeable.  He  set  out 
accordingly  on  the  11th  of  June,  and  travelled  until 
the  23rd  of  December,  when  he  got  back  into  winter 
quarters  at  Marmoutier,  just  in  time  to  avoid  being 
exposed  to  a  more  inclement  season  than  any  which 
the  oldest  persons  living  could  remember.  Being  in- 
formed that  he  must  set  out  again  as  soon  as  Easter 
was  past,  he  begged  to  have  a  companion.  This 
request  being  granted,  he  chose  Dom  Ursin  Durand, 
and  they  set  out  together  on  the  4th  of  April.  In 
short — for  I  am  not  writing  the  history  of  their  travels 
— that  year,  and  the  four  which  succeeded,  (except  when 
they  were  in  winter  quarters,)  were  spent  in  making 
various  circuits,  in  the  course  of  which  they  visited  a 
great  part  of  France ;  the  whole  time,  from  Martene's 
first  setting  out  to  their  joint  return  on  the  16th  of 
Nov.  1713,  being  five  years  and  a  half;  or,  so  far  as 
travelling  was  practicable,  we  may  perhaps  more  cor- 
rectly say,  six  years.  Martene  tells  us,  that  they 
visited  about  a  hundred  cathedrals,  and  at  least  eight 
hundred  abbeys ;  in  which  they  failed  not  to  examine 
whatever  manuscripts  they  could  find.  In  so  doing, 
they  not  only  fulfilled  their  commission,  as  it  regarded 
the  "  Gallia  Christiana,"  but  met  with  a  vast  quantity 
of  unpublished  matter,  of  various  sorts,  which  they 
gave  to  the  world  in  the  year  1717,  in  five  folio 
volumes,  under  the  title  of  "  Thesaurus  Novus  Anec- 
dotorum ;"  and  it  is  the  work  which  (having  explained 
myself  in  No.  II.  p.  14.  n.)  I  have  since  frequently 
quoted,  under  the  brief  reference  "  Mart."  In  the 
same  year  that  this  large  work  was  brought  out,  Mar- 

Q 


226  LITERARY    TRAVELS.  [NO.  XIV. 

tene  published  an  account  of  these  six  journeys,  in 
one  volume  quarto,  entitled,  "  Voyage  Litteraire  de 
deux  Religieux  Benedictins  de  la  Congregation  de 
Saint  Maur;"  and  it  is  to  this  which  I  now  refer6. 

Having  published  these  collections  of  his  journeys, 
there  was  nothing,  Dom  Martene  tells  us,  which  he 
less  expected  than  to  set  out  again  on  his  travels :  yet 
so  it  was.  A  new  edition  of  the  ancient  historians  of 
France  was  projected ;  and  our  two  travellers  were 
requested  to  go  and  look  for  materials,  to  render  it  as 
full  and  correct  as  possible.  They  accordingly  set  out 
on  the  30th  of  May,  1718,  from  the  neighbourhood  of 
Paris ;  passed  through  Soissons,  Rheims,  Amiens,  Brus- 
sels, Liege,  Aix-la-Chapelle,  Dusseldorf,  and  penetrated 
as  far  into  Germany  as  Paderborn — returned  by  Co- 
logne, Treves,  Luxembourg — and  got  back  in  January 
1719.  By  that  time,  the  scheme  of  publishing  the 
early  historians  had  been  abandoned ;  but  the  travel- 
lers had  accumulated  a  great  quantity  of  curious  mat- 
ter. Their  former  labours,  and  the  published  fruits  of 
them,  had  brought  them  invitations  to  ransack  Ger- 
many and  Spain;  and  though  they  could  not  accept 
them,  yet  literary  contributions  poured  in  from  those 
quarters:  much,  also,  that  Mabillon  had  previously 
collected,  but  not  published,  was  thrown  into  the  com- 
mon stock ;  and  when  the  work  came  forth  in  1 724, 
the  editors  felt  justified  in  calling  the  nine  folio 
volumes,  "  Veterum  Scriptorum  et  Monumentorum 
historicorum,  dogmaticorum,  moralium,  amplissima  col- 
lection It  is  the  work  which  I  have  quoted  by  the 
reference  "  M.  fy  D. ;"  but  at  present,  our  business  is 
with  the  single  quarto  volume  in  which  Martene  gave 
an  account  of  this  journey.     He  published  it  under  the 


I.  Voy.  Lit. 


NO.  XIV.]  DESTRUCTION    OF    MSS.  227 

same  title  as  the  former ;  but,  for  the  sake  of  distinc- 
tion, I  shall  refer  to  it  as  his  second  literary  tour  7. 

From  these  sources,  it  would  be  easy  to  shew  that 
there  are — or,  at  least,  that  there  were,  a  little  more 
than  a  hundred  years  ago,  which  is  quite  sufficient  for 
the  purposes  of  our  inquiry — a  good  many  ancient 
manuscripts  in  existence ;  but  for  that  fact  there  are 
better  proofs;  and  it  is  not  my  present  object  to  prove 
it.  I  quote  these  literary  tourists,  not  to  shew  that 
manuscripts  are  numerous,  but  as  incidentally  furnish- 
ing illustrations  of  the  reasons  why  they  are  so  few, 
and  why  we  may  reasonably  wonder  that  they  are  not 
fewer  still.  It  is  grievous,  for  instance,  to  read  such 
notices  as  those  which  both  Mabillon  and  Martene 
have  given  of  the  state  of  things  at  Clugni.  They 
found  the  old  catalogue  (Mabillon  says  four,  Martene 
five  or  six,  hundred  years  old,)  written  on  boards  three 
feet  and  a  half  long,  and  a  foot  and  a  half  wide,  and 
covered  with  parchment — grandes  tablettes,  qu'on 
ferme  comme  un  livre — but  of  the  books  which  it  con- 
tained, (ex  copiosissimo  illo  numero,)  they  could  find 
scarcelv  one  hundred.  "  On  dit,"  savs  Martene,  that 
the  Huguenots  carried  them  to  Geneva ;  but  be  this  as 
it  may,  they  were  gone  somehow 8.  Such  was  the 
case,  also,  at  Nonantula,  where,  of  all  its  former  riches, 
(ex  multis  quos  celeberrima  olim  ilia  Abbatia  habebat 
veteres  codices,)  Mabillon  found  but  two  manuscripts 9. 
At  Rebais,  Martene  says,  "  II  y  avoit  sans  doute  autre- 
fois beaucoup  de  manuscrits  dans  l'abbaye,  mais  apres 
des  revolutions  si  etranges,  a  peine  y  en  reste-t-il  qucl- 
ques-uns ' ;"  and,  at  the  Abbey  of  Beaupre,  "  II  y  avoit 
autrefois  beaucoup  de  manuscrits;  mais  nous  n'y  en 
viines  que  deux  ou  trois2." 


II.  Voy.  Lit.         *  It.  Burg.  22;  I.  Voy.  Lit.  -227.         ■  It.  Ital.  202. 
'  I.  Voy.  Lit.  P.  ii.  73.  :  lb.  166. 

q2 


228  DESTRUCTION    OF    MSS.  [XO.  XIV. 

But  the  fact  that  the  manuscripts  were  gone  in 
places  which  had  possessed  considerable  collections, 
will  be  sufficiently  proved  incidentally;  and  my  wish 
is  rather  to  call  up  to  the  reader's  mind  those  causes 
which  may  account  for  it,  by  a  brief  and  superficial 
enumeration  of  them. 

I. — I  hardly  know  how  to  arrange  these  causes ;  but, 
as  it  is  of  little  consequence,  I  will  first  advert  to  one 
of  the  most  powerful,  but  one  which,  through  the  dis- 
tinguishing mercy  of  God,  can  hardly  be  appreciated 
among  us.  No  man  has  known  anything  like  war  in 
our  country;  and  even  in  modern  Europe  generally, 
the  mode  of  warfare,  the  circumstances  of  places  taken 
by  siege  or  by  storm,  as  to  their  liability  to  be  burned 
or  utterly  destroyed,  and  the  fact  that  most  books  are 
now  produced  by  hundreds  or  thousands  at  a  time, 
make  so  great  a  difference,  that  we  can  scarcely  insti- 
tute a  comparison.  When,  however,  the  word  war  is 
mentioned,  it  will  readily  occur  to  the  reader,  that 
among  the  desolations  of  fire  and  sword,  manuscripts 
did  not  escape  destruction ;  but  I  wish  to  raise  a  more 
particular  idea  of  the  dangers  to  which  they  were  ex- 
posed, and  the  destruction  which  they  actually  suffered 
from  certain  wars  during  and  since  the  period  with 
which  we  are  engaged. 

Think,  in  the  first  place,  of  the  ravages  of  the  Danes 
and  Normans  in  the  ninth  century ;  accounts  of  their 
cruel  desolations  meet  us  at  every  turn  in  monastic 
history.  It  may  easily  be  conceived,  that  at  all  times, 
— at  least,  all  early  times, — monasteries  and  churches 
were  likely  to  form  a  nucleus,  both  from  their  being 
the  places  most  likely  to  contain  spoil,  and  from  their 
being  (next  to  those  which  were  regularly  fortified)  the 
places  of  greatest  strength.  Hence  they  became  pecu- 
liarly obnoxious  to  destruction,  and  particularly  to 
destruction  by  fire.     As  to  the  desolation  of  monas- 


NO.  XIV.]  BY    WAR.  229 

teries  by  these  barbarians,  however,  the  shortest  way 
to  give  some  idea  of  them  would  be  to  copy  the  article 
"  Normanni,"  in  the  index  of  the  third  volume  of 
Mabillon's  Annals,  in  which  he  gives  a  list  of  the 
monasteries  of  his  own  order  which  were  pillaged  ol- 
dest roved.  Even  that,  however,  would  be  too  long  to 
insert  here  ;  but  it  begins,  "  Normanni,  monasteria  ab 
eis  incensa,  eversa,  direpta,  — ;  Amausense,  — ;  Aru- 
lense,  — ;  Arvernense  S.  Illidii,  — ;  Autissiodorense 
sancti  Germani,  — ;  Bardeneiense,  — ,"  &c. ;  and  so  he 
goes  on  through  the  alphabet,  naming  between  seventy 
and  eighty  Benedictine  monasteries.  It  is  impossible 
to  doubt,  and,  indeed,  in  some  cases  it  may  be  proved, 
that  there  was  a  great  loss  of  books.  When,  for  in- 
stance, the  Abbey  of  Peterborough,  in  Northampton- 
shire, was  burned  by  the  Danes  in  the  year  870,  there 
was  a  large  collection  of  books  destroyed — sanctorum 
librorum  ingens  bibliotheca  3.  The  language  of  Ingulph 
may  provoke  a  smile  ;  and  I  assure  the  reader  that  I  do 
not  want  to  make  mountains  of  mole-hills,  or  to  catch  at 
a  word  in  any  writer  of  the  dark  ages.  But  I  cannot 
consent  to  sneer  away  the  statement  to  nothing ;  and 
the  rather  because  though  it  may  not  be  easy  to  say 
what  the  abbot's  idea  of  an  "  ingens  bibliotheca  "  was, 
yet,  as  will  presently  appear,  he  uses  no  such  expression 
in  speaking  of  the  library  of  seven  hundred  volumes 
belonging  to  his  own  monastery  which  was  burned  in 
his  own  time — that  is,  in  a.d.  1091. 

Again,  "  when  the  black  swarm  of  Hungarians  first 
bung  over  Europe,  about  nine  hundred  years  after  the 
Christian  sera,  they  were  mistaken  by  fear  and  supersti- 
tion for  the  Gog  and  Magog  of  the  Scriptures, — the 
signs  and  forerunners  of  the  end  of  the  world  V  There 

3  Ing.  ap.  Gale.  V.  Scr.  p.  23. 

*  As  it  is  a  principal  part  of  my  design  to  draw  attention  to  the  mis- 
representations of  popular  writers,  I  cannot  help  offering  a  remark  or  two 


230  DESTRUCTION    OF    MSS.  [NO.  XIV. 

would  be  no  use  in  detailing  such  particulars  as  are 
handed  down  to  us ;  it  is  always  the  same  horrid  tale 


on  the  note  which  Gibbon  adds  to  his  words  which  I  here  quote  (Dec.  and 
Fall,  vol.  v.  p.  548) : — "  A  bishop  of  Wurtzburg  submitted  this  opinion  to 
a  reverend  abbot ;  but  he  more  gravely  decided,  that  Gog  and  Magog  were 
the  spiritual  persecutors  of  the  church ;  since  Gog  signifies  the  roof,  the 
pride  of  the  Heresiarchs,  and  Magog  what  comes  from  the  roof,  the  pro- 
pagation of  their  sects.     Yet  these  men  once  commanded  the  respect  of 
mankind.     Fleury,  Hist.  Eccles.  torn.  xi.  p.  594,  &c."     I  do  not  know 
why  Gibbon  says  "  a  bishop  of  Wurtzburg,"  when  his  authority  Fleury 
and   D'Achery   (Fleury's  only  authority)   say   Verdun;    nor  do  I  know 
how  he  learned  that  "these  men"  ever  commanded  the  respect  of  man- 
kind, for  it  seems  as  if  there  was  some  doubt  who  the  bishop  was — and 
as  to  the  "  reverend  abbot,"  I  believe  no  one  pretends  to  guess  who  he  was, 
or  of  what  country.    Could  it  be  shewn,  therefore,  that  these  two  persons, 
whoever  they  might  be,  held  a  foolish  opinion  on  a  very  obscure  point, 
and  maintained  it  by  mere  nonsense,  yet  that  would  not  go  far  towards 
shewing  that  the  respect  of  mankind  in  the  tenth  century  was  misplaced, 
in  so  far  as  it  was  given  to  bishops  and  abbots.     The  document  exists, 
however,  merely  as  "  Epistola  cujusdam  Abbatis  Monasterii  S.  Germani 
ad  V.  Episcopum  Virdunensem  de  Hungris."     Neither  the  bishop  nor  the 
abbot  seem  to  have  given  any  credit  to  the  notion  of  the  Hungarians  being 
Gog  and  Magog.      In  writing  to  the  abbot,   the  bishop  appears  (for  I 
believe  his  letter  is  not  extant,  and  is  only  known  by  the  answer)  to  have 
mentioned  that  the  idea  was  current  in  his  diocese,  and  to  have  desired 
him  to  look  at  the  prophecy  of  Ezekiel,  and  let  him  know  what  he  sup- 
posed to  be  its  meaning.     That  the  bishop  did  not  express  or  imply  any 
belief  in  the  opinion,  may  be  presumed  from  the  terms  in  which  the  abbot 
(after  saying  that  it  was  current  in  his  part  of  the  world  also)  sets  it 
down  as  mere  nonsense — frivolam  esse  et  nihil  verum  habere — contrasted 
with  the  language  of  deep  respect  and  affection  in  which  he  addresses  the 
bishop.     But  farther — the  sarcasm  can  scarcely  be  said  to  touch  either  of 
the  parties ;  for  the  abbot  gives  the  notion  about  Gog  and  Magog  being 
the  roof,  and  the  heretics,  &c.  as  the  exposition  of  Jerome,  without  the 
expression  of  any  opinion  as  to  its  correctness;  unless  indeed  we  may 
find  something  like  apology  in  the  language  of  the  single  sentence  of  com- 
ment which  he  bestows  on  it — "  quae  quia  a  B.  Hieronymo  exposita  sunt, 
et  brevitas  epistolae  plura  de  his  dicere  non  permittit."     He  then  goes  on 
to  inquire  who  the  Hungarians  really  were,  whence  they  came,  and  how  it 
happened  that  they  had  not  been  mentioned  in  history,  considering  the 
extent  of  the  Roman  conquests  and  researches — had  they  been  known 
under  some  other  name  ?  "  sicut  solent  mutari  urbium  vel  locorum  seu 
fluminum  nomina.     Nam  Tiberis  quondam  Albula  dicebatur.     Unde  Vir- 
gilius  ■  amisit  priscum  Albula  nomen;'  et  Italia  prius  Saturnia  dicebatur; 
sicut  idem  poeta,  '  et  nomen  posuit  Saturnia  tellus,' "  &c.     The  letter,  on 
the  whole,  is  such  as  that  I  cannot  but  hope  that  the  writer  did  command 


NO.  XIV.]  BY    WAR.  231 

of  barbarous  outrage  and  destruction.  I  will  here  only 
refer  to  one  case,  partly  out  of  respect  to  our  friend 
the  Abbot  Bonus,  who  was  brought  up  there,  though  it 
was  before  his  time,  in  the  days  of  Abbot  Leopard,  who 
presided  there  from  the  year  899  to  912  ;  and  princi- 
pally because,  as  I  have  just  said,  Mabillon  found  only 
two  manuscripts  at  Nonantula 5.  In  the  first  or  third 
year  of  Abbot  Leopard,  after  a  great  battle  on  the  river 
Brenta,  in  which  many  thousands  of  Christians  were 
slain,  the  pagans  advanced  to  Nonantula,  killed  the 
monks,  burned  the  monastery,  with  many  books 
(codices  multos  concremavere),  and  ravaged  the  whole 
place. 

I  pass  over  the  irruption  of  the  Saracens  into  Italy  ; 
but,  though  it  is  lamentable  to  carry  on  the  history  of 
desolation  as  the  work  of  Christians,  yet  truth  requires 
me  to  notice  what  may  be  called  religious,  or,  more 
properly  and  emphatically,  irreligious,  wars.  Happily 
the  books  which  I  have  mentioned  as  furnishing  illus- 
trations relate  chiefly  to  France,  and  we  will  not  at 
present  look  elsewhere.  The  Dean  and  Chapter  of 
St.  Theudere,  near  Vienne,  says  Martene,  "nous  com- 
blerent  d'honnetete,  et  nous  communiquirent,  de  la 
meilleure  grace  du  monde,  ce  qui  leur  reste  d'anciens 
monumens  de  la  fureur  des  heretiques.  Car  ces  impies 
brulerent  en  1562.  toutes  les  chartes6."  "Nous 
fumes  de  la  a  Tarbe,  ou  nous  ne  trouvames  pas  grand 
travail,  l'eglise  cathedral e  et  tous  les  titres  ayant  ete 


the  respect  of  his  age.  Whether  the  wretched  infidel  who  thought  fit  to 
sneer  at  him  will  command  the  respect  of  those  who  take  the  trouble  to 
look  out  his  authorities,  they  who  see  such  a  specimen  as  this  may  fairly 
question.  Fleury  refers  to  Dae.  Spic.  xii.  349;  in  the  folio  edition  it  is  at 
torn.  hi.  368. 

5  Of  course  I  do  not  mean  that  they  had  none  in  the  meantime.  I  hope 
under  another  head  to  shew  that  they  had  many,  of  whose  fate  fire  and 
sword  were  guiltless. 

6  I.  Voy.  Lit.  252. 


232  DESTRUCTION    OF    MSS.  [NO.  XIV. 

brule  par  les  Calvinistes,  qui,  dans  toute  le  Beam  et 
dans  la  Bigorre,  ont  laisse  de  funestes  marques  de  leur 
fureur 7." — "  Pour  Fabbaye  de  St.  Jean  [at  Thoiiars], 
elle  est  beaucoup  plus  ancienne,  mais  les  ravages  qu'y 
ont  fait  les  Calvinistes  le  siecle  passe,  en  ont  dissipe  la 
plupart  des  monumens  8."  Grimberg  I  must  reserve 
for  another  purpose,  and  here  only  mention  that  it  had 
been  destroyed  and  its  library  burned  by  the  Hugue- 
nots ;  and  as  I  do  not  wish  to  repeat  the  same  cases, 
even  for  the  illustration  of  different  points,  I  here  only 
mention  the  neighbouring  monastery  of  Dilighen,  of 
which  Martene  says — "  Cette  abbaye  a  eprouve  le 
meme  sort  que  celle  de  Grimberg.  C'est  a  dire,  qu'elle 
a  ete  rui'nee  par  les  heretiques.  Aujourd'hui  on  la 
retablit,  et  on  lui  a  redonne  son  premier  lustre ;"  ex- 
cept, of  course,  in  one  respect,  for  he  adds,  "  L'eglise 

est  fort  jolie la  bibliotheque  assez  bonne,  mais  il 

n'y  a  que  tres-peu  de  manuscrits  qui  ne  sont  pas  de  con- 
sequence 9."  At  another  monastery,  (near  Ferte  sous 
Jouarre,   not  far  from  Meaux,)  Ruinart  says,   "  Spera- 

bamus  nos  ibi  in  archiviis  aliquid  forte  reperturos 

at  monasterii  chartas  a  Calvinianis  penitus  combustas 

fuisse  nobis  responsum supersunt  in  bibliotheca 

aliquot  codices  manuscript! ;"  and,  after  specifying  a 
good  many  works,  he  adds,  "quae  non  sunt  magni 
momenti  V  Much  the  same  injury  had  been  suffered 
at  the  monastery  of  Fleury,  where  Mabillon  found  but 
a  few  relics  of  the  vast  collection  which  had  been 
destroyed  in  the  religious  wars  of  the  preceding  cen- 
tury 2.  The  effects  of  war  were,  indeed,  too  frequently 
visible ;  but  not  to  tire  the  reader  with  repetition, — 
yet  without  repetition  how  can  I  impress  on  him  the 

7  I.  Voy.  Lit.  P.  ii.  p.  13.     8  lb.  p.  5.    9 II.  Voy.  Lit.  112.   *  It.  Alsat.  415. 

2  "  Penes  quos  quidam  adhuc  reliqui  sunt  ex  innumera  ilia  veterum 
librorum  copia,  qua?  superiori  saeculo,  furente  ha?resi,  direpta  est."  It. 
Burg.  30. 


NO.  XIV.]  BY    FIRE.  233 

extent  of  the  mischief? — some  other  notices  of  the 
destruction  produced  by  what  may  be  termed  general 
or  common  warfare  shall  be  thrown  into  a  note,  and  I 
will  proceed  to  speak  of  another  cause  of  destruction  3. 
II.  I  need  not  insist  on  the  liability  of  manuscripts 
to  be  destroyed  by  accidental  fire,  especially  at  a  time 
when  so  many  were  kept  in  wooden  buildings.  Our 
travellers,  however,  continually,  furnish  us  with  such 
notices  as  these,  most  of  which  are  quite  modern.  At 
Rheims,  "  L'eglise  cathedral  e  et  Farcheveche  ayant  ete 
brulez  dans  le  douzieme  siecle,  toutes  les  archives  furent 
pour  lors  consumees  par  le  feu 4." — At  Gemblouw,  "  Nous 
passames  la  matinee  a  voir  ce  qui  restoit  de  manuscrits 
de  l'incendie  generale  du  monastere  V — At  the  monas- 
tery of  the  Jacobins  at  Liege,  "  II  y  avoit  autrefois  une 
assez  bonne  bibliotheque ;  mais  il  y  a  quelques  annees 
que  tous  les  manuscrits  perirent  dans  un  incendie,  qui 
consuma  entierement  le  monastere 6." — At  Lucelle, 
"L'incendie  qui  consuma  tout  le  monastere  en  1699 
nous  priva  du  plaisir  d'y  voir  une  tres-riche  bibliotheque 

3  Take  the  following  instances— Of  the  abbey  of  Brunwillers,  Martene 
says,  "  Corame  le  monastere  a  beaucoup  souffert  par  les  guerres,  et  qu'il  a 
ete  sujet  comme  les  autres  aux  revolutions,  on  ne  doit  pas  etre  surpris 
s'il  n'y  a  plus  qu'un  manuscrit  des  lettres  de  Ciceron."  (II.  Voy.  Lit.  269.) 
"  Le  Roi  Louis  XIV.  ayant  soiimis  Luxembourg  a  la  force  invincible  de  ses 
armes,  l'abbaye  de  Munster  eprouva  une  seconde  fois  le  sort  de  la  guerre, 

et  fut  entierement  rasee apres  tant  de  revolutions  on  ne  pouvoitpas 

s'attendre  a  faire  des  decouvertes  dans  la  bibliotheque.  En  effet,  nous  n'y 
avons  trouve  que  cinq  ou  six  manuscrits."  (II.  Voy.  Lit.  302.)  St.  Arnoul 

at  Metz,  "  Cette  abbaye fut  entierement  rasee  avec  celles  de  Saint 

Clement,  de  Saint  Symphorien,  de  Saint  Pierre,  et  de  Sainte  Marie,  au  siege 
de  Mets  forme  par  l'empereur  Charles-quint."  (I.  Voy.  Lit.  P.  ii.  112.)  At 
Othmersheim,  "  Cette  abbaye,  etant  exposee  au  theatre  de  la  guerre,  a  perdu 
ses  anciens  monumens,  et  nous  n'y  trouvames  rien  qui  dut  nous  arreter." 
(I.  Voy.  Lit.  P.  ii.  143.)  La  Chartreuse,  by  Liege,  "  II  y  avoit  autrefois 
beaucoup  de  manuscrits  ;  mais  le  monastere  ayant  este  entierement  reduit 
en  cendres  dans  les  dernieres  guerres,  ils  ont  tous  este  consumez  dans  les 
flammes.  II  n'y  a  que  les  sermons  de  Jacques  de  Vitry,  en  quatre  ou  cinq 
volumes,  qui  ayent  echappe  a  l'incendie."  (II.  Voy.  Lit.  183.) 

4  I.  Voy.  Lit.  P.  ii.  79.        MI.  Voy.  Lit.  117-        "II.  Voy.  Lit.  182. 


234  DESTRUCTION    OF    MSS.  [NO.  XIV. 

en  manuscrits,  que  les  flammes  ont  reduit  en  cendre, 
avec  le  religieux  qui  y  etoit  entre  pour  tacher  de  les 
sauver  7." — "  Ce  que  nous  venons  de  rapporter  nous  fait 
voir  que  les  six  incendies  qui  sont  arrivees  a  S.  Wast, 
n'ont  pas  tout  consume,  et  nous  font  aisement  juger 
des  tresors  immenses  que  nous  y  trouverions,  si  nous 
avions  tout  ce  que  les  flammes  nous  ont  ravi 8." — 
The  abbey  of  Loroy,  "  Qui  ayant  ete  entierement  brulee 
il  y  a  environ  quarante  ans,  n'a  conserve  aucun  de  ses 
anciens  monumens 9." 

I  do  not  wish  to  be  tedious  on  this  point,  but  I  am 
irresistibly  tempted,  first  of  all,  just  to  allude  to  the 
conflagration  of  the  monastery  of  Teano,  near  Monte 
Casino,  which  was  burned,  as  Leo  Marsicanus  says, 
"  cum  omnibus  operibus  suis,"  in  the  year  892,  because 
among  those  "  opera  "  it  is  said  that  the  original  copy  of 
the  Rule  of  St.  Benedict  perished1,  and  then  to  give 
one  or  two  anecdotes  respecting  what  may  be  called 
accidental  burning  of  monasteries,  as  contra-distin- 
guished from  those  conflagrations  which  took  place  in 
the  wars.  I  give  them  not  as  proofs  that  such  things 
happened,  for  that  is  naturally  to  be  supposed,  and  is 
sufficiently  attested  by  history,  but  as  stories  illustra- 
tive both  of  one  particular  point  and  of  our  general 
subject. 

Thieto,  who  was  Abbot  of  St.  Gall's,  in  the  year  937, 
was  a  strict  disciplinarian ;  and  this  was  very  sensibly 
felt,  not  only  by  the  monks,  but  by  the  school-boys. 
St.  Mark's  day  being  a  holiday,  some  of  the  latter  had 
got  into  mischief  (qusedam  errata  commiserant)  which 
the  monitors  (censores  scholarum  quos  circatores  voca- 
bant)  reported  to  the  masters.  Sentence  having  been 
passed  on  the  guilty,  one  of  them  was  sent  to  the  upper 


7  I.  Voy.  Lit.  P.  ii   141.  8  II.  Voy.  Lit.  65.  °  I.  Voy.  Lit.  36 

1  Mab.  Ann.  torn.  iii.  p.  263. 


NO.  XIV.]  BY    FIRE.  235 

part  of  the  building  to  fetch  rods.  By  way  of  antici- 
patory revenge  for  his  flogging,  or  as  a  desperate  re- 
source to  avoid  one,  the  boy  took  a  brand  from  a  fire 
and  placed  it  under  the  dry  wood  which  was  next  to 
the  roof.  This  quickly  took  fire,  and  the  flames,  driven 
by  the  wind,  soon  seized  the  tower  of  the  church.  The 
monastery  was  almost  entirely  burned,  and  many  books 
were  lost  (multi  libri  amissi)  though  they  were  in  time 
to  save  the  church  bells  and  furniture.  The  writer 
who  relates  the  story,  adds,  "  that  from  this  mischief, 
the  monks  of  St.  Gall  took  a  great  dislike  to  the 
scholars,  and  some  thought  that  the  school  ought  to  be 
entirely  given  up,  but  he  suggests  that  the  loss  which 
the  monastery  sustained  by  this  occurrence  was  more 
than  counterbalanced  by  the  credit  which  it  had  gained 
through  the  scholars  whom  it  had  sent  forth 2." 

If  it  had  not  happened  in  the  same  year,  I  should 
not  have  mentioned  the  burning  of  the  famous  monas- 
tery of  Fulda,  because  I  do  not  know  how  it  happened, 
and  cannot  prove  that  the  library  was  burned  ;  and 
where  there  are  cases  enough  of  positive  evidence,  it  is 
not  in  general  worth  while  to  notice  that  which  is 
merely  presumptive,  however  strong  it  may  be  ;  and  of 
this  monastery  and  its  library  I  hope  to  find  a  fitter 
occasion  to  speak. 

"  Towards  the  evening  of  that  day,"  says  the  histo- 
rian of  the  monastery  of  Lawresheim  or  Lorsch,  (a  few 
miles  east  of  Worms)  speaking  of  the  21st  of  March,  in 
the  year  1090,  "after  that,  following  the  example  of 
the  carnal  Israel,  the  people  had  sat  down  to  eat  and 
to  drink,  and  risen  up  to  play,  it  happened  that, 
among  other  games,  a  disc,  set  on  fire  at  the  edge  in 
the  usual  way,  was  whirled  in  the  air  by  a  soldier  3. 


2  Mab.  iii.  Ann.  407. 

3  Inter  caetera  ludorum  exercitia  discus  in  extrema  marginis  ora   (ut 


236  LOSS   OF   MSS.  [no.  XIV. 

Being  driven  round  with  great  force,  and  presenting 
the  appearance  of  a  circle  of  fire,  it  forms  a  spectacle 
which  pleases,  not  only  the  eye  by  its  appearance,  but 
as  an  exhibition  of  strength.  This  being  whirled  by 
some  one  who  did  not  keep  sufficiently  fast  hold,  it 
flew,  by  his  unintentional  cast,  on  the  top  of  the 
church.  Sticking  fast  there,  between  the  wooden  tiles 
and  the  old  beams,  it  set  fire  to  the  place.  What  need 
of  many  words  ?  In  the  first  place,  the  flame  seized 
on  the  tower,  which  was  made  with  admirable  wood- 
work 4,  and  in  which  were  the  bells,  and  their  ropes 
being  burned  they  could  not  be  used  to  give  the  alarm. 
It  then  seized  all  the  upper  part  of  the  building,  the 
towers,  and  the  porches.  At  length  the  dropping  of 
the  melted  lead,  with  which  all  the  roof  was  covered, 
rendered  it  utterly  impossible  to  go  in  or  get  anything 
out.  Then  was  the  face  of  things  miserable — so  many 
excellent  buildings,  of  the  church  as  well  as  of  the 
whole  monastery — so  many  fine  ornaments  devoured 
by  the  sudden  ravages  of  the  flames,  a  few  only  saved 
with  great  exertion  and  risk,  either  snatched  with  the 
hand  or  broken  away  with  the  axe  or  hatchet  from  the 
very  midst  of  the  fire  5." 

I  hope  to  give  the  reader  another  story  somewhat 


solet)  accensus,  militari  manu  per  aera  vibrabatur;  qui  acriori  impulsu 
circumactus,  orbicularem  flammae  speciem  reddens,  tam  ostentui  virium 
quam  oculis  mirantium,  spectaculi  gratiam  exhibet."  I  do  not  quite 
understand  this,  but  I  suppose  it  must  have  been  some  kind  of  circular 
wheel  or  circular  frame,  whirled  by  a  strong  arm,  and  presenting  some 
such  appearance  as  a  Catherine  wheel. 

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

1  Chron.  Laur.  ap.  Freher.  p.  81.  Edit.  1C00. 


NO.  XIV.]  BY    FIRE.  237 

similar,  and  more  graphic ;  but,  though  I  am  not 
apprehensive  of  his  thinking  it  tedious,  it  would  extend 
this  paper  to  an  unreasonable  length;  and  therefore, 
in  the  meantime,  and  before  I  proceed  to  speak  of 
some  other  causes,  I  take  the  opportunity  of  briefly 
adverting  to  a  point  which  cannot  be  fairly  passed  over. 
It  is  somewhat  anticipating  to  say  so,  but  the  fact  is, 
that  there  are  so  many  manuscripts  of  some  sorts  in 
existence,  that  it  has  been  very  warmly  contended  by 
some  learned  men  that  a  great  part  at  least  must  be 
forgeries,  because  it  is  impossible  that  so  many  should 
have  survived  the  perils  to  which  such  things  have 
been  exposed.  On  such  an  occasion  as  this,  I  must 
only  just  glance  at  what  have  been  called  the  bell  a 
diplomatic*!,  and  my  sole  reason  for  referring  to  them 
at  present  is,  to  shew  that  those  causes  of  destruction 
which  I  have  already  specified  have  been  considered 
by  learned  men  as  sufficient  to  account  for  (indeed,  I 
may  say,  to  require)  a  greater  scarcity  of  manuscripts 
than  exactly  exists.  "  They  say,"  says  Ludewig,  "  that 
since  all  the  kingdoms  of  Europe  have  carried  on  so 
many  wars,  and  Germany  in  particular  has  been  sub- 
ject to  such  intestine  commotion,  no  doubt  all  ancient 
documents  have  thereby  perished,  which  led  to  the 
forging  of  new  and  supposititious  ones.  But,  as  no- 
body doubts  respecting  the  destruction  of  manuscripts 
through  these  causes,  so  there  were  also  reasons 
why  they  might  escape.  For  soldiers,  intent  on  gold 
and  silver,  and  other  things  which  they  could  turn  to 
account,  were,  as  they  are  now,  careless  about  writings, 
especially  considering  the  ignorance  and  contempt  of 
letters  which  then  prevailed  among  them.  To  this  wo 
may  add,  that  even  amidst  the  outrages  of  war,  the 
soldiers  were  restrained  by  superstition  from  laying 
hands  on  the  literary  treasures  of  the  bishopric-.  He 
goes  on  afterwards  to  speak  of  fire,  and  represent-  his 


238  LOSS    OF    MSS.    BY    FIRE.  [NO.  XIV. 

opponents  as  saying  that  there  is  scarcely  to  be  found 
a  city,  a  monastery,  or  a  habitation  of  any  confraternity 
of  any  kind  which  has  not  been  more  than  once  the 
subject  of  a  conflagration,  in  which  all  its  documents 
have  perished.  "  This,  also,"  he  replies,  "is  most  true; 
for  my  own  part,  I  declare  that  I  have  never  been  in 
any  archives  in  Germany,  though  I  have  visited  them 
without  number,  where  the  keepers  have  not  attributed 
their  deficiencies  to  fires  which  had  destroyed  those 
very  documents  which  were  most  important.  [He 
adds  in  a  note,  "  The  keeper  at  Mayence  told  the  same 
story  in  1705.  When  I  inquired  for  their  documents 
of  earlier  date  than  the  period  of  Frederic  I.,  he  an- 
swered, 'that  they  had  all  perished  when  the  castle 
and  the  court,  which  were  of  wood,  were  burned.'"] 
But,"  he  goes  on  to  say,  "  even  in  the  most  tremend- 
ous fires,  the  first  care  is  commonly  to  preserve  the 
public  archives  from  destruction ;  nor  do  I  hesitate  to 
commend  the  prudence  of  the  celebrated  Maskowsky, 
Chancellor  of  Darmstadt,  who,  when  the  castle  and 
principal  palace  were  on  fire,  proposed  and  paid  a 
reward  to  those  who,  at  the  risque  of  their  lives,  went 
into  the  lowest  story,  which  was  well  arched,  and 
brought  the  written  documents  out  of  the  archives, 
which  were  thus  saved  like  brands  plucked  from  the 
burning.  The  same  thing  we  may  reasonably  suppose 
to  have  been  done  in  older  times  by  prudent 
keepers  6." 

I  did  not  like  to  pass  over  this  point  without  some 
notice ;  but  the  reader  will  at  once  perceive  that  there 
is  an  important  difference  between  the  case  of  which 
I  am  speaking  and  that  to  which  Ludewig  refers. 
Indeed,  so  far  as  our  subject  is  concerned,  I  really  have 
the  suffrage  of  both  parties  in  this  diplomatic  war  in 


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


NO.  XV.]  ST.    GUTHLAC.  239 

my  favour.  Those  who  contend  that  wars  and  fires 
must  have  destroyed  the  diplomas,  charters,  deeds,  and 
other  comparatively  small  and  portable  manuscripts  of 
the  dark  ages,  will  readily  grant  that  books  were  not 
likely  to  escape ;  and  those  who  reply,  as  Ludewig 
justly  does,  that  such  documents  would  be  kept  with 
peculiar  care,  and  saved  first,  and  at  all  hazards,  in  case 
of  danger,  would  not  think  of  extending  their  argument 
to  such  manuscripts  as  we  are  concerned  with. 


No.  XV. 


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

Somewhat  more  than  eleven  hundred  years  ago,  a 
young  man  of  noble  family  quitted  the  military  service, 
and  entered  a  monastery.  By  the  time  that  he  had 
been  a  monk  two  years  he  had  become  acquainted  with 
the  lives  of  the  early  ascetics;  and,  like  many  other 
monks,  at  various  times,  and  especially  in  the  earlier 
centuries  of  monasticism,  he  resolved  to  imitate  them. 
Having  discovered  a  wretched  and  solitary  place,  suited 
to  his  design,  among  the  fens  of  Lincolnshire,  Guthlac, 
commending  himself  to  the  special  patronage  of  St. 
Bartholomew,  for  whom  he  had  peculiar  respect,  took 
up  his  abode  there  on  the  festival  of  that  saint,  in  the 
year  699.  Some  years  afterwards,  Ethelbald,  then  an 
exile  and  a  wanderer,  came  to  the  hermit,  with  whom 
he  was  wont  to  consult,  and  whom  he  called  his  father 
confessor,  for  advice  in  his  distress, — ut  ubi  consilium 
defecit  humanum,  divinum  acquireret, — and  received 
from  his  lips  a  prediction  that  he  should  come  to  the 
throne  of  Mercia  without  battle  or  bloodshed.      Kthel- 


240  FOUNDATION    OF  [NO.  XV. 

bald  declared  that,  in  that  case,  he  would  found  a 
monastery  on  the  spot  to  the  praise  of  God,  and  in 
remembrance  of  his  father  Guthlac;  and  when  the 
prediction  was  fulfilled,  in  a.d.  716,  he  lost  no  time  in 
performing  his  promise.  Instead  of  the  wooden  oratory 
of  the  ascetic,  he  built  a  stone  church,  and  founded  a 
monastery,  which  he  endowed  with  the  whole  island  of 
Croyland,  on  which  it  stood,  by  a  charter,  which  begins 
thus: — 

"  Ethelbald,  by  divine  dispensation  King  of  the  Mercians, 
to  all  that  hold  the  catholic  faith,  everlasting  salvation.  I 
give  thanks,  with  great  exultation,  to  the  King  of  all  kings, 
and  Creator  of  all  things,  who  has  hitherto  with  long-suffering 
sustained  me  while  involved  in  all  crimes,  has  drawn  me  with 
mercy,  and  raised  me  up  in  some  degree  to  the  confession  of 
his  name.  Wherefore  it  is  good  for  me  to  cleave  unto  God, 
and  to  put  my  trust  in  Him.  But  what  shall  I  render  unto 
the  Lord,  for  all  things  which  He  has  given  unto  me,  so  that 
I  may  be  pleasing  before  Him  in  the  light  of  the  living; 
since  without  Him  we  have  nothing,  we  are  nothing,  and  we 
can  do  nothing ;  For  the  Author  of  our  salvation,  and  Giver 
of  all  things,  accepts  with  great  desire  our  things  which 
are  least,  that  He  may  have  a  cause  of  returning  those  which 
are  greatest,  and  joys  that  are  infinite.  Those  who  follow 
his  teaching  by  works  of  mercy,  He  comforts,  saying,  '  What 
ye  have  done  unto  one  of  the  least  of  mine,  ye  have  done  unto 
me.1  Hence  it  is,  that  when  I  had  been  instructed  by  the 
advice,  and  urged  by  the  prayers,  of  my  beloved  confessor 
Guthlac,  the  devout  anchorite,  I  cheerfully  acquiesced,"  &c. 

Kenulph,  a  monk  of  Evesham,  was  appointed  the 
first  abbot.  Pega,  the  sister  of  Guthlac,  who  had  long 
resided  as  a  solitary  some  miles  from  her  brother,  hav- 
ing brought  to  the  monastery  his  psalter,  the  scourge 
of  St.  Bartholomew,  and  some  other  relics,  went  back 
to  her  own  cell,  where  she  remained  two  years  and 
three  months;  after  which  she  went  to  Rome,  where 
she  spent  the  rest  of  her  life.     Bettelmus,  Tatwin,  and 


NO.  XV.]  CROYLAND    ABBEY.  241 

two  other  ascetics,  who  lived  in  cells  by  the  hermitage 
of  Guthlac,  for  the  sake  of  his  neighbourhood  and 
instruction,  were  permitted  by  the  abbot  to  remain  in 
statu  quo. 

As  I  am  not  writing  history,  and  am  bound  by  no 
unities,  let  us  skip  over  rather  more  than  a  century, 
and  we  shall  find  this  monastery,  founded  by  the  piety 
of  a  Saxon  king,  become  the  sanctuary  of  more  than 
one  of  the  royal  race  of  Mercia.  Etheldritha,  daughter 
of  Offa,  the  betrothed  of  Ethelbert,  king  of  the  East 
Angles,  (who  was  treacherously  murdered  by  her 
father,)  had  retired  to  a  cell  in  the  southern  part  of 
the  church  of  Croyland.  Thus  she  was  enabled,  more 
than  thirty  years  after  her  sad  betrothal,  to  offer  a 
sanctuary  to  a  successor  of  her  father,  Wichtlaf,  king 
of  Mercia,  when  he  fled  from  Egbert,  king  of  Wessex, 
in  the  year  827.  The  Abbot  Si  ward,  who  was  the 
only  other  person  privy  to  his  retreat,  negotiated  for 
his  safety  and  restoration  as  a  tributary  to  Egbert; 
and  the  grateful,  though  humbled  monarch,  never  for- 
got the  benefit.  Six  years  afterwards  he  gave  a 
charter,  which  begins  thus ; — 

"  Wichtlaf,  by  divine  dispensation  King  of  the  Mercians, 
to  all  the  worshippers  of  Christ  inhabiting  all  Mercia,  ever- 
lasting salvation.  Far  from  feeling  it  any  disgrace,  I  esteem 
it  to  be  honourable  and  glorious,  to  publish  and  set  forth  the 
wonderful  works  of  God.  Wherefore,  I  will  openly  confess 
unto  the  Lord,  who  dwelleth  on  high,  but  hath  respect  unto 
the  lowly  in  heaven  and  on  earth,  because  for  a  time  He  was 
angry  with  me ;  but  his  anger  is  turned  away,  and  He  hatli 
comforted  me.  In  his  anger,  humbling  the  sinner  unto  the 
ground,  bringing  him  down  even  unto  the  dust ;  and  again, 
in  his  mercy,  raising  the  needy  from  the  dust,  and  lifting  up 
the  poor  from  the  dunghill,  that  I  may  sit  with  princes,  and 
possess  the  throne  of  glory.  In  the  day  of  goo  1  things, 
then,  let  me  not  be  unmindful  of  the  evil  things.  c  I  will 
make  mention  of  Rahab  and   Babylon,   to   them  that  know 

R 


242  CROYLAND    ABBEY  [NO.  XV. 

me,1  not  Rahab  the  harlot,  but  the  most  holy  virgin,  my 
kinswoman,  Etheldritha,  a  recluse  at  Croyland  for  the  love 
of  her  spouse,  the  Lamb  without  spot ;  who,  in  the  time  of 
my  trouble,  most  carefully  hid  me  in  her  cell,  by  the  space 
of  four  months,  from  the  face  of  the  enemy  and  the  persecu- 
tor. I  will  make  mention  also  of  Babylon ;  not  of  the  tower 
of  confusion,  but  of  the  most  holy  church  of  Croyland,  which 
is  a  tower  reaching  to  heaven, — with  watchings  and  prayers, 
psalms  and  lessons,  disciplines  and  penances,  tears  and  sobs, 
alms,  and  innumerable  other  acts  of  devotion  and  works  of 
piety,  offering  most  powerful  violence  to  the  kingdom  of 
heaven  on  behalf  of  a  sinful  world1.  Therefore,  since  the 
venerable  father,  the  Lord  Siward,  abbot  of  Croyland,  hath 
protected  me  in  his  tabernacle  in  the  evil  day,  hiding  and 
saving  me  from  the  face  of  him  that  troubled  me,  beside  the 
privileges  of  my  predecessors,  kings  of  Mercia,  who  have 
amply  enriched  the  aforesaid  monastery  with  various  gifts 
and  immunities,  I  also  offer  to  the  great  altar  of  the  said 
monastery,  out  of  my  poverty,  a  golden  chalice,  a  golden 
cross,  and  a  table  out  of  my  own  chapel  covered  with  plates 
of  gold,  professing  that  I  will  constantly  defend  the  said 
church  to  the  best  of  my  power." 

Then,  after  other  matter — 

"  I  also  offer  to  the  sacrist  of  the  said  monastery,  for  the 
service  of  the  most  holy  altar,  the  scarlet  robe  with  which  I 
was  invested  at  my  coronation,  to  make  a  hood  or  chasuble ; 
and  for  the  ornament  of  the  most  holy  church,  my  golden 
curtain  on  which  is  wrought  the  taking  of  Troy,  to  be  hung 
on  the  walls  on  my  anniversary,  if  they  shall  see  fit.  I  also 
offer  to  the  refectory  of  the  said  monastery,  for  the  use  of  the 
president  every  day  in  the  refectory,  my  gilded  cup  which  is 
chased  over  all  the  outside  with  savage  vine-dressers  fighting 


1  The  reader  will,  I  trust,  understand  that  I  give  this  introduction,  and 
some  other  things  of  the  same  sort,  not  for  the  taste  with  which  Scripture 
language  is  used,  but  as  shewing  the  fact  that  it  was  so  used,  and  leading 
to  the  inference  that  it  was  familiar,  or,  at  least,  not  unknown.  Neither 
do  I  offer  any  voucher  for  the  genuineness  of  charters,  in  any  case  where 
it  maybe  disputed.  It  is  obvious  that  a  forgery,  if  made  during  the  period 
of  which  I  write,  would  be  of  more  value  in  my  enquiry,  than  a  genuine 
document  of  earlier  date  could  be. 


NO.  XV.]  BURNT    BY    THE    DANES.  243 

with  serpents,  which  I  am  wont  to  call  my  crucibolus,  because 
the  sign  of  the  cross  is  impressed  transversely  on  the  inside 
of  it,  with  four  projecting  corners  having  a  like  impression  ; 
and  also  the  horn  of  my  table,  that  the  elders  of  the  monas- 
tery may  drink  out  of  it  on  the  festivals  of  the  saints,  and 
may  sometimes,  amidst  their  benedictions,  remember  the 
soul  of  the  donor,  Wichtlaf." 

Many  other  gifts  are  contained  in  this  charter  ;  and 
Wichtlaf,  we  are  told,  remained  constant  in  his  affec- 
tion to  the  monastery  as  long  as  he  lived,  visiting  it  at 
least  once  a  year,  and  always  making  some  rich  and 
valuable  present. 

As  to  the  destruction  of  this  monastery  by  the  Danes 
in  a.d.  870,  I  must  not  here  run  into  all  the  details  of 
that  horrible  event ;  but  one  or  two  facts  I  wish  to 
mention.     News  of  the  enemy's  approach  was  brought 
by  some  fugitives,  who  arrived  at  the  monastery  while 
the  monks  were  performing  matins.      The  abbot  Theo- 
dore, who  had  succeeded  Siward,  resolving  to  remain  at 
his  post  with  those  whose  advanced  or  tender  age  ren- 
dered flight  or  resistance  equally  impossible,  and  might 
perhaps  excite  compassion,   ordered  the  younger  and 
stronger  part  of  the  monks  to  escape,  if  possible,  into 
the  surrounding  marsh,  taking  with  them  the  reliques, 
principal  jewels,  and  documents  of  the  monastery.     The 
golden  table  given  by  Wichtlaf,  the  chalices,  and  all 
that  was  metal,  were  sunk  in  the  well ;  but  the  table 
was  so  large  that,  place  it  which  way  they  would,  it 
could  not  be  prevented  from  shewing  above   water ; 
and  at  length  they  drew  it  out  again ;  the  fires  were 
seen  nearer  and  nearer,  and  the  monks  who  were  to 
fly  with  the  other  still  more  valuable  things,   which 
were  already  in  the  boat,  pushed  off,  leaving  the  abbot 
to  conceal  the  table  as  well  as  he  could.     He,  with  the 
help  of  two  of  his  old  companions,  did  it  so  effectually 
that   T  believe  it  has  never  been  found  to  this  day. 

r  2 


244  THE    DANES  [NO.  XV. 

Certainly  it  had  not  been  two  hundred  years  after- 
wards, at  which  time  there  seems  to  have  been  a  tradi- 
tion that  it  was  buried  somewhere  outside  the  church 
on  the  north  side.  After  this,  they  dressed  themselves, 
and  assembled  in  the  choir  to  perform  divine  service, 
which  they  had  scarcely  finished  when  the  Danes  broke 
in.  The  abbot  was  slain  upon  the  altar.  The  old  men 
and  children  attempted  in  vain  to  fly.  They  were 
caught,  and  tortured  to  make  them  tell  where  treasure 
might  be  found,  and  then  murdered.  All  perished  but 
little  Turgar,  a  beautiful  child,  of  ten  years  old,  who 
kept  close  to  Lethwyn  the  sub-prior,  when  he  fled  into 
the  refectory,  and  seeing  him  slain  there,  besought  his 
persecutors  that  he  might  die  with  him.  The  younger 
Count  Sidrok  was  touched — he  pulled  off  the  cowl  of 
the  little  monk,  threw  a  Danish  tunic  over  him,  and 
bade  him  keep  by  his  side.  Under  his  protection,  the 
child,  who  alone  survived  to  tell  the  tragic  story,  went 
in  and  out  among  the  Danes  all  the  while  they  were 
at  Croyland,  went  with  them  to  Peterborough,  and 
while  accompanying  them  on  their  way  towards  Hunt- 
ingdon— taking  advantage  of  the  moment  when  Sid- 
rok's  followers,  who  brought  up  the  rear,  were  sud- 
denly called  to  rescue  two  carriages  laden  with  spoil, 
which  had  sunk  in  fording  a  river — he  escaped  into  a 
wood,  and,  walking  all  night,  got  to  Croyland  early  in 
the  morning.  There  he  found  his  brethren  who  had 
fled,  and  who,  having  spent  the  interval  in  a  wood  not 
far  distant,  had  returned  the  day  before,  and  were 
engaged  in  attempting  to  extinguish  the  fire  which 
was  still  raging  in  many  parts  of  the  monastery. 

How  they  endeavoured  to  repair  this  desolation,  and 
how  the  exactions  of  Ceolwlph  which  followed  brought 
the  monastery  to  such  poverty  that  the  abbot  was 
obliged  to  disband  the  greater  part  of  the  monks,  I 
need   not  here  relate.     All   the  chalices  but  three,  all 


NO.  XV.]  AT    CROYLAND    ABBEY.  '24:0 

the  silver  vessels  except  Wichtlaft's  crucibolus,  all  their 
jewels,  were  coined  or  sold  to  satisfy  his  rapacity ;  and 
the  few  monks  who  stayed  by  the  abbot  were  in  the 
deepest  poverty.  When  Athelstan  succeeded  his 
grandfather,  Alfred  the  Great,  in  a.  d.  924,  this  little 
company  of  twenty-eight  had  dwindled  down  to  seven  ; 
and  when  that  monarch  was  succeeded  by  his  brother 
Edmund,  in  a.  d.  941,  the  number  had  decreased  to 
five.  Two  of  these,  Brunus  and  Aio,  after  losing-  about 
the  same  time  King  Athelstan  and  the  Abbot  Goodric, 
gave  up  all  hope  of  the  restoration,  and  even  the  con- 
tinued existence  of  the  monastery,  and  migrated,  the 
former  to  Winchester,  and  the  latter  to  Malmesbury. 
Clarenbald,  Swartting,  and  Turgar  (the  child  of  a.  d. 
870,  and  apparently  the  youngest  of  the  three,)  alone 
remained. 

In  a.d.  946,  Edmund  was  succeeded  by  his  brother 
Edred.  If  I  had  been  writing  the  history  of  the  Anglo- 
Saxons,  I  should  have  had  much  to  say,  in  the  reigns 
of  these  sons  of  Edward,  of  the  old  soldier  Turketul, 
who  had  been  chancellor  to  them  all  three,  and  to 
their  father  before  them,  and  who  was,  moreover,  their 
first  cousin,  being  like  them  a  grandson  of  Alfred  the 
Great.  In  the  second  year  of  his  reign,  Edmund  was 
threatened  with  invasion  from  the  north,  and  Turketul 
was  sent  to  York.  Passing  through  Croyland  on  his 
way.  with  a  great  train — for  he  was  not  only  the  king's 
cousin,  but  himself  lord  of  sixty  manors — the  chan- 
cellor was  intercepted  by  the  three  old  monks,  who 
begged  that,  as  night  was  approaching,  he  would  be 
their  guest.  It  is  true  that  they  had  no  suitable 
means  for  entertaining  such  a  person,  with  such  a 
retinue;  and  had  it  not  been  that  in  those  days  tra- 
vellers of  rank  knew  that  they  must,  and  therefore 
did.  in  a  great  measure,  provide  for  themselves,  they 
could  never  have  cnterprised  such    a    matter.       As   it 


246  RESTORATION  [NO.    XV. 

was,  how  they  got  through  it  is  past  my  comprehen- 
sion. But  they  did ;  they  took  him  to  prayers  in  the 
little  oratory  which  had  been  got  up  in  one  corner  of 
the  ruined  church,  shewed  him  their  reliques,  told  him 
their  story,  and  implored  him  to  intercede  with  the 
king  for  the  rebuilding  of  their  church.  He  was  quite 
taken  with  the  old  men — senum  curialitatem  intimis 
visceribus  amplexatus ;  he  promised  to  be  their  advo- 
cate with  the  king,  and  their  benefactor  from  his  pri- 
vate means  ;  and,  when  he  went  forward  in  the  morn- 
ing, he  ordered  his  servants  to  leave  provisions  suffi- 
cient for  them  until  his  return,  with  an  hundred  shil- 
lings for  their  expenses. 

The  old  monks  had  made  a  strong  impression,  and 
during  his  whole  journey  the  chancellor  could  talk  of 
nothing,  even  to  strangers  whom  he  met  on  the  way,  or 
at  inns,  but  the  old  monks  of  Croyland.  After  settling 
his  business  at  York,  he  revisited  them  in  his  way  back 
to  London ;  and  having  passed  the  night  there,  and  left 
them  twenty  pounds,  he  went  on  to  tell  the  king,  first 
about  the  northern  business,  and  then  about  them.  In 
short,  (I  assure  the  reader  that  I  am  not  making  a  long 
story,  but,  I  fear,  spoiling  one  for  brevity's  sake,)  hav- 
ing obtained  the  king's  orders  to  do  what  he  saw  fit  in 
the  matter  of  restoring  the  monastery,  he  astonished 
his  royal  master  by  declaring  his  intention  to  turn 
monk.  "The  king  hearing  this,  wondered  beyond 
measure,  and  endeavoured  by  all  means  to  dissuade 
him  from  his  purpose,  especially  as  he  was  now  grow- 
ing old,  and,  having  been  bred  up  in  ease,  had  not  been 
accustomed  to  the  rigour  of  monastic  life.  Beside  this, 
as  in  the  most  important  affairs  of  state  everything 
depended  on  his  help  and  counsel,  he  not  unjustly 
feared  that  the  kingdom  would  be  endangered."  The 
chancellor  answered,  "  My  lord  the  king,  God  who 
knows  all  things  is  my  witness  that  I  have  fought  for 


NO.  XV.]  OF    CROYLAND    ABBEY.  247 

my  lords  your  brothers,  and  for  yourself,  with  all  my 
might ;  iioav,  for  your  soul's  sake,  let  your  clemency 
permit  that  I  may  at  least  in  my  old  age  fight  for  my 
Lord  God.  As  to  my  counsel  and  every  assistance 
that  my  poor  means  can  give,  it  shall  be  promptly  given 
to  all  your  affairs  as  long  as  there  is  life  in  my  body ; 
but  your  highness  must  certainly  understand  that  from 
this  time  forth  I  will  not  handle  the  weapons  of  war." 
The  king  was  grieved,  but  unwilling  to  force  or  to 
over-persuade  his  faithful  servant, — yet  he  did  after- 
wards make  one  desperate  effort  to  retain  him  ;  calling 
him  one  day  into  his  private  chamber,  he  fell  at  his 
feet,  and  implored  him  not  to  desert  him  in  his  distress. 
Turketul,  however,  though  overcome  by  the  unexpected 
proceeding  of  his  sovereign,  fell  down  also  and  besought 
him  to  spare  him ;  nor  could  he  be  moved  from  his 
purpose.  They  rose,  the  king  consented,  and  fixed  a 
day  for  accompanying  him  to  Croyland,  in  order  to  its 
execution. 

In  the  meantime,  the  chancellor  sent  a  crier  round 
London  to  say,  that  if  he  was  indebted  to  any  one  he 
would  be  ready  at  a  certain  time  and  place  to  pay  him, 
or  if  he  had  wronged  any  man,  to  restore  him  three- 
fold. He  then  gave  his  sixty  manors  to  the  king, 
reserving  only  one  in  ten  for  the  monastery.  He  also 
ran  down  with  all  possible  expedition  to  pay  a  hasty 
visit  to  his  old  friends,  who  were  overjoyed  to  see  him — 
"  summa  celeritate  de  Londiniis  Croylandium  advolans 
prrefatos  tres  senes  in  dicta  insula  latitantes  devotissime 
visitavit,  et  supra  quam  dici  potest,  aut  excogitari. 
revelato  suo  sancto  proposito,  in  immensum  lsetificavit." 
He  put  them  in  a  carriage,  and  rode  them  about  into 
every  corner  of  the  island,  exploring  by  the  help  of 
their  memories,  and  the  charter  of  foundation,  the 
boundary  of  the  possession^  of  the  monastery,  which  ho 
marked    out    by    stone    crosses      The    lands    had,    of 


248  RESTORATION  [NO.  XV. 

course,  got  into  other  hands ;  but  it  seems  as  if  in  most 
cases  he  had  little  trouble  in  redeeming  them.  People 
were  not  unwilling  to  sell  him  (perhaps  even  at  a 
moderate  price)  what  they  knew  did  not  belong  to 
them ;  and,  in  fact,  he  appears  to  have  failed  in  only 
two  cases.  Duke  Osbricht  had  got  hold  of  the  lands 
of  Kyrketon,  Kymerby,  and  Croxton ;  the  original 
charters  had  perished ;  the  lands  were  not  specified  in 
any  royal  confirmation ;  and  his  offer  to  re-purchase  at 
a  fair  price  having  been  twice  refused,  Turketul  was 
obliged  to  give  them  up.  The  other  case  was  more 
difficult  and  delicate — Beovred,  king  of  Mercia,  had 
given  the  manor  of  Depyng  to  his  chief  baker,  Langfer. 
It  had  descended  to  his  two  daughters,  and  they  now 
belonged  to  a  class  of  ladies  with  whom  it  is  not  always 
easy  to  deal.  They  would  yield  to  neither  claim  nor 
entreaty,  and  the  chancellor  seems  to  have  been  too 
polite  to  attempt  their  ejectment  by  any  other  means. 
He  patiently  hoped  that  they  would  change  their 
minds,  (so  I  am  resolved  to  understand  his  expectation 
of  better  times,)  but  he  waited  all  his  life  in  vain 2. 

The  king  went  to  Croyland  on  the  eve  of  the 
Assumption  in  the  year  948.  Turketul  accompanied, 
or  had  preceded  him.  Messengers  were  sent  for  the 
two  absent  monks,  who  joyfully  returned,  and  were 
heartily  welcomed,  for  they  were  "  viri  literatissimi,  et 
moribus  multum  honesti  ac  religiosi 3."     The  chancellor 


2  "  Quae  diu  in  coelibatu  permanentes,  neque  cum  Turketulo  voluerunt 
componere,  nee  juri  suo  prece  vel  pretio  renuntiare.  Expectabat  itaque 
diutius  venerabilis  pater  Turketulus  tempora  meliora  :  sed  quamdiu  vixit, 
vixerunt  et  illse  in  eadem  pertinacia." 

3  It  is  worth  while,  as  it  regards  the  possibilities  of  locomotion  in  those 
days,  to  observe  that  the  king  arrived  at  Croyland  on  Monday  the  14th  of 
August.  Messengers  were  (rnox),  I  know  not  exactly  how  soon,  dispatched 
to  Malmesbury  and  Winchester,  and  the  two  monks  got  to  Croyland  on 
Wednesday  the  23rd  of  the  same  month.  We  may,  in  the  present  day, 
consider  that  as  ample  time  for  such  a  journey;  but  we  must  remember 


NO.  XV.]  OF    CROYLAND    ABBEY.  '249 

laid  aside  his  lay  habit,  and  received  the  pastoral  start 
from  the  king,  and  the  benediction  from  the  bishop  of 
the  diocese,  and  thus  became  Abbot  of  Cropland.  The 
king  took  on  himself  the  expense  of  building,  and  set 
about  it  in  earnest.  Leaving  Egelric  (a  kinsman  of 
Turketul)  to  act  as  clerk  of  the  works,  he  took  the 
new  abbot,  with  two  of  his  monks,  Turgar  and  Aio,  to 
London,  where,  in  a  public  council  before  the  arch- 
bishops, bishops,  and  nobles  of  the  land,  he  confirmed 
to  the  monastery  all  its  possessions.  Many  learned 
men  followed  Turketul,  of  whom  ten  became  monks. 
The  others  had  no  notion  of  doing  so,  (rigorem  reli- 
gionis  abhorrentes,)  but  only  came  because  they  did  not 
know  how  to  do  without  him,  (quia  praesentia  ejus  nullo 
modo  carere  poterant.)  These,  being  numerous,  he 
placed  in  a  cell  dedicated  to  St.  Pega,  on  the  east  side 
of  the  monastery.  He  gave  them  the  allowance  of 
monks,  built  them  a  chapel,  and  appointed  for  them 
the  same  religious  sendees,  by  day  and  night,  as  the 
monks  performed.  Many  became  priests,  and  after- 
wards monks,  and  in  the  meantime  he  employed  them 
in  school-keeping,  and  made  a  point  of  going  at  least 
once  every  day  to  inspect  the  progress  of  each  indivi- 
dual child  ;  taking  with  him  a  servant  who  carried  figs 
or  raisins,  or  nuts  or  walnuts,  or  more  frequently  apples 
and  pears,  which  he  distributed  as  rewards. 

But  I  am  not  writing  the  life  of  Turketul.     He  was 
succeeded  in  a.d.  975  by  his  relation  Egelric,  already 


that  the  messengers  had  not  merely  to  go  and  return  a  distance  of  at  least 
120  or  150  miles,  but  that  each  had  to  bring  with  him  a  very  aged  com- 
panion. We  know  that  Turgar  was  at  this  time  eighty-eight  years  of  age, 
and  that  these  travellers  were  his  seniors,  for  they  were  among  the  "for- 
tiores  et  adolescentiores"  who  tied  from  the  Danes,  when  he  was  left 
behind  as  a  child.  Yet  we  may  reasonably  hope  that  neither  of  the  old 
gentlemen  was  over-fatigued,  as  we  hear  nothing  of  it,  and  find  one  of 
them  setting  out  for  London  on  the  Monday  after. 


250  RESTORATION  [NO.  XV. 

mentioned.  From  being  one  of  the  clerici  Pegelan- 
denses,  he  had  become  a  monk,  and  during  the  latter 
years  of  Turketul  he  had  had  the  chief  management  of 
affairs,  for  which  he  was  peculiarly  qualified.  One 
point  which  gained  him  credit  was  the  management 
with  which  he  provided  a  large  stock  of  timber,  of 
which  a  great  part  of  the  monastery  was  afterwards 
built.  Of  it,  during  the  lifetime  of  Turketul,  the  nave 
of  the  church  was  built,  and  the  tower  was  framed 
with  very  long  beams  ;  and  after  he  became  abbot  he 
erected  many  very  fine  buildings — namely,  the  in- 
firmary, of  very  good  size,  the  beams  and  boards  of 
which  were  put  together  with  admirable  art  of  car- 
pentry. A  chapel,  of  like  workmanship,  with  baths 
and  other  requisites  ;  and  because  they  would  not  have 
borne  a  stone  roof,  they  were  covered  with  lead. 
Then  he  made  the  hall  of  the  guests,  and  two  large 
and  very  handsome  chambers  of  the  same  workman- 
ship. He  made  also  a  new  brewhouse  and  bakehouse, 
all  of  very  beautiful  wood-work,  (omnia  de  lignorum 
pulcherrimo  tabulato)  a  great  granary  in  the  same 
style,  and  a  large  stable,  the  upper  chambers  for  the 
servants  of  the  abbey,  and  the  under  part  for  the 
horses ;  those  of  the  abbot  at  one  end,  and  those  of  the 
guests  at  the  other.  These  three  buildings,  the  stable, 
granary,  and  bakehouse,  formed  the  west  side  of  the 
court  of  the  monastery ;  on  the  south  was  the  hall  of 
the  guests,  and  its  chambers ;  on  the  east  the  sutrinum, 
or  place  of  sewing,  or  clothes-making,  the  hall  of  the 
converts,  with  the  abbot's  chamber,  chapel,  hall,  and 
kitchen ;  and  the  north  side  contained  the  great 
entrance,  and  the  apartment  for  receiving  the  poor. 
All,  except  the  hall,  chamber,  and  chapel  of  the  abbot, 
and  the  apartment  for  the  poor,  (which  had  been  built 
of  stone  by  Turketul,)  were  built  of  wood,  and  roofed 
with  stone.     With  Egelric's  agricultural  performances 


NO.  XV.]  OF    CROYLAND    ABBEY.  251 

we  are  not  at  present  engaged,  and  I  write  under  a 
most  wTetched  fear  of  being  tedious ;  but  I  must  say 
that  they  were  such  that  the  monastery  was  enriched 
beyond  measure  by  the  produce  of  its  lands ;  population 
gathered  round,  and  there  was  soon  a  town  in  the 
marshy  desert.  It  is  more  to  our  purpose  to  observe 
that  Abbot  Egelric  "  caused  to  be  made  two  great 
bells,  which  he  named  Bartholomew  and  Bettelmus, 
two  of  middle  size,  which  he  called  Turketul  and  Tat- 
in/n,  and  two  lesser,  Pega  and  Bega.  His  predecessor 
had  before  caused  to  be  made  a  very  large  bell,  which 
he  named  Gruthlac,  which  was  in  tune  with  these  bells, 
and  with  them  made  admirable  harmony;  nor  was 
there  such  another  peal  of  bells  in  England  4." 

His  successor,  though  he  bore  the  same  name,  was  a 
man  of  different  disposition — vir  magis  libris  et  Uteris 
sacris  deditus,  quam  in  temporalium  provisione  doctus. 
It  was  well  that  he  followed,  rather  than  preceded,  his 
namesake ;  for  books  and  sacred  literature  are  most 
advantageously  studied  under  cover,  and  with  places 
and  means  for  physical  refection ;  and  so  it  is  that  God 
employs  the  various  talents  and  dispositions  of  men; 
even  so  obviously  that  one  would  think  the  hand  could 
never  dream  of  saying  to  the  foot,  "  I  have  no  need  of 
thee."  I  beg  pardon  for  this  reflection,  when  I  am 
really  studying  brevity,   but   it   has  been  repeatedly 


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


252  SECOND    BURNING  [NO.  XV. 

forced  on  my  mind  in  reading  the  brief  records  of 
whole  strings  of  abbots,  priors,  &c.  Egelric  the  Second 
gave  to  the  common  library  of  the  monastery  (communi 
bibliothecae  claustralium  monachorum — I  do  not  know 
whether  that  phrase  was  used  to  exclude  the  scholastic 
"  clerici  Pegelandenses,"  already  mentioned,)  forty  great 
original  volumes  of  learned  writers,  and  more  than  a 
hundred  smaller  volumes  of  miscellaneous  treatises  and 
histories ;  and  besides  these  he  made  for  the  choir  six 
graduals,  four  antiphonaries,  and  eight  missals  for  the 
different  altars. 

I  see  that  I  must  fairly  skip  over  about  a  century, 
and  say  at  once  that  Ingulph,  to  whom  I  am  indebted 
for  most  of  the  foregoing  particulars,  was  Abbot  of 
Croyland  in  a.  d.  1091.  What  I  have  hitherto  said, 
though  it  seems  to  me  to  illustrate  many  parts  of  our 
subject,  is  given  with  immediate  view  to  his  account  of 
what  happened  in  his  own  time.  Speaking  of  his 
beloved  patron,  Archbishop  Lanfranc,  who  died  in  a.d. 
1089,  he  says — 

"Two  years  after  his  death  happened  that  which  was  my 
heaviest  misfortune,  which  had  been  foreshewn  by  so  many 
prodigies — the  total  destruction  of  so  great  a  monastery,  so 
often  clearly  foretold  in  very  many  visions,  and  other  appari- 
tions— that  most  fierce  conflagration  which  cruelly  devoured 
so  many  and  such  dwelling  places  of  the  servants  of  God. 
For  our  plumber,  being  employed  in  the  tower  of  the  church 
about  the  repairs  of  the  roof,  and  not  extinguishing  his  fire  in 
the  evening,  but  fatally  and  most  foolishly  covering  it  with 
ashes,  that  he  might  the  more  readily  set  to  work  in  the 
morning,  went  down  to  supper;  and  when,  after  supper,  all 
our  servants  had  gone  to  bed,  and  were  every  one  of  them 
fast  asleep,  a  strong  wind  rising  from  the  north,  speedily 
brought  on  our  great  calamity.  For,  entering  the  tower 
through  the  lattice-work,  which  was  open  on  every  side,  it 
first  blew  away  the  ashes,  and  then  drove  the  live  coals 
against  the  nearest  wood-work,  where,  quickly  finding  dry 
materials    which   were     ready    to   catch,    and    thus    gaining 


NO.  XV.]  OF    CROYLAND    ABBEY.  263 

strength,  the  fire  began  to  seize  the  more  substantial  parts. 
The  peasants,  who  saw  for  a  long  while  a  great  light  in  the 
belfry,  supposed  that  the  clerks  of  the  church  or  the  plumber 
were  finishing  some  work ;  but,  at  length,  perceiving  the 
flames  burst  forth,  they  came  knocking  at  the  gates  of  the 
monastery  with  great  clamour.  It  was  just  about  the  dead 
of  the  night,  and  we  were  all  resting  in  our  beds,  taking  our 
first  and  deepest  sleep.  At  length,  being  awakened  by  the 
loud  clamour  of  the  people,  and  hastening  to  the  nearest 
window,  I  saw  as  clearly  as  if  it  had  been  noon-day  all  the 
servants  of  the  monastery  running  towards  the  church,  cry- 
ing and  hallooing.  Having  put  on  my  slippers,  and  waked 
my  companions,  I  hastened  down  into  the  cloister,  where 
everything  was  as  brilliant  as  if  it  had  been  lighted  up  with 
a  thousand  tapers.  I  ran  to  the  door  of  the  church  ;  and, 
attempting  to  enter,  I  was  very  nearly  caught  by  the  melted 
bell-metal  and  boiling  lead,  which  were  pouring  down.  I 
stepped  back,  however,  in  time ;  and,  looking  in,  and  seeing 
that  the  flames  had  everywhere  got  the  upper  hand,  I  took 
my  course  toward  the  dormitory7.  The  lead  from  the  church 
dropping  on  the  cloister,  and  soon  making  its  way  through, 
I  was  severely  burnt  in  the  shoulder,  and  might  have  been 
burnt  to  death,  if  I  had  not  quickly  leaped  into  the  open  area 
of  the  cloister ;  where,  seeing  that  the  flames  that  issued 
from  the  tower  of  the  church  on  every  side  had  seized  the 
nave  also,  and  were  pointed  towards  the  dormitory  of  the 
monks,  in  which  direction  burning  materials  were  continuallv 
carried,  I  cried  out  to  those  who  were  still  in  deep  sleep; 
and,  by  raising  my  voice  to  the  utmost,  I  was  scarcely  able, 
after  a  long  while,  to  rouse  them.  They,  recognizing  my 
voice,  and  leaping  out  of  bed  in  great  alarm  when  they  heard 
that  the  cloister  was  on  fire,  rushed  through  all  the  windows 
of  the  dormitory  in  their  slippers  and  half-naked,  and  fell 
miserably.  Many,  alas  !  were  wounded,  many  bruised  and 
fractured,  by  the  hard  fall. 

"  The  flames,  however,  continuing  to  increase,  and  conti- 
nually throwing  flakes  of  fire  from  the  church  towards  the 
refectory — first  the  chapter  house,  then  the  dormitory,  then 
the  refectory  itself,  and,  at  the  same  moment,  the  cloisters 
belonging  to  the  infirmary,  and  the  whole  of  the  infirman. 
with  all  the  adjoining  buildings,  were  swallowed  up  at    one 


254  SECOND    BURNING  [NO.  XV. 

stroke.  As  all  our  brethren  collected  about  me  in  the  court, 
when  I  saw  most  of  them  half-naked,  I  tried  to  regain  my 
own  chamber  that  I  might  distribute  the  clothes  I  had  there 
to  those  who  were  most  in  need.  But  every  avenue  to  the 
hall  was  so  exceedingly  hot,  and  such  a  shower  of  melted 
lead  was  falling  on  every  side,  that  even  the  boldest  of  the 
young  men  were  obliged  to  keep  their  distance.  Moreover, 
not  yet  knowing  that  our  infirmary  had  been  seized  by  the 
flames  on  the  other  side,  I  was  going  round  by  the  north 
cemetery  towards  the  east  end  of  the  church,  when  I  per- 
ceived that  our  infirmary  was  on  fire,  and  that  the  uncon- 
querable flames  were  raging  with  the  utmost  violence  among 
the  green  trees — ash,  oak,  and  willow — which  were  growing 
around.  Returning,  therefore,  to  the  west  side,  I  found  my 
chamber  like  a  furnace,  vomiting  forth  incessant  flames  from 
all  the  windows ;  and,  going  forwards,  I  beheld,  with  tearful 
eyes,  that  all  the  contiguous  buildings  towards  the  south, 
(that  is  to  say,  the  halls  of  the  converts  and  of  the  guests,) 
and  all  the  other  buildings  that  were  covered  with  lead,  were 
on  fire.  But  the  tower  of  the  church  falling  on  the  south 
transept,  I  was  so  terrified  by  the  crash,  that  I  fell  on  the 
ground,  half  dead  in  a  fainting  fit.  I  was  picked  up  by  my 
brethren,  and  carried  into  the  porter's  lodge ;  but  I  scarcely 
recovered  the  use  of  my  faculties  and  my  customary  strength 
before  morning. 

"  Day  breaking  at  length,  and  I  having  recovered  from  my 
fit,  the  brethren  weeping  and  languid,  and  some  of  them 
miserably  wounded,  and  burnt  in  many  parts  of  their  bodies, 
performed  divine  service  together  with  mournful  voice,  and 
lamentable  wailing,  in  the  hall  of  Grimketul,  our  corrodiary. 
Having  performed  all  the  hours  of  divine  service,  as  well  for 
the  day  as  for  the  night,  we  went  out  to  take  a  view  of  the 
state  of  things  throughout  the  whole  monastery,  the  flames 
being  still  unsubdued  in  many  of  the  offices.  It  was  then 
that  I  first  perceived  that  our  granary  and  stable  were 
burned ;  the  flames  being  not  yet  quenched,  though  their 
posts  had  been  burned  even  below  the  level  of  the  ground. 
About  the  third  hour  of  the  day,  the  fire  being  in  great  mea- 
sure got  under,  we  went  into  the  church,  and,  extinguishing 
with  water  the  fire  which  was  already  subsiding,  we  perceived 
in  the  incinerated  choir  that  all  the  service  books,  both  anti- 


NO.    XV.]  OF    CROYLAND    ABBEY.  255 

phonaries  and  graduate,  had  perished.  On  entering  the 
vestry,  however,  we  found  all  our  sacred  vestments,  the 
relics  of  the  saints,  and  some  other  valuables  which  were 
there  reposited,  untouched  by  the  fire,  because  the  building 
was  covered  with  a  double  stone  arch.  Going  up  to  our 
archives,  we  found  that,  although  they  were  entirely  covered 
by  a  stone  arch5,  nevertheless,  the  fire  rushing  in  through 
the  wooden  windows,  all  our  deeds  were  stuck  together,  and 
burnt  up  by  the  extreme  heat,  as  if  they  had  been  in  a  glow- 
ing furnace  or  oven ;  although  the  cases  in  which  they  were 
kept  appeared  to  be  safe  and  sound.  Our  most  beautiful 
chirographs,  written  in  the  Roman  character,  and  adorned 
with  golden  crosses,  and  most  beautiful  paintings,  and  pre- 
cious materials,  which  were  reposited  in  that  place,  were  all 
destroyed.  The  privileges  also  of  the  kings  of  Mercia,  the 
most  ancient  and  best,  in  like  manner  beautifully  executed, 
with  golden  illuminations,  but  written  in  the  Saxon  charac- 
ter, were  all  burned.  All  our  documents  of  this  kind,  greater 
and  less,  were  about  four  hundred  in  number ;  and,  in  one 
moment  of  a  most  dismal  night,  they  were  destroyed  and  lost 
to  us  by  lamentable  misfortune.  A  few  years  before,  I  had 
taken  from  our  archives  a  good  many  chirographs,  written  in 
the  Saxon  character,  because  we  had  duplicates,  and  in  some 

5  Here  is  an  instance  of  that  which  I  have  already  noticed — the  greater 
provision  which  was  made  for  the  security  of  the  archives.  I  have  said 
that  when  Mabillon  was  at  Nonantula,  he  found  only  two  MSS.  of  all  its 
former  riches  ;  but  he  found  "  in  archivo  diplomata  perantiqua  Ludovici 
Lotharii  et  aliorum."  {It.  Jtal.  202.)  Of  course  they  had  a  value  far  beyond 
that  which  an  antiquary  could  discover  in  them,  which  would  account  for 
peculiar  care  being  taken  for  their  preservation,  and  for  their  being 
actually  preserved  when  books  were  lost.  To  this  their  superior  porta- 
bility would  often  conduce.  We  have  just  seen  that  the  documents  of 
Croyland  were  carried  into  safety  when  it  is  probable  that  books  were 
destroyed.  Ruinart  tells  us  that  when  he  and  Mabillon  were  at  Morbach, 
something  similar  had  occurred — "  Magnam  esse  ibi  diplomatum  copiam 
acceperamus,  sed  quod  ob  bellorum  tumultus  alio  asportata  essent,  ea 
videre  non  licuit,"  (Jr.  Alsat.  468  ;)  but  he  goes  on  to  say — "  Hanc  jac- 
turam  codicum  mss.  Bibliotheca?  abundantia  resarcivit,  quorum  nonpauci 
sub  prima  regum  nostrorum  stirpe  litteris  majusculis  aut  franco  gallicis 
descripti  sunt."  He  specifies  a  psalter  that  was  800,  and  a  copy  of  St. 
Paul's  Epistles  900  years  old,  and  a  New  Testament  of  equal  antiquity,  "  et 
alii  codices  optima?  notae  in  quibus  sacrae  scripturae  libri,"  &c. ;  but  these 
were  to  take  the  chance  of  war.     Ap.  Mab.  Op.  Post.  Tom.  iii. 


256  SECOND    BURNING  [NO.  XV 

cases  triplicates,  of  them ;  and  had  given  them  to  our  Cantor 
Master  Fulmar,  to  be  kept  in  the  cloister,  to  help  the  juniors 
to  learn  the  Saxon  character,  because  that  letter  had  for  a 
long  while  been  despised  and  neglected  by  reason  of  the 
Normans,  and  was  now  known  only  to  a  few  of  the  more 
aged  ;  that  so  the  younger  ones,  being  instructed  to  read  this 
character,  might  be  more  competent  to  use  the  documents  of 
their  monastery  against  their  adversaries  in  their  old  age.  These 
chirographs,  being  kept  in  a  certain  old  chest,  which  was 
enclosed  by  the  wall  of  the  church,  were  the  only  ones  that 
were  saved,  and  escaped  the  fire.  These  are  now  our  chief 
and  principal  documents,  which  were  formerly  secondary, 
and  put  aside,  having  been  long  lightly  esteemed  and  looked 
down  upon,  because  of  their  barbarous  writing ;  according  to 
the  saying  of  Job, — *  The  things  that  my  soul  refused  to 
touch  are  as  my  sorrowful  meat  V 

"  All  our  library  also  perished,  which  contained  more  than 
three  hundred  original  volumes,  beside  smaller  volumes, 
which  were  more  than  four  hundred.  Then,  too,  we  lost 
that  most  beautiful  and  very  costly  table,  wonderfully  made 
with  every  kind  of  metal  to  distinguish  the  stars  and  the 
signs — Saturn  was  of  copper — Jupiter  of  gold — Mars  of 
iron — the  Sun  of  brass — Mercury  of  amber — Venus  of  tin 
— the  Moon  of  silver.  The  colure  circles,  and  all  the  signs 
of  the  zodiac,  according  to  their  kinds,  by  the  skilful  work- 
manship having  their  proper  images  and  colours,  in  various 
forms  and  figures,  engaged,  beyond  measure,  not  only  the 
understanding,  but  the  eyes,  of  the  spectators  by  the  multi- 
plicity of  precious  stones  and  metals.  There  was  not  such 
another  nadir  known  or  talked  of  in  England.  The  King  of 
France  had  formerly  presented  it  to  Turketul  ;  and  he,  at 
his  death,  had  given  it  to  the  common  library,  as  well  for 
ornament  as  to  teach  the  juniors.  Now  it  was  consumed, 
and  melted  down  to  nothing,  in  the  devouring  fire. 

"  Our  chapter-house  was  totally  consumed  ;  our  dormitory, 
and  all  the  beds  of  the  monks  which  were  in  it,  and  the  build- 
ing which  adjoined,  perished  in  one  conflagration.  In  like 
manner  our  infirmary,  with  the  chapel,  the  baths,  and  all  the 

6  Ch.  vi.  ver.  7-  Quae  prius  nolebat  tangere  anima  mea,  nunc  pra? 
angustia  cibi  mei  sunt. 


NO.  XV.]  OF    CROYLAND    ABBEY.  257 

adjoining  offices,  were  burned.  Our  refectory  and  all  that  it 
contained  (except  a  few  stone  cups,  and  the  horn  and  cruci- 
bolus  of  Wichtlaf,  king  of  Mercia,  which  were  kept  in  stone 
chests),  with  the  adjoining  kitchens,  and  all  the  hall  and 
chamber  of  the  converts,  with  all  that  was  in  them,  were 
burnt  together.  Our  cellar,  and  the  very  casks  full  of  beer, 
were  destroyed.  The  halls  also  of  the  abbot,  and  his  cham- 
ber, and  the  whole  court  of  the  monastery,  which  had  been 
most  beautifully  surrounded  with  very  elegant  buildings 
through  the  diligence  of  my  predecessors, — (unhappy  I,  that 
my  stay  there  was  prolonged  to  behold  such  a  sight !) — 
perished  in  a  miserable  conflagration,  the  flames  raging  on 
every  side  with  the  fury  of  Greek  fire.  A  few  huts  of  our 
poor  pensioners,  and  the  outhouses  of  our  cattle,  and  the 
buildings  containing  the  other  animals,  being  at  a  greater 
distance,  and  covered  with  stone,  were  all  that  were  pre- 
served. For,  beside  the  north  transept  of  the  church,  from 
whence  the  wind  rushing  forth  most  powerfully  drove  the 
flames  towards  the  south,  all  the  buildings  of  the  monastery, 
especially  those  that  were  roofed  with  lead,  whether  built  of 
wood  or  stone,  our  chirographs  and  valuables,  books  and 
utensils,  bells  and  their  turrets,  clothes  and  provisions,  in 
one  moment  of  time,  while  I,  most  unhappy,  presided,  were 
lost  and  consumed. 

"  Many  signs  and  many  portents  prognosticated  these 
fires,  and  nocturnal  visions  very  often  predicted  them ;  but 
all  these  things  I  understood  only  after  the  event.  Not  only 
the  words  of  our  holy  Father  Turketul,  when  he  was  at  the 
point  of  death,  earnestly  admonishing  us  to  take  care  of  our 
fire,  but  also  those  of  our  blessed  father  Wulfran  at  Fonta- 
nelle,  in  a  night  vision,  commanding  me  carefully  to  preserve 
the  fire  of  the  house  of  the  three  saints, — that  is  to  say, 
Guthlac,  Neot,  and  Waklev, — contained  most  certain  admo- 
nitions. But  I  understand  and  confess  all  these  thing-, 
unhappily,  too  late ;  and  I,  who  for  my  sins  do  worthily 
deserve  to  pour  forth  such  lamentations  and  useless  tears, 
am  only  indulging  in  vain  complaints. 

u  But  that  we  may  go  on,  let  us  return  to  our  sad  history. 
Our  great  misfortune  being  quickly  made  known  through  the 
whole  vicinity,  many  of  our  neighbours,  having  bowels  of 
mercy  for  our  misery,  most  kindly  looked  with  an  eye  of  pity 

S 


258  CROYLAND  ABBEY.  [NO.  XV. 

on  our  destitution.  For  our  lord  and  most  holy  father  Remi- 
gius,  bishop  of  Lincoln,  graciously  granted  to  those  who 
should  do  to  us,  or  procure  for  us,  any  good,  forty  days  of 
indulgence ;  and  beside  this,  he  gave  us  forty  marks  of  silver 
in  money.  By  his  advice  and  suggestion,  also,  the  venerable 
canons  of  the  church  of  Lincoln,  and  the  citizens  of  that  city, 
who  were  our  neighbours,  sent  us  a  hundred  marks.  Also 
Richard  de  Rulos,  Lord  of  Brunne  and  Depyng,  as  our  faith- 
ful brother  and  loving  friend  in  the  time  of  tribulation,  then 
gave  us  ten  quarters  of  wheat,  ten  quarters  of  barley,  ten 
quarters  of  peas,  ten  quarters  of  beans,  and  ten  pounds  of 
silver.  This  was  the  contribution  of  Richard  de  Rulos  to- 
wards the  restoration  of  our  monastery.  Also  Haco  of  Mul- 
ton  gave  us  twelve  quarters  of  corn,  and  twenty  fine  flitches 
of  bacon.  This  was  the  contribution  of  the  aforesaid  Haco. 
Also  Elsinus  of  Pyncebec  gave  us  a  hundred  shillings  in 
silver,  and  ten  flitches.  Also  Ardnotus  of  Spalding  gave  us 
six  quarters  of  corn,  and  two  carcases  of  beef,  and  twelve 
flitches  of  bacon.  And  beside  these,  many  other  persons 
made  us  various  gifts,  whereby  our  distress  was  much  re- 
lieved, whose  names  may  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  write  in  the 
book  of  life,  and  may  He  repay  them  with  heavenly  glory. 
But  among  so  many  benefactors,  Juliana,  a  poor  woman  of 
Weston,  of  pious  memory,  must  not  be  forgotten,  for  she 
gave  us  of  her  poverty,  even  all  her  living, — namely,  a  great 
quantity  of  twisted  thread,  to  sew  the  garments  of  the  bre- 
thren." 

I  pass  over  the  arrangements  which  the  abbot  pro- 
ceeded to  make  for  raising  money  on  the  lands  of  the 
monastery,  and  the  documents  which  he  has  inserted 
respecting  these  transactions ;  but  I  must  add  the  short 
paragraph  which  follows  them  : — 

u  Being  therefore  mercifully  helped  by  the  contributions  of 
so  many  of  Christ's  faithful  people,  as  well  our  neighbours  as 
persons  at  a  distance,  we  laboured,  in  the  first  place,  night  and 
day,  to  rebuild  the  house  of  the  Lord,  lest  their  gifts  should 
seem  to  have  been  cast  away  on  a  barren  soil.  We  put  in 
a  new  nave  to  the  roof  of  the  church,  in  place  of  the  old  one 
which  had  been  burnt ;  we  added  also  some  other  append- 


NO.  XVI.]  SCARCITY    OF    MSS.  259 

ages,  such  as  they  were.  Moreover,  for  the  old  tower  of  the 
church,  a  humble  belfry,  in  which  we  placed  two  little  bells 
which  Fergus,  the  brass-worker  of  St.  Botolph's,  had  lately 
given  us,  until  better  times,  when  we  propose,  by  the  help  of 
the  Lord,  to  renew  everything  in  a  better  manner,  and  to 
raise  to  the  Lord  of  majesty  a  worthy  temple  on  surer  foun- 
dations.11 

I  trust  that  these  details  are  not  without  interest  in 
themselves,  and  they  certainly  conduce  to  one  very 
principal  object  of  these  papers,  which  is,  not  merely  to 
call  the  reader's  attention  to  the  facts  of  the  dark  ages, 
but  to  the  writers  who  have  recorded  them.  I  have 
perhaps  said  more  than  enough  of  the  ravages  of  fire 
and  sword,  and  I  hope  to  proceed  immediately  to  the 
consideration  of  another  cause  to  which  we  may  ascribe 
the  scarcity  of  manuscripts. 


No.  XVI. 


"  Ne  toga  cordylis  et  paenula  desit  olivis, 

Aut  inopem  metuat  sordida  blatta  famem." — Mart 

There  is  an  appearance,  at  least,  of  self-complacency 
in  an  author's  saying,  "  the  reader  remembers,"  which 
may  provoke  a  smile,  that  is  more  or  less  deserved,  in 
proportion  to  the  importance  of  the  matter  referred  to, 
and  its  distance  as  to  time  and  place.  If  it  is  a  startling 
fact,  or  a  necessary  argument,  on  the  preceding  page, 
it  is  well  enough;  but  if  it  is  some  slight  matter  of 
passing  remark,  five  or  ten  volumes  off,  and  which  the 
reader  cannot  be  supposed  to  have  seen  for  a  twelve- 
month, it  argues  that  the  writer  has  a  more  accurate 
knowledge  of  his  own  works  than  of  human  nature.  My 
readers  would  smile  if  T  were  to  assume  their  recollec- 
tion of  what   I  said  about  a  year  and  a  half  ago,  on  a 

s  2 


260  CAUSES    OF    THE  [NO.  XVI. 

matter  which  they  may  think  of  very  little  importance, 
but  of  which  (it  being  myself)  I  may  be  allowed  to 
form  a  different  estimate.  I  did,  however,  in  the  very 
first  number  of  these  papers,  avow  myself  to  be  of 
rather  a  discursive  turn ;  and  fairly  stated  that  I  should 
be  sure  to  digress,  if  such  a  thing  were  rendered  possi- 
ble by  marking  out  a  plan.  I  have  no  fear  that  any 
one  will  dispute  that  I  so  far  spoke  the  truth.  But  I 
also  said,  that  although  I  had  no  plan,  I  had  a  pur- 
pose, which  I  fully  stated ;  and  that  I  have  actually  been 
following  this  by  something  like  a  train  of  argument, 
may  not  perhaps  be  equally  obvious.  Yet  it  is  really 
true ;  and  as  I  freely  forgive  the  reader  who  may  not 
perceive  it,  so  I  trust  that  if  I  am  honoured  with  any 
reader  so  attentive  as  to  have  kept  it  in  view,  he  will 
pardon  me  if  I  here  very  briefly  advert  to  the  progress 
which  I  consider  myself  as  having  made  in  it,  and  the 
course  which  I  hope  to  pursue. 

As  to  the  knowledge  of  the  Bible  in  the  dark  ages, 
I  stated  in  No.  XII.  an  opinion  that  it  was,  in  fact, 
much  greater  and  more  general  than  some  modern 
writers  would  lead  us  to  suppose.  In  order  to  support 
this,  I  began  with  what  I  did  not  consider  as  the  most 
powerful  argument,  but  yet  as  having  some  weight  for 
proof,  and  some  interest  in  itself, — namely,  the  inci- 
dental notices  of  existing  copies  of  the  Scriptures, 
which  are  scattered  up  and  down  in  the  histories  of 
that  period.  In  the  two  following  papers  I  gave  many 
instances ;  but  though,  with  regard  to  the  notices  of 
parts  of  the  Scriptures,  they  were  so  numerous  that  I 
restricted  myself  to  those  which  challenged  particular 
attention  by  their  intrinsic  value,  or  some  other  pecu- 
liar circumstance,  yet  I  was  afraid  that  even  with  this 
limitation  the  reader  would  feel  the  induction  of  cases 
tedious.  Beside  this,  I  thought  it  possible  that  when 
I  had  even  unduly  trespassed  on  his  patience,  he  might 


NO.  XVI.]  SCARCITY    OF    MSS.  261 

say, — "  Well,  but  now  I  have  counted  up  all  the  Bibles, 
and  Testaments,  and  Gospels,  and  Psalters  which  you 
have  mentioned,  and  I  know  that  in  my  little  parish 
there  are,  at  this  moment,  twice  as  many ;  and  if  they 
were  as  plentiful  then  as  they  are  now,  surely  we  should 
have  more  proofs  of  it  in  existence."  I  might  reply  by 
inquiring,  how  many  of  those  Bibles  in  your  parish  are 
an  hundred,  or  an  hundred  and  fifty,  or  two  hundred 
years  old  ? — or,  more  strictly,  by  asking,  how  many 
of  the  Bibles  which  were  in  the  parish  two  hundred,  or 
one  hundred,  or  fifty  years  ago,  are  there  now  to  prove 
that  they  ever  existed  ? 

But  the  proper  answer  is,  to  call  attention  to  the 
various  causes  of  destruction  which  have  perpetually 
been  at  work.  I  wish,  if  possible,  to  make  the  reader 
partake  of  the  surprise  which  I  unfeignedly  feel,  that 
so  many  manuscripts  have  survived  such  fierce  and  un- 
relenting persecution.  After  this  I  hope  to  proceed  to 
more  direct  evidence  that  the  Scriptures  were  known 
and  read  in  the  dark  ages  than  even  that  which  is 
afforded  by  the  incidental  mention  of  them.  In  the 
meantime,  in  this  digression  (not  from  our  subject,  but 
from  that  particular  argument)  on  the  scarcity  of 
manuscripts,  I  have  mentioned,  in  the  first  place,  the 
ravages  of  war  and  fire ;  and  I  hope  that  I  shall  not  be 
thought  to  have  wasted  time  in  giving  one  or  two  cases 
somewhat  in  detail.  There  are  two  reasons  for  it — 
first,  that  a  very  principal  object  which  I  have  in 
view  is,  to  bring  to  the  reader's  notice,  not  merely  the 
facts,  but  the  writers,  of  the  dark  ages ;  secondly,  that 
it  is  impossible,  without  some  such  consideration  of 
details,  to  understand  and  appreciate  the  few  words  in 
which  some  of  our  literary  travellers  occasionally  speak. 
Without  some  little  reflection,  and,  perhaps  without 
having  our  minds  particularly  called  to  some  such 
eases,    we   should  hardly   form   an   idea   of   what    the) 


262  DESTRUCTION    OF    MSS.  [NO.  XVI. 

mean  to  convey  by  the  few  words  in  which  they  allude 
to  a  whole  string  of  desolations.  It  was  said  of  Corelli 
that  every  stroke  of  his  bow  was  a  mouthful ;  some- 
thing like  it  might  be  said  of  single  sentences  from  the 
pen  of  Father  Martene.     For  instance — 

"  Quoyque  le  bibliotheque  ait  ete  pilliee  en  plusieurs 
occasions,  il  y  reste  encore  un  grand  nombre  de  manu- 
scrits,  presque  tous  anciens  et  fort  beau  V 

At  the  collegiate  church  of  Romans  in  Dauphiny — 
"Elle  a  eu  le  malheur  d'etre  ruinee  six  fois: — 1.  Par 
les  Maures ;  2.  Par  l'Archeveque  Sebon ;  3  et  4.  Par 
le  feu ;  5.  Par  Guigne  Dauphin  dans  le  douzieme 
siecle  ;  et  6.  Par  les  Calvinistes 2." 

The  monastery  of  La  Charite  sur  Loire,  Martene 
tells  us,  "  was  originally  built  half  a  league  from  the 
place  where  it  now  stands,  near  the  ancient  town  of 
Seir,  which  no  longer  exists.  Having  been  destroyed 
by  the  Vandals,  it  was  re-established  by  King  Pepin, 
who  placed  Benedictine  monks  there.  They  did  not 
continue  long,  because  the  place  was  soon  after  de- 
stroyed by  the  barbarians.  Geoffrey  of  Nevers,  Bishop 
of  Auxerre,  having  rebuilt  the  church  in  honour  of  the 
Holy  Virgin,  gave  it  to  Hugh,  Abbot  of  Clugni,  who 
made  it  a  famous  monastery,  and  the  first  in  conse- 
quence among  those  affiliated  to  his  own,  and  gave  the 
government  of  it  to  Girard,  his  prior,  who  is  considered 
a  saint  at  Clugni.  It  is  said,  that  under  that  illustrious 
prior  there  were  two  hundred  monks  at  La  Charite, 
who  were  afterwards  reduced  to  a  hundred  priests  and 
twenty  novices  ;  and  successively  to  ninety,  eighty,  and 
at  length  to  sixty.  This  number  remained  until  the 
time  of  Robert  de  Lenoncour,  the  first  prior  who  held 
it  in  commendam,  who  reduced  them  to  thirty ;  and 
these,  after  the  conflagration  of  the  monastery,  which 


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


NO.  XVI. j  BY    NEGLIGENCE.  *2(>3 

speedily  followed,  were,  if  I  remember  right,  still  fur- 
ther reduced  to  seventeen."  Can  we  wonder  that, 
when  Martene  goes  on  to  tell  us  that,  through  modern 
restoration,  "  Le  monastere  de  la  Charite  se  ressent 
encore  aujourd'hui  de  son  ancienne  splendeur 3,"  he 
should,  nevertheless,  say  nothing  of  the  library,  and 
mention  only  one  manuscript  ? 

At  Sens,  too,  "  L'abbaye  de  Saint  Pierre  le  Vif 
ayant  ete  detruite  neuf  ou  dix  fois,  tant  par  les  bar- 
bares  et  les  ennemis  de  Fetat  que  par  diverses  incen- 
dies,  on  est  surpris  quelle  subsiste  encore  aujourd'hui  V 
This  is  very  true ;  but  one  is  not  surprised  to  hear 
nothing  whatever  of  manuscripts  there. 

Other  instances  will,  however,  come  under  notice 
incidentally;  and  having  said,  perhaps,  more  than 
enough  of  fire  and  sword,  let  me  mention  another 
cause,  perhaps  as  mighty,  and  more  constant,  which 
has  led  to  the  destruction  of  manuscripts. 

II.  A  most  effective  cause  may  be  found  in  the  neg- 
ligence of  those  who  have  had  the  care  of  them.  As 
this  infidelity  to  the  trust  reposed  in  him  by  the 
Author  of  every  good  gift  is  a  sin  of  which  man  has 
been  guilty  in  all  times  and  places,  we  may  very  well 
suppose  that  a  good  many  manuscripts  perished  in  this 
way  during  the  dark  ages,  as  they  certainly  have  done 
since.  Yet  I  think  I  shall  not  be  considered  unfair  if 
I  suggest  the  probability  that  this  cause  was  less  ope- 
rative then  than  it  was  when  books  became  less  scarce 
and  valuable.  I  do  not  want  to  take  advantage  of 
those  exaggerations  as  to  cost  and  rarity  which  I  have 
been  endeavouring  to  expose ;  nor  even  of  the  equally 
fallacious  statements  which  have  been  made  respecting 
the  care  taken,  and  the  precautions  used,  about  single 
volumes,  as  if  they  were  the  only  books  on   earth. 

3  I.  Voy.  Lit.  p.  37.  4  Ibid.  p.  61. 


264  CARE    TAKEN    OF    MSS.  [NO.  XVI 

Warton,  in  that  "  Second  Dissertation "  to  which  I 
have  had  occasion  more  than  once  to  refer,  tells  us  of 
a  bishop  who,  "  in  the  year  1 299,  borrows  of  his  cathe- 
dral convent  of  St.  Swithen,  at  Winchester,  Bibliam 
bene  glossatam, — that  is,  the  Bible  with  marginal  anno- 
tations,— in  two  large  folio  volumes,  but  gives  a  bond 
for  due  return  of  the  loan,  drawn  up  with  great 
solemnity  \"  All  this  is,  I  dare  say,  very  true ;  and, 
in  the  present  day,  it  may  sound  rather  strange  ;  but 
does  he  not  tell  us  that  the  Bible  was  a  bequest  from 
the  bishop's  predecessor  to  the  convent  ?  Ought  they 
to  have  treated  it  just  as  if  it  had  been  a  novel  in  a 
circulating  library? — and  could  the  prelate  who  bor- 
rowed it  be  offended  by  the  care  which  they  took  of 
it  ?  But  when  Warton  goes  on  to  say, — "  When  a 
single  book  was  bequeathed  to  a  friend  or  relation,  it 
was  seldom  without  many  restrictions  and  stipulations," 
— it  is  obviously  more  than  he  can  prove,  and  more 
than  most  people  will  believe.  It  is  a  singular  circum- 
stance that  we  find  another  Bible  just  at  the  same  time 
bequeathed  by  the  Bishop  of  Cambray  to  the  Carthu- 
sians of  Macour,  near  Valenciennes ;  the  bishop  had 
died  in  the  year  1296,  on  his  way  to  the  Holy  Land, 
and  the  monks,  who  received  the  twelve  volumes  by 
the  hands  of  the  Count  of  Hainault,  entered  into  an 
engagement  with  him  not  to  lend  it  without  good 
security ;  and,  in  case  of  their  quitting  that  part  of  the 
country,  to  return  it  to  him 6. 

Such  cases  it  is  worth  while  to  notice,  for  the  legiti- 


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

6  Promittimus  bona  fide,  nos  Bibliam  in  duodecim  voluminibus,  quam 
de  legato  praefati  pontificis  per  manus  potentissimi  principis  domini  Johan- 
nis  de  Avesnis,  Comitis  Hannoniap,  ac  suae  consortis  dominae  Philippae 
Comitissae  nobilissimae  habemus,  hujusmodi  non  vendere,  dare,  vel  impig- 
norare,  seu  accommodare,  nisi  bonum  correspondens  haberemus,  quae- 
cumquc  necessitas  nos  impellat,"  &c. — Mart.  i.  1314. 


NO.  XVI.]         IN  THE  DARK  AGES.  265 

mate  purpose  of  shewing  that  books  existed,  were 
valued,  and  taken  care  of;  and  I  mention  them  the 
more  readily  because  they  relate  to  Bibles.  I  hope  to 
have  occasion  to  refer  to  them  hereafter,  when  we 
shall,  perhaps,  be  led  to  think  that  special  care  was 
taken  of  such  books.  In  the  meantime,  I  am  only 
contending  that,  generally  speaking,  books  were  taken 
care  of;  and  if  these  instances  are  more  recent  than 
the  period  with  which  we  are  engaged,  let  us  get  back 
into  it  by  noticing  the  case  of  a  Gratian,  presented  to 
the  monastery  of  Clairvaux,  by  Alanus,  Bishop  of 
Auxerre  (the  disciple  of  St.  Bernard),  on  condition 
that  it  should  on  no  account  whatsoever  (nulla  neces- 
sitate) be  removed  from  the  monastery  7.  Martene, 
who  relates  the  circumstance,  and  who  would  not  lose 
the  opportunity  of  saying  a  word  or  two  on  the  Bene- 
dictine side  of  the  question  respecting  monastic  studies, 
observes  that  the  monks  of  Clairvaux,  even  in  those 
days,  were  evidently  no  enemies  to  the  study  of  canon 
law.  But  to  this  I  must  add  a  suspicion,  that  books  of 
canon  law  were  peculiarly  apt  to  get  out  of  their  places, 
and  not  to  find  their  way  back.  A  curious  hint  of  this 
is  furnished  by  a  statute  of  Mainerius,  Abbot  of  St. 
Victor's  at  Marseilles,  in  the  year  1198.  After  pre- 
mising the  excellence  and  benefit  of  peace  and  unity, 
especially  among  those  who  are  knit  together  by  the 
love  of  Christ,  and  the  care  which  should  be  taken  to 
prevent  or  to  stop  division,  he  proceeds, — "  Whereas 
all  the  brethren  of  our  monastery  have  complained  that 
certain  of  our  predecessors  took  and  carried  away  at 
their  pleasure,  from  the  library  of  this  church,  which 
hath  been  furnished  by  the  provident  and  diligent  care 
of  the  ancient  fathers  and  abbots,  and  adorned  with 
books  of  divers  arts,  the  books  of  law,  which,  like  the 

7  I.  Voy.  Lit.  p.  103 


266  CARE    TAKEN    OF    MSS.  [NO.  XVI. 

other  books,  belong  to  the  library,  (having,  perhaps, 
been  bequeathed  by  the  devotion  of  individuals,  or 
having  come,  in  some  way  or  other,  to  the  monastery,) 
I,  Mainerius,  by  the  grace  of  God,  abbot  of  the  said 
monastery  of  Marseilles,  having  consulted  with  our 
elders,  have  determined  to  pacificate  and  end  those 
complaints  by  perpetual  peace  and  concord:"  and  he 
then  goes  on  to  order,  that  whatever  books  shall  be 
bequeathed,  or  given,  or  in  any  way  accrue  to  the 
monastery,  shall  be  considered  as  an  inalienable  and 
irremovable  part  of  the  library ;  except  only  the  bre- 
viaries, which  properly  belong  to  the  abbot,  and  the 
missals  for  the  service  of  the  church  8. 

These  cases,  however,  as  well  as  those  cited  by 
Warton,  and  many  others  which  might  be  collected, 
are  rather  specimens  of  individual  character  than  any 
thing  else.  As  to  general  rules,  I  have  in  a  former 
number  given  a  letter  from  the  prior  of  a  monastery  to 
an  intimate  friend,  who  wanted  to  borrow  a  book,  and 
whose  request  led  him  to  state  the  inflexible  rule  of 
the  monastery  not  to  lend  books,  without  receiving 
some  equivalent  volumes  as  a  pledge ;  and  there  can 
be  little  doubt  that  such  regulations  were  very  general. 
"  Our  books,"  says  Ingulph,  who  has  been  sufficiently 
introduced  to  the  reader  in  the  preceding  number,  "  as 
well  the  smaller  unbound  volumes,  as  the  larger  ones 
which  are  bound,  we  altogether  forbid,  and  under  an 
anathema  prohibit,  to  be  lent  to  any  far-distant  schools, 
without  the  leave  of  the  abbot,  and  his  distinct  under- 
standing as  to  the  time  when  they  shall  be  returned. 
As  to  lending  lesser  books,  however,  such  as  Psalters, 
copies  of  Donatus,  Cato,  and  the  like  poetical  works, 
and  the  singing  lesson-books,  to  children  and  the  rela- 
tions of  the  monks,  we  strictly  forbid  the  cantor,  or 

8  M.  &  I),  i.  1020. 


NO.  XVI.]        IN  THE  DARK  AGES.  2G7 

any  one  who  shall  act  as  librarian,  under  pain  of  dis- 
obedience, to  allow  them  to  be  lent  for  a  longer  space 
of  time  than  one  day,  without  leave  of  the  prior. 
Should  any  one  hereafter  presume  so  to  do,  let  him 
remain  in  disgrace  and  incapable  of  office  in  the 
monastery  for  two  years  9."  It  was  also  perhaps  natural 
that  those  who  had  been  at  the  trouble  of  writing  a 
volume  should  over-rate  the  value  of  their  own  labours, 
and  use  such  means  as  they  could  to  prevent  their 
work  from  being  lost,  defaced,  or  even  removed  from 
the  scenes  in  which  it  had  been  for  many  years  in  the 
process  of  elaboration,  the  only  companion  of  the  silent 
and  solitary  artist — solitary,  though,  like  Rodulf,  who 
was  a  monk  of  St.  Wast,  or  Vedastus,  about  a  thousand 
years  ago,  he  might  fancy  that  his  well-pleased  patron- 
saint  was  looking  on,  and  balancing  the  account  of  sins 
and  letters.  A  copy  of  Augustine  on  the  Psalms, 
which  he  wrote,  is  still  extant,  and  contains  a  portrait 
of  himself,  and  some  lines,  part  of  which  I  cite,  not  for 
their  poetical  beauty,  nor  their  orthodoxy,  but  because 
they  express  feelings  which  were,  probably,  not  peculiar 
to  himself;  and  which,  so  far  as  they  extended,  would 
form  a  sufficient  guarantee  for  the  multiplication  and 
preservation  of  books. 

"  Cum  libruni  scribo,  Vedastus  ab  aethere  summo, 
Respicit  e  ccelis  quot  aretur  pagina  sulcis, 
Quot  folium  punctis  hinc  hinc  laceretur  acutis, 
Tuncque  favens  operi  nostro,  nostroque  labori, 
Grammata  quot  sulci,  quot  sunt  quot  denique  puncti 
Inquit,  in  hoc  libro,  tot  crimina  jam  tibi  dono. 
Hancque  potestatem  dat  Christus  habere  perennem. 
Nee  labor  iste  tibi,  frater,  jam  proderit  uni, 
Sed  queiscumque  velis  detur  pars  magna  laboris. 
Hacc  merces  operis,  quam  dat  scriptoribus  ipsis 
Sanctus  Vedastus,  pater  optimus,  atque  benignus, 
Hac  mercede  librum  perscripsi  sedulus  istum, 
Quem  si  quis  tollat,  tellus  huic  ima  dehiscat, 
Virus  et  infernum  petat  amplis  ignibus  atrum.     Fiat,  fiat 10." 

1  Ing.  ap.  Gale,  p.  104.  11.  Voy.  Lit.  64. 


2G8  CARE    TAKEN    OF    MSS.  [NO.  XVI. 

One  would  almost  imagine  that  this  monk,  instead 
of  belonging  to  the  Flemish  monastery  of  St.  Wast,  had 
been  a  disciple  of  Theodoric,  Abbot  of  St.  Evroul  in 
Normandy,  two  hundred  years  later, — that  is,  in  the 
middle  of  the  eleventh  century.  Of  this  abbot  we  are 
told — 

"  Ipse  manu  propria  scribendo  volumina  plura 
Ecclesia?  natis,  dedit  exemplum  bonitatis ;" — 

and  therein  he,  no  doubt,  did  well ;  but  when  to 
example  he  added  exhortation,  he  seems  to  have  gone 
too  far.  I  am  not  praising,  or  even  palliating  his  con- 
duct, and  I  only  notice  it  because  it  is  evident  that 
"  the  love  he  bore  to  learning  was  in  fault ;"  and  it  is  a 
principal  part  of  our  business  to  trace  that  spirit,  even 
though  it  be  manifested  in  error.  He  used,  we  are 
told,  to  lecture  his  monks  against  idleness,  and  "also 
he  was  wont  to  tell  them  this  story : — 

M  There  was  a  monk  in  a  certain  monastery  who  was  guilty 
of  many  transgressions  against  its  rules ;  but  he  was  a  writer, 
and  being  devoted  to  writing,  he  of  his  own  accord  wrote  out 
an  enormous  volume  of  the  divine  law.  After  his  death,  his 
soul  was  brought  before  the  tribunal  of  the  just  judge  for 
judgment ;  and  when  the  evil  spirits  sharply  accused  him, 
and  brought  forward  his  innumerable  crimes,  the  holy  angels, 
on  the  other  hand,  shewed  the  book  which  that  monk  had 
written  in  the  house  of  God,  and  counted  up  the  letters  of 
that  enormous  volume  as  a  set-off  against  the  like  number  of 
sins.  At  length  the  letters  had  a  majority  of  only  one, 
against  which,  however,  the  daemons  in  vain  attempted  to 
object  any  sin.  The  clemency  of  the  Judge,  therefore, 
spared  the  monk,  and  commanded  his  soul  to  return  to  his 
body,  and  mercifully  granted  him  space  for  the  reformation 
of  his  life.  Frequently  think  of  this,  most  dear  brethren  ; 
cleanse  your  hearts  from  vain  and  noxious  desires ;  con- 
stantly offer  the  sacrifice  of  the  works  of  your  hands  to  the 
Lord  God.  Shun  idleness,  with  all  your  power,  as  a  deadly 
poison  ;  for,  as  our  holy  father  Benedict  says, — c  Idleness  is 
the  enemy  of  the  soul.1  And  frequently  consider,  also,  what 
is  said  by  a  certain  approved  doctor,  in  the  Lives  of  the 
Fathers,  — that    only  one    devil   tempts  a    monk   who   is  em- 


NO.  XVI.]         IN  THE  DARK  AGES.  269 

ployed  in  any  good  occupation,  while  a  thousand  devils 
attack  him  who  is  idle,  and  drive  him,  when  stung  with 
innumerable  darts  of  temptation,  to  grow  weary  of  his 
monastery,  to  desire  the  injurious  pomps  of  the  world,  and 
to  make  trial  of  noxious  pleasures.  And  since  you  cannot 
support  the  poor  with  large  alms  (for  you  have  no  earthly 
riches)  and  cannot  build  large  churches,  as  kings  and  other 
great  secular  persons  do,  you,  who  are  shut  up  within  the 
rules  of  the  cloister,  and  are  deprived  of  all  power,  should,  at 
least,  as  Solomon  exhorts,  l  Keep  your  hearts  with  all  dili- 
gence,1 and  continually  use  every  endeavour  to  please  God. 
Pray,  read,  chant,  write,  and  employ  yourselves  in  other 
things  of  the  same  kind,  and  with  them  wisely  arm  your- 
selves against  the  temptations  of  evil  spirits  V 

Those  who  wrote  under  the  influence  of  such  feelings 
as  an  address  like  this  was  calculated  to  produce,  might 
very  naturally  add  to  their  manuscript  something  like 
an  anathema  against  any  person  who  should  destroy  or 
deface  their  labours.  Thus  the  writer  of  a  manuscript 
in  the  library  of  St.  Gal — 


1  Odericus  Vitalis,  quoted  by  Mab.  A.  S.  ix.  137-  I  cannot  mention 
this  old  abbot  without  adding,  from  the  same  authority,  on  the  page  pre- 
ceding that  just  quoted,  a  few  more  words  respecting  his  writing  himself, 
and  being  the  cause  of  writing  in  others. — "  Ipse  scriptor  erat  egregius,  et 
inclita  sibi  insitae  artis  monimenta  reliquit  Uticanis  juvenibus.  Collecta- 
neum  enim  et  Gradale,  ac  Antiphonarium  propria  manu  in  ipso  ccenobio 
conscripsit.  A  sociis  etiam  suis,  qui  secum  de  Gemetico  venerant,  pre- 
tiosos  divinae  legis  codices  dulcibus  monitis  exegit.  Nam  Rodulfus  nepos 
ejus  Eptaticum  [Heptateuchum]  conscripsit,  et  Missale  ubi  Missa  in  con- 
ventu  quotidie  canitur.  Hugo  autem  socius  ejus  expositionem  (Gregorii 
Magni)  super  Ezechielem  et  Decalogum,  primamque  partem  Moralium ; 
Rogerius  vero  presbyter  Paralipomenon,  librosque  Salomonis,  tertiamque 
partem  Moralium.  Proefatus  itaque  Pater  per  supradictos,  et  per  alios, 
quos  ad  hoc  opus  flectere  poterat,  antiquarios,  octo  annis  quibus  Uticen- 
sibus  praefuit,  omnes  libros  veteris  et  novi  Testamenti,  omnesque  libros 
facundissimi  Papae  Gregorii  Uticensium  bibliothecae  procuravit.  Ex  ejus 
etiam  schola  excellentes  librarii ;  id  est  Berengarius,  qui  postea  ad  episco- 
patum  Venusiae  provectus  est,  Goscelinus  et  Rodulfus,  Bernardus,  Tur- 
chetillus,  et  Richardus,  aliique  plures  processerunt,  qui  tractatibus  Hiero- 
nymi  et  Augustini,  Ambrosii  et  Isidori,  Eusebii  et  Orosii,  aliorumque  doc- 
torum,  bibliothecam  sancti  Ebrulfi  repleverunt,  et  exemplis  suis  ad  simile 
studium  secuturam  juventutem  salubriter  exhortati  sunt." 


270  CARE    TAKEN    OF    MSS.  [NO.  XVI. 

"  Auferat  hunc  librum  nullus  hinc  omne  per  a?vum 
Cum  Gallo  partem  quisquis  habere  cupit 2." 

The  same  terrible  imprecations  were  occasionally  an- 
nexed by  the  donors  or  the  possessors  of  books.  As  in 
a  Sacramentary  which  Martene  found  at  St.  Benoit-sur- 
Loire,  and  which  he  supposed  to  belong  to  the  ninth 
century.  The  donor  (whose  name  appears  to  have 
been  erased)  having  sent  the  volume  as  a  present  from 
beyond  seas,  fiercely  anathematizes  all  persons  who 
should  on  any  pretence  remove  it  from  the  monastery 
without  the  intention  of  returning  it,  devoting  them  to 
the  like  destruction  with  Judas,  Annas,  and  Caiaphas3. 
One  may  suppose  that  books  containing  such  awful 
imprecations  were  the  less  likely  to  be  stolen,  and  the 
more  likely  to  be  returned  if  they  did  get  astray. 
Indeed,  it  was  enough  to  frighten  the  possessor  of  a 
book,  however  honestly  he  might  have  come  by  it. 
There  is  a  curious  instance  of  this  in  a  manuscript  of 
some  of  the  works  of  Augustine  and  Ambrose  in  the 
Bodleian  library  : — "  This  book  belongs  to  St.  Mary  of 
Robert's  Bridge :  whosoever  shall  steal  it,  or  sell  it,  or 
in  any  way  alienate  it  from  this  house,  or  mutilate  it, 
let  him  be  anathema-maranatha.  Amen."  And  under- 
neath there  follows,  in  another  hand — "  I,  John,  Bishop 
of  Exeter,  know  not  where  the  aforesaid  house  is,  nor 
did  I  steal  this  book,  but  acquired  it  in  a  lawful  way 4." 


2  Canis.  Ant.  Lect.  torn.  ii.  P.  iii.  p.  230. 

3  I.  Voy.  Lit.  p.  67-  "  Ut  si  quis  eum  de  monasterio  aliquo  ingenio 
non  redditurus  abstraxerit,  cum  Juda  proditore,  Anna,  et  Caipha,  por- 
tionem  aeterna?  damnationis  accipiat.     Amen,  amen.     Fiat,  fiat." 

4  "  Liber  S.  Mariae  de  Ponte  Roberti,  qui  eum  abstulerit,  aut  vendiderit, 
vel  quolibet  modo  ab  hac  domo  alienaverit,  vel  quamlibet  ejus  partem 
absciderit,  sit  anathema  maranatha.  Amen.  Aliena  manu.  Ego,  Joannes, 
Exon  Epus,  nescio  ubi  est  domus  predicta,  nee  hunc  librum  abstuli,  sed 
modo  legitimo  adquisivi."  Wanley  (Cat.  Lib.  Sept.  p.  152,)  adds,  "  Hie 
fuit  Joannes  Grandisonus,  Exoniensis  Episcopus,  qui  floruit  circa  a.  d. 
1327."  Robert's  Bridge  was  a  Cistercian  monastery,  founded  by  Robertus 


NO.  XVI.]         IN  THE  DARK  AGES.  271 

As  to  our  present  point,  however,  it  will,  I  appre- 
hend, be  readily  conceded,  that  more  care  was  taken 
of  manuscripts  during  the  period  with  which  we  are 
engaged  than  afterwards, — that  is  to  say,  more  care 
was  taken  during  what  is  generally  considered  as  the 
darkest  period  than  during  that  which  followed ;  and 
though  the  time  when  manuscripts  came  to  be  under- 
valued and  destroyed  by  wholesale  was  that  which 
followed  on  the  invention  of  printing,  yet  that  time 
had  been  prepared  for  by  a  long  period  of  gradually 
increasing  laxity  of  discipline  and  morals  in  monastic 
institutions.  There  had,  I  apprehend,  long  been  less 
multiplication,  less  care,  less  use,  of  books ;  and  many 
a  fine  collection  had  mouldered  away.  There  is  a  pas- 
sage, which  it  may  be  worth  while  to  transcribe  from 
one  of  John  of  Trittenheim's  (or  Trithemius)  exhorta- 
tions, delivered  to  his  monks  when  he  was  abbot  of 
Spanheim,  in  the  year  1486 : — 

"  Do  you  not  know,"  he  says,  "  that  our  holy  lawgiver 
Benedict  says,  in  the  rule, — l  If  any  one  shall  do  the  busi- 
ness of  the  convent  in  a  slovenly  or  negligent  manner,  let 
him  be  punished ;  and  if  he  does  not  amend,  let  him  be  sub- 
jected to  regular  discipline  V  And  in  his  chapter  on  the 
cellarer  of  the  monastery,  he  says, — '  Let  him  look  on  the 
vessels  of  the  monastery,  and  all  its  property,  as  if  they  were 
the  consecrated  vessels  of  the  altar."*  In  short,  I  cannot,  and, 
undoubtedly,  I  should  not,  refrain  from  saying  in  how  slo- 
venly and  negligent  a  way  most  of  you  do  everything ;  as  if 
they  either  were  not  observed  by  God,  or  as  if  their  sloth  did 
no  injury  to  the  affairs  of  the  monastery.  Know,  my  bre- 
thren, what  I  give  you  notice  of  beforehand,  that  for  all  these 
things,  as  well  as  for  your  other  sins,  you  must  give  an 
account  to  the  Lord  God.  For  this  reason  I  have  diminished 
your  labours  out  of  the  monastery,  lest  by  working  badly  you 


de  Sancto  Martino  in  1176.  a  few  miles  north  of  Battle,  in  Sussex,  (1  Dug. 
916,)  and  consisting  at  its  surrender  an.  29  Hen.  VIII.  of  an  abbot  and 
eight  monks.     Burnet,  Rec.  to  Book  iii.  No.  i.  vol.  i.  p.  135. 


272  DESTRUCTION    OF    MSS.  [NO.  XVI. 

should  only  add  to  your  sins ;  and  have  enjoined  on  you  the 
manual  labour  of  writing  and  binding  books.  These,  and 
similar  occupations,  you  may  carry  on  with  tranquillity  of 
mind  and  body,  within  the  inclosure  of  the  monastery.  I 
wish  that  you  may  diligently  perform  even  these  works  of 
your  hands  for  the  love  of  God,  lest  you  eat  the  bread  of 
idleness.  There  is,  in  my  opinion,  no  manual  labour  more 
becoming  a  monk  than  the  writing  of  ecclesiastical  books, 
and  preparing  what  is  needful  for  others  who  write  them ; 
for  this  holy  labour  will  generally  admit  of  being  interrupted 
by  prayer,  and  of  watching  for  the  food  of  the  soul  no  less 
than  of  the  body.  Need,  also,  urges  us  to  labour  diligently 
in  writing  books,  if  we  desire  to  have  at  hand  the  means  of 
usefully  employing  ourselves  in  spiritual  studies.  For  you 
see,  that  all  the  library  of  this  monastery,  which  formerly  was 
fine  and  large,  has  been  so  dissipated,  sold,  and  made  away 
with,  by  the  disorderly  monks  before  us,  that  when  I  came  I 
found  but  fourteen  volumes.  It  is  true  that  the  industry  of 
the  printing  art,  lately,  in  our  own  day,  discovered  at  Mentz, 
produces  many  volumes  every  day;  but  it  is  impossible  for 
us,  depressed  as  we  are  by  poverty,  to  buy  them  all." — f.  xvi. 

I  fear  that  this  was  no  solitary  instance,  and  that  of 
many  places  it  might  be  said,  as  Martene  says  of  the 
cathedral  at  Auxerre,  that,  beside  other  causes,  "  La 
negligence  des  anciens  moines  ont  dissipe  un  si  grand 
nombre  de  manuscrits  qu'il  n'en  reste  aujourd'hui  que 
fort  peu 5," — though  I  apprehend  that  those  whom  he 
here  called  ancient,  should,  in  our  inquiry,  be  termed 
modern,  monks.  But  passing  over  all  the  revival 
period,  and  all  the  shocking  stories  of  the  state  in 
which  the  manuscripts  were  found  6,  what  did  Martene 

5  Voy.  Lit.  56. 

6  Only,  as  we  have  noticed  Montfaucon's  journey  into  Italy,  in  the*year 
1G93,  I  must  just  give  his  description  of  the  state  in  which  he  found  the 
celebrated  (said  to  be  autograph)  manuscript  of  St.  Mark's  gospel ;  which, 
without  admitting  all  its  claims,  he  declares  to  have  as  great  appearance  of 
antiquity  as  he  recollected  to  have  seen  in  any  manuscript : — "  Folia  agglu- 
tinata  simul  sunt  et  putrida,  ut  non  facile  possint  diduci  sine  fractione ; 
nam  locus  perquam  humidus,  et  brevi  periturus  funditus  est  codex  si  istic 
maneat." — Diar.  It.  p.  55. 


NO.  XVI.]  BY    NEGLIGENCE.  273 

himself  find  in  the  eighteenth  century?     Several  hints 
in  his  literary  travels  shew  us,  that  many  of  the  manu- 
scripts which  he  found  were  in  the  hands  of  persons  by 
no  means  sensible  of  their  value.     At  the  archives  of 
the  cathedral    of  Narbonne   he   and  his   companions 
found  "  un  fort  beau  manuscrit  ....  dont  on  ne  faisoit 
pas  grand  cas:  mais  l'estime  que  nous  en  fismes,  re- 
veilla  le  soin  des  chanoines  pour  le  conserver7."     At 
Albi,  "  beaucoup  d'anciens  manuscrits  que  nous  trou- 
vames  la  plupart  en  tres  mauvais  etat.     L'estime  que 
nous  en  fimes  fit  ouvrir  les  yeux  aux  chanoines,  qui  les 
meprisoient;  et  ils  nous  promirent  d'en  avoir  plus  de 
soin  a  l'avenir.     La  plupart  sont  de  900,  800,  ou  700 
ans 8."     At   the   Abbey   of  St.   Martial   at    Limoges, 
"  on  y  conserve  encore  pres  de  deux  cens  manuscrits, 
la  plupart  des  saints  peres,   sur-tout  de  S.  Ambroise, 
S.  Jerome,  S.  Augustine,  S.  Gregoire,  monumens  du 
travail  des  saints  moines  Benedictins  qui  ont  autrefois 
sanctifie  cette  abbaye,  et  edifie  le  pais,  mais  aujourd'hui 
fort  negligee  par  les  chanoines 9."     I  beg  the  reader  to 
understand  that  I  am  responsible  for  the  italics,  which 
Martene  did  not  think  of  putting ;  but  I  do  it  as  the 
shortest  way  of  conveying  a  hint  which  I  do  not  feel  it 
fair  to  suppress.     All  these  stories  are  of  canons,  and 
the  author  is  a  monk ;  and  from  that  fact  I  would  draw 
two  inferences, — first,  that  there  might  be  some  little 
prejudice,  if  not  malice,  (shall  I  say  colouring  ? — hardly, 
I  hope,  in  stories  told  at  the  time,  to  say  nothing  about 
character,)  in  the  relation  of  these  facts,  and  that  there- 
fore we  must  not  overstrain  the  statements ;  secondly, 
that,  although  we  do  not  find  them  recorded,  there 
may,  perhaps,  have  been  a  similar  set  of  stories  respect- 
ing monks,  if  we  really  knew  all,  and  so  our  present 
argument  would  be  strengthened.     Be  this  as  it  may, 


'  I.  Voy.  Lit.  P.  ii.  p.  62.  8  Ibid.  p.  67.  9  Ibid.  p.  69. 

T 


274  DESTRUCTION    OF    MSS.  [NO.  XVI. 

however,  i  make  the  former  of  these  remarks  not  so 
much  with  reference  to  the  cases  already  mentioned, 
as  to  a  case  which  I  must  give  in  Martene's  own 
words.  I  do  not  know  that  we  can  suspect  it  of  being 
much  coloured,  but,  making  every  deduction,  it  is  quite 
awful.  The  holy  chapel  at  Bourges  was  originally 
founded  by  John,  duke  of  that  city,  in  the  year  1405, 
for  thirteen  canons,  thirteen  chaplains,  thirteen  vicars, 
and  six  clerks  of  the  choir,  and  enjoyed  a  quasi-episco- 
pal jurisdiction.  "  Next  to  the  cathedral,"  says  Mar- 
tene,  "  the  holy  chapel  holds  the  first  rank  in  the  city 
of  Bourges ;"  and,  after  telling  us  that  "  Le  tresor  est 
tres  riche,"  and  recounting  matters  of  gold  and  silver, 
pearls  and  precious  stones,  vases  of  agate  and  rock 
crystal,  he  goes  on  to  say — 

"  There  was  once  a  rich  library  at  the  holy  chapel ;  and  in 
order  that  the  books  might  not  be  dispersed,  the  holy  pon- 
tiffs had  excommunicated  all  who  should  remove  them.  On 
this  account  the  cardinal  Amboise,  legate  of  the  holy  see, 
when  he  wanted  St.  Hilary's  commentaries  on  the  Psalms, 
employed  all  his  authority  to  obtain  them,  and  was  moreover 
obliged  to  give  the  canons  absolution  from  those  censures 
which  they  would  have  incurred  by  lending  them.  This  we 
learn  from  the  following  letter  of  the  cardinal,  which  I  copy 
from  the  original ." 

In  this  letter,  which  Martene  gives  at  length,  the 
cardinal,  after  referring  to  his  wish  to  borrow  the  book, 
and  the  difficulty  which  lay  in  the  way,  says — 

"  We  therefore  absolve  you  from  all  censures  and  pains  to 
which  you  may  be  exposed  by  the  removal  of  this  book  ;  and, 
by  the  authority  with  which  we  are  invested  and  empowered, 
we  declare  you  to  be  absolved ;  the  said  bull,  or  anything  else 
to  the  contrary,  notwithstanding.  Given  at  Bourges,  the 
3rd  of  March,  1507." 

What  Martene  professes  to  have  found,  however,  at 
the  holy  chapel,  after  the  march  of  intellect  had  gone 


NO.  XVI.]  BY    NEGLIGENCE.  275 

on  just  two  hundred  and  one  years  from   that  time,  I 
must  really  give  in  his  own  words : — 

"  Ces  bulles  n'ont  point  einpeche  ces  manuscrits  d'etre  dis- 
persez  dans  la  suite.  II  en  reste  pourtant  encore  environ 
cinquante  ou  soixante,  que  j'eus  la  curiosite  de  voir.  Mon- 
sieur le  procureur  du  chapitre  me  fit  ouvrir  le  lieu  ou  ils 
etoient  conservez.  Je  les  trouvai  dans  un  etat  pitoyable, 
parce  que  le  receveur  du  chapitre,  a  qui  on  avoit  confie  la 
clef  de  ce  lieu,  en  avoit  fait  un  poullalier ;  et  que  comme  ils 
etoient  ouverts  sur  des  pupitres,  les  poules  les  avoient  cou- 
verts  d'ordures.  Lorsque  je  commeneois  a  les  manier,  Mon- 
sieur Fabbe  Desosiers,  a  qui  il  appartient  d'en  avoir  soin,  me 
vint  trouver;  il  ne  fut  pas  moins  chagrin  que  moy  de  les 
trouver  en  cet  etat,  et  fit  a  Theure  meme  netoyer  la  lieu  et 
les  livres,  et  me  promet  de  faire  relier  ceux  qui  en  auroient 
besoin.  L'un  des  plus  curieux  manuscrits  de  la  sainte  cha- 
pelle,  est  celui  qu^on  appelle  les  heures  du  Due  Jean.  (Test 
un  pseautier  latin  avec  une  version  angloise  de  six  ou  sept 
cens  ans.  Ceux  qui  me  la  montrerent,  croyoient  que  c^etoit 
d^allemand  ou  de  Thebreu.  Mais  si-tot  que  je  Feus  vu,  je 
connus  le  caractere  Anglo-Saxon  V 

Oh,  the  ignorance,  the  carelessness,  the  barbarian 
stupidity  of  the  monks  in  the  dark  ages ! — how  hateful 
does  it  look  beside  this  reverent  and  enlightened  watch- 
fulness of  the  eighteenth  century ! 

1  Voy.  Lit.  p.  28. 


T  2 


27G 


No.  XVII. 

"  We  have  set  Dunce  in    Boccardo,   and   have  utterly   banished  him 

Oxford  for  ever, and  the  second  time  we  came  to  New  College, 

after  we  had  declared  their  injunctions,  we  found  all  the  great  quadrant- 
court  full  of  the  leaves  of  Dunce,  the  winds  blowing  them  into  e very- 
corner,  and  there  we  found  one  Mr.  Greenfeld,  of  Buckinghamshire, 
gathering  part  of  the  said  book-leaves  (as  he  said)  therewith  to  make  him 
scuels,  or  blaunsheers,  to  keep  the  deer  within  the  wood,  thereby  to  have 
the  better  cry  with  his  hounds." — Commis.  Layton  to  Sec  Cromwel, 
Sept.  1535. 

"  Colleges,  originally  of  popish  institution,  like  all  contrivances  of  that 
masterpiece  of  human  policy,  bear  upon  the  great  scheme  of  mastering 
down  the  human  mind  to  an  acquiescence  in  the  craft." — Christian 
Examiner,  July,  1836. 

If  the  reader  has  fairly  considered  the  probable 
effects  of  war  and  fire,  aided  by  the  more  slow  and 
silent,  but  incessant  operation  of  time,  assisted  by  damp 
and  all  the  auxiliaries  which  he  has  employed  when 
the  negligence  of  man  has  left  manuscripts  at  his 
mercy — if  he  has  reflected  that  more  than  six  hundred 
years  have  elapsed  since  the  close  of  that  period  of 
which  we  are  speaking,  during  all  which  time  the  work 
of  destruction  has  been  going  on — if  he  has  at  all 
realized  these  facts,  surely  I  might  confidently  appeal 
to  him  whether  it  is  very  far  short  of  a  miracle,  that 
any  manuscripts  of  that  or  of  an  earlier  period  should 
have  survived  to  the  present  time  ?  Whether  it  is  not 
absurd  to  talk  of  scarcity  (at  least  to  reason  from  it  to 
former  conditions)  while  hundreds,  nay,  thousands,  of 
such  manuscripts  repose  in  our  libraries?  Yet  I 
should  be  doing  great  injustice  to  the  subject  if  I  did 
not  mention  another  cause,  which  has  probably  been  as 
operative  as  either  of  those  already  adverted  to;  if, 
indeed,  I  ought  not  rather  to  say,  more  efficient  than  all 
of  them  put  together.  I  speak,  perhaps,  with  prejudice  ; 
for  I  certainly    feel   strongly   on   this   point.     Of  the 


NO.  XVII.]  LOSS   OF   MSS.  277 

desolations  of  war  and  fire,  I  have  heard  tell ;  and, 
should  the  reader  "  bid  me  discourse,"  I  could,  I  think, 
persuade  him  that  I  have  been  mercifully  brief  on  the 
subject ;  but  I  have  seen  nothing  of  them — not  even 
the  Cottonian  Library ;  and  to  the  reader,  probably,  as 
well  as  myself,  these  matters  are  mere  hearsay — 
"  demissa  per  aurem."  But  other  proofs  of  destruction, 
from  other  sources,  are  constantly  at  hand,  and  I  could 
set  them  before  his  eyes.  Of  all  the  thousands  of 
manuscripts  burned  by  war  or  by  accident,  by  Danes, 
or  Hungarians,  or  housemaids  ',  the  ashes  are  dis- 
persed, and  no  trace  remains.  Those  that  were  not 
found  by  Ambrose  of  Camaldoli,  a  mouldering  part  of 
general  desolation 2 — those  that  were  not  rescued  by 
Poggio  when  he  drew  Quintilian  to  light  from  a  dark 
and  filthy  dungeon 3 — those  that  were  not  saved  by 


1  "  Bp.  Earle's  Latin  translation  of  Hooker's  books  of  Ecclesiastical 
Polity,"  says  Dr.  Smith,  in  a  letter  to  Hearne,  "  which  was  his  entertain- 
ment during  part  of  his  exile  at  Cologne,  is  utterly  destroyed  by  prodi- 
gious heedlessness  and  carelessness ;  for  it  being  written  in  loose  papers, 
only  pinned  together,  and  put  into  a  trunk  unlocked  after  his  death,  and 
being  looked  upon  as  refuse  and  waste  paper,  the  servants  lighted  their 
fire  with  them,  or  else  put  them  under  their  bread  and  their  pies,  as  often 
as  they  had  occasion." — Letters  of  Eminent  Persons  from  the  Bodleian. 
Vol.  I.  p.  140. 

2  Mabillon  says  of  his  call  at  the  monastery  of  Crypta-ferrata,  "  Festi 
occasio  in  causa  fuit,  ut  reliquias  librorum  videre  non  potuerimus.  Verum 
Ambrosius  Camaldulensis  qui  ejusdem  rei  causa  ohm  eo  se  contulerat, 
nihil  reperit  praeter  ruinas  ingentes  parietum  et  morum,  librosque  ferme 
putres  atque  conscissos." — It.  Ital.  87.  I  presume  that  the  words  in  italics 
belong  to  Ambrose,  though  Mabillon  does  not  give  any  reference.  He 
certainly  says  much  the  same  in  one  of  his  letters,  "  ea  tamen  quae  vidimus 
ita  dissipata  et  concissa  et  putrida  erant,  ut  miserabilem  omnino  faciem 

praeferrent monasterium  omne  circuivimus,  immo  non  jam  monas- 

terium,  sed  ruinas  lacrymabiles  lacrymati  sumus :  sola  ferme  ecclesia  inte- 
gra,  quae  et  ipsa  fimo  plena  videbatur.  Servat  tamen  plurima  vestigia 
antiqua?  dignitatis.  Verum  ista  coram  melius  explicabimus."  —  M.  <y  D. 
III.  544. 

3  "  Ibi  inter  confertissimam  librorum  copiam,  quos  longum  esset  recen- 
sere,  Quintilianum  reperimus,  adhuc  salvum  et  incolumem,  plenum  tamen 
situ,  et  pulvere  refertum.    Erant  enim  in  bibliothcca  libri  illi,  non  ut  eorum 


278  LOSS   OF   MSS.  [no.  XVII. 

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

dignitas  postulabat,  sed  in  teterrimo  quodam  et  obscuro  carcere,  fundo 
scilicet  unius  turris,  quo  ne  vita  quidem  damnati  detruderentur." — Ap.  It' 
Ital.  211. 

4  "  Is  enim,  quia  in  variis  sibi  subjectis  Calabria?  monasteriis  codices 
istos,  obsoleto  pene  Grseca?  lingua?  usu,  jacere  intactos  neglectosque  acce- 
perat,  imminentiyara  [that  is,  in  the  latter  part  of  the  seventeenth  century,] 
exitio  subduxit  inque  Urbem  advehi  in  usum  eruditorum  curavit." — Diar. 
Ital.  211.  Montfaucon,  in  the  next  paragraph,  mentions  a  curious  cir- 
cumstance respecting  the  destruction  of  manuscripts.  The  Archbishop  of 
Rossano  told  him  that  his  see  had  formerly  possessed  a  vast  number  of 
Greek  documents  (ingentem  diplomatum  Grsecorum  numerum),  as  had 
been  stated  by  Ughelli  in  his  Italia  Sacra ;  but  that  one  of  his  predecessors 
had  fairly  buried  them,  to  be  rid  of  the  trouble  occasioned  by  persons 
coming  to  inspect  them ;  "  perta?sum  adventantium  frequentia?,  rogan- 
tiumque  ut  diplomata  proferrentur,  suffodi  omnia  et  in  perniciem  ire 
curasse."  Can  one  conceive  how  Father  Montfaucon  looked  on  hearing 
this  ?  Perhaps  (so  far  as  the  two  men  could  look  alike)  very  much  as 
Mabillon  did,  when,  in  hunting  over  the  library  at  Monte  Casino  for  the 
life  of  St.  Placidus,  he  found  the  most  ancient  of  the  three  lives — itself  a 
MS.  of  the  tenth  century — not  as  book,  but  as  the  binding  of  books — 

*  Prima?  vita?  folia  ante  annos  septingentos  descripta  ad  compingendos 
alios  codices  detracta  invenimus." — It.  Ital.  125. — See  Note  C. 

5  The  correspondent  of  the  Baron  de  Crassier,  whom  I  have  al- 
ready had  occasion  to  quote,  and  to  whom  I  shall  have  to  refer 
again  presently,  says, — "  Pendant  mon  sejour  a  Wirtzbourg  j'ai  vu  M. 
Siegler,  secretaire  du  conseil  ecclesiastique  ....  II  a  encore  une  collec- 
tion des  chartres  le  plus  anciennes  de  l'abbaye  de  Fulde,  avec  les  sceaux 
des  anciens  empereurs  et  rois  tres-bien  dessinez :  mais  ce  qui  va  vous  sur- 
prendre,  est  qu'ayant  depuis  peu,  de  la  permission  de  Monsieur  le  Baron 
de  Hutten,  grand  doyen  de  la  cathedrale,  fouille  sous  les  toits  de  cette 
eglise,  il  y  a  trouve  un  tresor  consistant  en  manuscrits,  qui  etoient  entitle- 
ment oublies,  et  que  Ton  croit  y  avoir  reste  cachez  depuis  la  guerre  de 
Suede,  si  pas  plus  long-tems.  Ces  manuscrits,  dont  je  n'ai  scu.  voir  que 
quelques-uns,  sont  des  plus  anciens  et  la  plupart  ecrits :  cum  Uteris  semi- 
uncialibus  sans  interponctions.  Entre  autres  un  codex  Justiniani  que  je 
crois  etre  du  terns  de  cet  empereur." — II.  Voy.  Lit.  176.  Is  it  improbable 
that  many  such  cases  may  have  occurred  ?  Ingulph,  for  instance,  tells  us 
that  when  his  old  enemy,  Yvo  Tailbois,  (hostis  semper  noster  implacabilis) 


NO.  XVII.]  BY    IGNORANCE.  279 

those  that  brutal  stupidity  buried,  have  perished. 
What  the  rats  have  eaten  we  know  not ;  what  the 
deep  sea  has  swallowed  we  cannot  tell,  and  seldom 
think  of.  All  those  are  gone  without  memorial,  except 
such  scattered  notices  as  may  be  gleaned  from  the  sur- 
vivors. But  there  are  thousands  equally  destroyed — 
thousands  of  murdered  wretches  not  so  completely 
annihilated ;  their  ghosts  do  walk  the  earth — they 
glide,  unseen,  into  our  libraries,  our  studies,  our  very 
hands — they  are  all  about  and  around  us — we  even 
take  them  up,  and  lay  them  down,  without  knowing  of 
their  existence ;  unless  time  and  damp  (as  if  to  punish, 
and  to  mock,  us  for  robbing  them  of  their  prey)  have 
loosed  their  bonds,  and  set  them  to  confront  us.  But 
to  speak  soberly : — 

IV.  To  the  causes  already  mentioned,  we  must  add 
ignorance,  cupidity,  dishonesty — they  may  all  go  toge- 
ther, for  in  some  cases  it  may  be  difficult  to  say  how 
much  should  be  ascribed  to  one  cause,  how  much  to 
another.  Nor  is  it  very  material.  When  we  read, 
for  instance,  "  II  y  avoit  autrefois  un  assez  bon  nombre 
de  manuscrits  au  Val  St.  Lambert,  mais  la  pi  11  part  ont 
este  vendus  ou  perdus  6,"  it  is  of  no  great  consequence 
to  settle  how  far  any  one  of  these  causes  preponderated, 
or  how  far  ignorance  (if  it  had  anything  to  do  with  the 
business)  was  that  passive  ignorance  of  whose  effects  I 
have  already  spoken,  or  that  more  homely  and  honest 


tried  first  to  take  advantage  of  what  he  supposed  to  be  a  total  loss  of  docu- 
ments by  the  fire  at  Croyland,  and  then  by  a  desperate  effort  to  possess 
himself  of  those  which  he  found  to  be  in  existence,  he  thought  it  best  to 
place  them  in  secure  concealment — "  Ego  autem  audita  tanta  hostis  nostri 
malitia,  tarn  contra  incendia  quam  contra  talia  machinamenta  hostilia, 
assumtas  chartas  nostras  posui  sub  tarn  secura  custodia,  quod  vita  mea 
comite  nee  ignis  consumet  nee  adversarius  surripiet,  Domino  nostro  Jesu 
Christo,  ac  beato  Patrono  nostro  Sanctissimo  Guthlaco  propitiantibus  et 
protegentibus  servos  suos,  prout  finniter  ego  credo." ■-  Ap.  Gale.  I.  107. 
r'  II.  Voy.  Lit.  195. 


280  LOSS    OF    MSS.    BY  [NO.  XVII. 

ignorance  whose  desolations  we  are  now  to  trace.  On 
reading  such  a  notice,  one  would,  indeed,  like  to  know 
why  the  manuscripts  were  sold,  and  for  what  purpose. 
In  the  present  day  we  should  take  it  for  granted  that 
they  were  only  transplanted  into  some  richer  collec- 
tion ;  but  there  is  too  much  reason  to  fear  that  they 
were  sold  merely  as  parchment.  In  fact,  the  number 
of  manuscripts  for  which  bookbinders  have  to  answer 
is  beyond  all  calculation;  and  this,  too,  even  in  times 
long  since  the  dark  ages.  Mabillon  found  many  ma- 
nuscripts (though  happily  they  were  not  of  peculiar 
value)  in  the  hands  of  a  bookseller  at  Besanexm,  who 
had  destined  them  to  the  use  of  the  binder ;  and 
another  in  the  hands  of  a  physician,  who  had  rescued 
it  from  the  same  fate7.  A  still  more  recent  and 
wholesale  example  is  afforded  by  the  author  of  a 
letter  to  the  Baron  de  Crassier,  which  I  have  already 
had  occasion  to  refer  to.  Writing  from  Nuremberg  in 
the  year  1717,  and  giving  an  account  of  M.  Uffenbach, 
and  his  collection  of  books  and  other  valuables,  he  says, 
"  Parmi  les  manuscrits  il  y  en  a  qui  lui  viennent  du 
pillage  de  Tabbaye  de  S.  Gal,  qu'il  a  achete  au  poids 
seulement,  ayant  fait  expres  un  voyage  a  Ausbourg,  oti 
il  avoit  appris,  mais  trop  tard,  qu'on  y  avoit  amene  des 
chariots  pleins,  qui  furent  d'abord  vendus  chez  des 
bateurs  d'or  et  des  relieurs  de  livres,  et  periront  ainsi 

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


NO.  XVII.]  IGNORANCE    AND    DISHONESTY.  281 

miserablement  V  Of  the  gold-beaters  I  know  nothing, 
but  all  trades  have  probably  had  a  share  of  the  plun- 
der9, and  theirs  has,  I  doubt  not,  been  very  considera- 
ble ;  but  as  to  the  bookbinders,  I  repeat  that  they  have 
to  answer  for  an  innumerable  quantity  of  manuscripts. 
Those  wTho  are  at  all  in  the  habit  of  looking  at  such 
things  know  how  commonly  early-printed  books,  whose 
binding  has  undergone  the  analytical  operation  of 
damp,  or  mere  old  age,  disclose  the  under  end-pieces 
of  beautiful  and  ancient  manuscript.  They  knowT  how 
freely  parchment  was  used  for  backs  and  bands,  and 
fly-leaves,  and  even  for  covers.  The  thing  is  so  com- 
mon that  those  who  are  accustomed  to  see  old  books 
have  ceased  to  notice  it ;  and  to  give  to  others  any  idea 
of  its  frequency,  or  of  the  immense  consumption  of 
manuscripts  occasioned  by  it,  is  utterly  impossible ; 
especially,  considering  that  the  books  so  bound  were 
principally  those  published  during  the  first  century  of 
printing,  and  that  the  volumes  themselves  are  now 
become  comparatively  scarce.  How  the  bookbinders 
of  that  age  came  by  them  is  another,  and  a  sad  ques- 
tion ;  but  that  their  part  of  the  tragedy  was  performed 
in  honest  ignorance  may  be  believed. 

And  what  must  we  say  of  dishonesty — of  another 
kind  of  dishonesty  from  that  which  has  been  noticed, 
and  which  was  only  that  of  monks  who  sold  what  they 
had  no  right  to  sell,  to  purchasers  who  knew  that  they 


8  II.  Voy.  Lit.  175. 

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


282  LOSS   OF   MSS.  [no.  XVII. 

had  no  right  to  buy  ?  It  was  bad  enough,  quite  bad 
enough ;  but  there  is  another  species  of  dishonesty 
belonging  to  the  question,  to  which  it  is  still  more  dis- 
gusting to  refer,  though  it  must  not  be  overlooked. 
Think  of  Sir  John  Cotton  writing  to  Dr.  Smith,  "I 
have  written  to  John  Vigures  that  Betty  Hart  should 
let  you  into  the  library  when  you  please.  As  for  any- 
thing of  a  bond,  I  desire  none.  I  know  you,  and  con- 
fide in  your  worth  and  honesty  10."  And  again,  "  As 
for  my  library,  it  is  wholly  at  your  use  and  service. 
The  same  liberty  which  my  father  gave  to  the  learned 
Mr.  Selden,  I  give  to  you.  But  Mr.  Selden  was  too 
free  in  lending  out  books,  which,  after  his  death,  were 
never  restored  1."  A  sad  thing  it  is  that  such  prudence 
should  be  necessary,  and  that  such  suspicion  should 
have  grounds  among  men  of  letters ;  but  it  has  ever 
been  so.  "  II  est  surprenant,"  says  Martene,  "  que 
dans  une  bibliotheque  aussi  complete  que  celle  d'An- 
chin,  on  trouve  si  peu  de  manuscrits  des  conciles,  et  si 
peu  des  historiens.  II  y  a  apparence  que  les  manu- 
scrits de  ces  matieres  ont  ete  enlevez  par  des  ciirieuw, 
qui  s'en  seront  rendus  maitres  par  la  facilite  de  quel- 
ques  abbez2." 

The  Jesuits  had  rather  a  bad  name  in  this  matter ; 
and  the  same  writer  relates  an  anecdote  which  (though 
in  this  case  the  Jesuit  was  a  "  fort  honnete  homme") 
may  not  be  out  of  place  here.  He  was  employed  at 
the  Cistercian  Abbey  of  Cambron  to  teach  the  young 
monks  philosophy,  because  the  strictness  of  the  abbot's 
discipline  did  not  permit  such  exemption  from  monastic 
service  as  would  have  allowed  any  of  the  elder  monks 
to  undertake  that  duty.  "  We  dined  with  this  Jesuit," 
says  Martene,  "  who  appeared  to  us  to  be  a  good  sort 


10  Letters  by  Ein.  Per.  from  the  Bod.  Vol.  i.  p.  18. 
1    Ibid.  23.  "  II.  Voy.  Lit.  82. 


NO.  XVII.]  BY    DISHONESTY.  283 

of  man.  He  was  in  the  library  when  we  were  intro- 
duced ;  and,  taking  up  a  manuscript,  he  read  these 
words — *  Liber  B.  Mariae  de  Camberone,  siquis  eum 
abstulerit  anathema  sit.'  On  this,  the  monk  who  ac- 
companied us  said,  with  a  smile,  '  If  all  who  have 
carried  off  our  manuscripts  are  excommunicate,  there 
must  be  a  good  many  Jesuits  in  that  predicament.' 
4  Vous  nous  les  avez  donnez,'  replied  the  Jesuit ;  and 
this,"  says  Martene,  "  might  very  well  be  true ;  for  I 
am  persuaded  that  many  thefts  of  manuscripts  are 
charged  on  these  reverend  fathers  of  which  they  are 
quite  innocent ;  and  I  have  found,  in  certain  monaste- 
ries, manuscripts  which  have  been  returned,  and  also 
the  letters  announcing  their  return,  though  they  still 
kept  the  recepisse  of  those  who  had  borrowed  them. 
Those  who  found  these  recepisses  did  not  fail  to  say, 
without  further  examination,  that  the  fathers  had  kept 
their  manuscripts 3." 

Whether  the  Jesuits  were  more  or  less  guilty  of 
stealing  books,  it  is  certainly  a  very  bad  thing,  even 
when  done  from  conscientious  motives,  as  it  seems  to 
have  been  by  Jacob  the  Jew,  whose  memoirs  Mabillon 
met  with  in  the  Medicean  library  at  Florence;  and 
who  therein  confessed  that  before  his  conversion  he 
had  stolen  the  books  of  Christians,  carrying  off  those 
which  related  to  either  the  Old  or  the  New  Testament, 
but  committing  the  works  of  the  fathers  to  the  flames 
— thus,  in  his  kind  and  degree,  (and  perhaps  as  only 
one  out  of  many  of  his  nation  so  employed,)  helping- 
forward  the  work  of  destruction  *.  But  bad  as  steal- 
ing is,  there  is  really  something  which  seems  to  me  to 
be  still  worse;  or  which  we  ought  perhaps  to  call  the 
worst  form  of  stealing,  only  we  do  not  generally  con- 


II.  Voy.  Lit  p.  107.  "  It.  Ital.  168. 


284  MUTILATION  [NO.  XVII. 

sider  it  as  such,  because  the  mischief  eclipses  the  sin. 
I  mean  the  mutilation  of  manuscripts.  At  Long  Pont, 
says  Martene,  "  nous  nous  arretames  un  jour  pour  voir 
les  manuscrits,  qui  sont  en  grand  nombre  et  fort  beaux, 
mais  dont  plusieurs  o?it  ete  tronqaez  par  des  gens  trop 
hardis,  a  qui  on  a  permis  de  les  voir  trop  facilement 
sans  connoitre  leur  caractere  \"  I  do  not  say  that  this 
mutilation,  too,  may  not  be  very  conscientious  when 
united  with  ignorance  and  blind  zeal,  as  in  the  case  of 
the  Oxford  Commissioners,  who  have  furnished  my 
motto  6 ;  but  what  is  one  to  say  when  learned  men  do 


5  I.  Voy.  Lit.  P.  ii.  p.  152. 

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


NO.  XVII.]  AND    THEFT    OF    MSS.  285 

such  things  from  mere  cupidity  or  idleness  ?  Only  the 
other  day  I  took  up  a  popular  county  history,  where  I 
met  with  a  note  in  these  words,  relating  to  a  work 
mentioned  in  the  text : — "  It  is  a  quarto  MS.,  in  the 

Ashmolean  Museum,  fit  for  press.     Dr. borrowed 

it   while  compiling  his and   cut   out  five 

leaves,  which  have  since  been  recovered."  Well  might 
Cave  say,  "  I  hear  many  persons,  indeed,  frequently 
saying  that  it  is  hard  to  obtain  admission  into  libraries 
— that  the  golden  fleece  (which  some  critics  most 
firmly  believe  to  have  been  old  parchments)  was  lite- 
rally guarded  by  dragons,  and  that  we  are  doing  just 
the  same  thing  in  these  days.  The  wickedness  of  men 
has  led  to  all  this  caution,  and  the  necessity  which 
requires  it  forme  its  excuse.  Who  does  not  burn 
with  unbounded  indignation  when  he  sees  that  the  best 
books,  while  their  names  still  stand  in  the  catalogues, 
are  gone  from  the  shelves?  Who  but  must  groan 
when  he  sees  others  mutilated,  obliterated,  erased,  and 
spoiled  by  every  kind  of  barbarism  7  ?"  Sad  stories 
might  be  told  on  this  subject,  but  where  would  be  the 
use  of  telling  them  ?  It  may  be  hoped  that  to  most 
they  would  seem  incredible. 

Some  readers  may  not,  perhaps,  be  aware  that,  at  no 
very  remote  period,  it  was  customary  to  take  the  pre- 
caution of  chaining  the  books  to  the  shelves.  A  notice 
on  this  subject,  which  I  found  in  a  Chapter  library,  I 
thought  worth  transcribing.  It  was  written  in  a  copy 
of  Lock  on  the  Epistles  (S.  100.) ;  I  suppose  because 
that  was  then  one  of  the  newest  and  most  popular 
books,  and  therefore  most  likely  to  bring  the  notice 


were  supposed  by  the  reforming  visitors  to  represent  popes  and  saints, 
when  they  were  really  intended  for  the  portraits  of  kings  and  warriors  ; 
nay,  some  were  absolutely  mathematical  figures  !     The  malice  of  these 
barbarians  was  only  equalled  by  their  ignorance."  p.  468. 
7  Scrip.  XV.  pnef.  a.  2. 


286  CHAINING    BOOKS.  [NO.  XVII. 

under  the  observation  of  those  whom  it  might  con- 
cern. 

"  ADVERTISEMENT. 

"  Since,  to  the  great  reproach  of  the  nation,  and  a  much 
greater  one  of  our  holy  religion,  the  thievish  disposition  of 
some  that  enter  into  libraries  to  learn  no  good  there,  hath 
made  it  necessary  to  secure  the  innocent  books,  and  even 
the  sacred  volumes  themselves,  with  chains — which  are  better 
deserved  by  those  ill  persons,  who  have  too  much  learning  to 
be  hanged,  and  too  little  to  be  honest — care  should  be  taken 
hereafter,  that  as  additions  shall  be  made  to  this  library,  of 
which  there  is  a  hopeful  expectation,  the  chains  should  nei- 
ther be  longer,  nor  more  clumsy,  than  the  use  of  them 
requires,  and  that  the  loops,  whereby  they  are  fastened  to 
the  books,  may  be  rivetted  on  such  a  part  of  the  cover,  and 
so  smoothly,  as  not  to  gall  or  raze  the  books,  while  they  are 
removed  from  or  to  their  respective  places.  Till  a  better 
way  be  devised,  a  pattern  is  given  in  the  three  volumes  of 
the  Centur.  Magdeburg,  lately  given  and  set  up.  And  foras- 
much as  the  latter,  and  much  more  convenient  manner  of 
placing  books  in  libraryes,  is  to  turn  their  backs  outwards, 
with  the  titles  and  other  decent  ornaments  in  giltwork,  which 
ought  not  to  be  hidden — as  in  this  library,  by  a  contrary 
position,  the  beauty  of  the  fairest  volumes  is — therefore,  to 
prevent  this  for  the  future,  and  to  remedy  that  which  is  past, 
if  it  shall  be  thought  worth  the  pains,  this  new  method  of 
fixing  the  chain  to  the  back  of  the  book  is  recommended, 
till  one  more  suitable  shall  be  contrived  8." 

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


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


NO.  XVII.]        DIFFICULTY    OF    ACCESS    TO    MSS.  287 

very  principally  on  this  account  that  I  have  said  so 
much  about  it.  In  the  first  of  these  papers  I  said, 
"  Who  can  take  upon  himself  to  say  what  is  extant  ?" 
And  I  wrote  these  words  under  the  feeling,  that  copies 
(perhaps  authors)  which  are  not  known  to  exist  may 
still  be  in  being.  It  may  seem  strange  that  I  have 
said  so  little  of  the  Vatican,  the  King  of  France's 
Library,  the  British  Museum,  and  other  vast  reposito- 
ries of  manuscripts ;  but  the  truth  is,  that  I  know  very 
little  about  them  beyond  what  is  known  to  most  per- 
sons who  are  likely  to  take  even  the  slightest  interest 
in  the  matter ;  and  what  is  the  use  of  telling  the  reader 
that  these  and  other  libraries  contain  almost  innumera- 
ble manuscripts  ?  He  knows  it ;  and  I  am  rather  try- 
ing to  call  his  attention  to  the  fact,  that  so  recently  as 
when  these  Benedictines  made  their  tours,  there  were 
so  great  a  number  dispersed  up  and  down  the  country, 
and  still,  if  I  may  so  speak,  in  situ.  One  might  natu- 
rally suppose  that,  so  far  as  these  travellers  went  (how 
small  a  part  of  Europe)  they  saw  all  that  could  be 
seen ;  and  it  is  therefore  necessary  to  state,  that  even 
with  their  recommendations,  and  all  the  facilities  which 
could  not  be  refused  to  men  of  their  character,  travel- 
ling with  their  objects,  they  often  found  it  difficult,  and 
sometimes  impossible,  to  gain  access  to  what  they  were 
looking  for.  Ignorance,  suspicion,  jealousy,  often  pre- 
vented the  archives  of  cathedrals  and  monasteries  from 
being  freely  open  to  them.  Yet  we  must  not  ascribe 
every  refusal  to  so  bad  a  motive.  The  reader  will 
recollect,  that  many  manuscripts,  which  might  be  cu- 
rious to  the  antiquary,  only  as  fixing  a  date,  or  illustrat- 
ing a  custom,  or  presenting  some  singularity  of  language, 
or  penmanship,  might  be  extremely  valuable  to  the 
owners  as  a  title-deed.  Suppose  that,  in  rummaging 
the  archives,  these  prying  Benedictines  had  filched 
away  the  diploma   of  Charles  the  Bald,   by  which  the 


288  DIFFICULTY    OF    ACCESS  [NO.  XVII. 

abbey  had  held  broad  lands  for  centuries ;  or  suppose, 
what  is  more  likely,  that  in  the  exercise  of  their  diplo- 
matic skill  they  should  suspect  it  of  being,  if  not  a 
forgery,  a  second  edition,  made  to  supply  the  place  of 
what  had  really  existed ;  or  suppose,  what  is  still  more 
probable,  that  in  their  search  they  should  not  be  able 
to  find  it  at  all,  and  be  obliged  to  say  so  in  their  new 
Gallia  Christiana  ? 

I  am  not  insinuating  dishonesty;  but  every  body 
who  knows  anything  of  the  state  of  real  property,  even 
in  our  own  country,  is  aware  that  there  is  many  a  good 
estate,  held  by  its  lawful  owner,  whose  title  no  one  has 
a  right  to  dispute,  and  which  is  nevertheless  held  by 
him  against  his  will,  because  he  cannot  so  prove  his 
title  as  to  be  able  to  sell  it.  Indeed,  it  was  the  shrewd 
remark  of  an  able  and  experienced  lawyer,  that  the 
best  security  which  any  man  could  have  for  an  estate 
of  which  he  was  in  possession,  would  be  the  certainty 
that  there  were  no  title-deeds  in  existence  9.  Owing 
to  this,  and  the  other  causes  to  wilich  I  have  alluded, 
our  travellers  sometimes  found  it  no  easy  matter  to 
make  their  way  into  the  archives ;  and  even  when  not 
met  by  rudeness,  or  incivility,  they  could  perceive  that 
the  abbot,  or  canons,  would  gladly  have  dispensed  with 
their  visit  K 


9  The  reader  wil]  easily  imagine  something  like  jealousy  between  orders, 
and  even  individual  communities.  Something  like  it,  only  on  a  greater 
scale,  might  have  been  specified  among  the  desolations  of  war,  especially 
when  of  a  civil  or  revolutionary  nature.  For  instance,  in  his  preface  to 
the  catalogue  of  the  Cottonian  MSS.  Mr.  Planta  says — "  We  are  informed 
by  Stukeley,  that  —  Bromsall,  Esquire,  of  Blunham,  in  Bedfordshire,  high 
sheriff  for  the  county  of  Bedford  in  the  year  1650,  was  greatly  instrumental 
in  preserving  this  inestimable  treasure  during  the  convulsions  of  the  civil 
wars,  in  which  all  documents  of  a  constitutional  and  legal  nature  were 
industriously  sought  after,  in  order  to  be  destroyed." 

1  At  Verdun  the  archbishop  plainly  refused  to  open  his  archives ;  and 
the  dean  and  chapter,  though  they  opened  theirs  at  first,  shut  them  the 
next  day,  and  would  not  even  grant  admission  to  the  "  mechant  reste  d'une 


NO.  XVII.]  TO    MANUSCRIPTS.  289 

Still,  though  they  did  not  see  all  that  might  have 
been  seen — though  their  object  was  not  precisely  the 
same  as  ours,  and  they  did  not  think  of  mentioning  the 


bonne  bibliotheque  qu'ils  ont  vendue." — I.  Voy.  Lit.  P.  ii.  p.  93.  At 
Strasburg,  the  personal  interference  of  the  Prince  of  Auvergne  (one  of  the 
twenty-four  noble  canons — tous  princes  ou  comtes,)  was  insufficient 
(lb.  145);  and  at  Lyons,  the  strong  recommendation  of  the  archbishop 
was  scarcely  sufficient  (I.  Voy.  Lit.  238)  to  get  them  admitted.  At 
Rosseauville,  "nous  n'y  eumes  aucune  satisfaction." — I. Voy.  Lit.,  p.  ii.  177. 
At  St.  Trone,  they  expected  better  treatment — "  Nous  ne  pumes  cependant 
rien  voir,  pour  des  raisons  dont  il  est  inutile  de  rapporter  les  motifs  et  le 
detail." — II.  Voy.  Lit.  197-  At  St.  Bertin,  "  La  bibliotheque  est  remplie 
d'un  tres-grand  nombre  de  manuscrits  fort  anciens;"  but  they  were 
scarcely  permitted  to  enter,  and  not  allowed  to  examine.— I.  Voy.  Lit. 
p.  ii.  184.  At  the  Cistercian  abbey  of  Candelle,  the  abbot  refused,  in 
opposition  to  his  monks  ;  and  Martene  was  obliged  to  report  in  the  Gallia 
Christiana  that  he  had  been  there  to  inspect  the  archives,  "  sed  non  licuit 
per  senem  abbatem,  hominem  utique  suspiciosum." — lb.  68,  G.  C,  I.  c.  56. 
At  St.  Martin  de  Canigoux,  it  was  just  the  reverse.  The  prior  received 
them  "  assez  charitablement,  il  nous  ouvrit  meme  les  archives  qui  sont 
entieres ;  mais  a  peine  eumes-nous  vu  quelques-uns  des  titres,  qu'un  de  ses 
moines  [before  described  as  *  six  ou  sept  moines  sauvages ']  vint  nous  les 
arracher  des  mains." — lb.  p.  60.  Perhaps  at  such  a  place  there  was  less 
to  regret,  as  Martene  thought  at  Brindler,  where  he  was  plainly  told  that 
he  could  not  see  the  library.  He  consoled  himself  by  remarking,  that 
everything  "parut  fort  petit  et  fort  mince  dans  cette  maison;"  except, 
indeed,  the  kitchen  fire,  made  of  whole  trees,  and  the  ten  stag-hounds  that 
lay  before  it. — II.  Voy.  Lit.  248.  At  Gigni  they  were  received  politely  by 
the  abbot,  who  promised  that  they  should  see  everything  the  next  day;  by 
which  time  he  had  changed  his  mind. — I.  Voy.  Lit.  173,  174.  At  Lerins 
the  abbot  told  them  that  the  librarian  had  gone  out  for  a  holiday,  and 
would  not  be  back  for  a  month — "  et  que  ainsi  il  n'y  avoit  rien  a  faire 
pour  nous  a  Lerins.  La  charite  m'oblige  de  passer  sous  silence  le  reste  de 
notre  entretien." — I.  Voy.  Lit.  273.  Sometimes  it  was  managed  with 
more  politeness,  as  at  Lobbes,  where  the  abbot  was  occupied  in  receiving 
the  Princess  of  Nassau,  and  turned  our  travellers  over  to  the  prior,  who 
took  them  to  his  garden,  and  shewed  them  "  beaucoup  de  puerilitez ;"  but 
they  could  not  get  a  sight  of  the  library. — lb.  p.  ii.  210.  And  sometimes, 
what  might  be  civility,  looked  very  much  like  suspicion;  as  when  the 
chapter  of  Chalons,  after  having,  with  much  difficulty,  granted  their  re- 
quest, appointed  four  canons,  "  plutot  pour  nous  obseder  que  pour  nous 
accompagner,  qui  ne  nous  permirent  pas  de  rien  e'crire." — lb  90.  Nor 
does  Martene  fail  to  acknowledge  the  politeness  of  the  two  abbesses  of 
"  l'abbaye  du  Paraclet,  si  fameuse  par  la  retraite  d'Abaillard  et  d'Eloise ;" 
and  especially  that  of  the  younger — "  qui  nous  fit  l'honneur  de  ne  nous 
pas  quitter,"  while  searching  the  archives. — lb.  p.  i.  85.  See  Note  D. 

U 


290  BIBLES    OF    THE    DARK    AGES  [NO.  XVII. 

manuscripts  of  the  Scriptures  which  they  met  with, 
unless  some  accidental  circumstance  rendered  them 
remarkable,  yet  it  would  be  easy  to  specify  a  hundred 
copies  of  the  whole,  or  parts  of  the  Bible,  which  they 
happen  thus  to  mention,  and  which  had  existed  during 
the  dark  ages.  I  spare  the  reader  the  details  on  this 
subject;  but  there  is  one  point  which  seems  to  me 
too  curious  and  interesting  to  be  passed  over.  I  have 
stated  that,  at  many  places,  they  found  no  manuscripts ; 
and  perhaps  I  have  said  enough  to  account  for  it.  At 
other  places  there  were  one,  or  two,  or  a  few  only 
remaining ;  and  it  is  worthy  of  notice,  how  frequently 
such  relics  consisted  of  Bibles,  or  parts  of  the  Scrip- 
tures. It  may  have  been  that  there  were  originally 
more  of  them,  or  it  may  have  been  that  they  were 
better  taken  care  of;  but  either  way  the  fact  is  so 
much  to  our  purpose,  that  I  must  be  allowed  to  specify 
some  of  the  cases. 

At  Luxeuil  "  II  reste  dans  le  bibliotheque  quelques 
manuscrits,  dont  les  principaux  sont  l'ancien  lectionaire 
de  la  liturgie  Gallicane,  ecrit  en  lettres  merovingiennes, 
un  commentaire  sur  les  pseaumes  d'environ  sept  ou  huit 

cens  ans,  dont  les  premiers  feuillets  sont  dechirez 

outre  cela  on  voit  dans  la  sacristie  un  tres  beau  texte 
des  evangiles,"  which  had  been  presented  by  Gerard, 
who  was  abbot  in  the  early  part  of  the  eleventh  cen- 
tury 2. 

At  the  priory  of  St.  Lupicin,  near  Claude  in  Franche 
Qomte,  the  only  manuscript  mentioned  is  a  copy  of  the 
Gospels,  "  un  fort  beau  livre,  ecrit  en  lettres  unciales 
d'argent  sur  un  velin  de  pourpre  ou  violet,  dont  l'ecri- 
ture  n'avoit  gueres  plus  de  neuf  cens  ans 3." 

At  St.   Claude,    the  only  manuscripts   which   they 


-  I.  Voy.  Lit.  168.     Mab.  Ann.  IV.  237.  :(  I.  Voy.  Lit.  175. 


NO.  XVII.]  STILL    IN    EXISTENCE.  291 

mention  are,  "  une  fort  belle  Bible,  qui  a  bien  huit 
cens  ans  d'ecriture,  et  un  manuscrit  de  S.  Eucher 4." 

At  La  Grasse,  in  Languedoc,  the  only  manuscript 
mentioned  is  "  un  texte  des  evangiles  qu'on  pretend 
avoir  ete  donne  par  Fempereur  Charlemagne  \" 

At  Joiiarre  the  only  MSS.  mentioned  are,  "  deux 
textes  des  evangiles,  couverts  de  lames  d'or,"  one 
seven,  the  other  eight,  hundred  years  old  6. 

At  HautvilUers,  "  II  n'y  reste  qu'un  texte  des  evan- 
giles, ecrit  en  lettres  d'or  et  d'une  beaute  charmante, 
qui  est  du  temps  de  l'archeveque  Ebon7;"  that  is,  a.  d. 
816—845. 

At  the  cathedral  at  Rheims,  "  On  y  voit  encore  plu- 
sieurs  manuscrits  tres-anciens,  entr'autres  un  texte  des 
evangiles,  ecrit  sur  du  velin  pourpre,  et  une  Bible  de 
l'archeveque  Hincmar 8,"  the  successor  of  Ebbo. 

At  Verdun,  though  the  canons  had  only  the  "  me- 
diant reste  d'une  bonne  bibliotheque,"  yet  they  had 
"  deux  beaux  textes  des  evangiles ;  l'un  ecrit  en  let- 
tres majuscules  il  y  a  plus  de  900  ans, et 

l'autre  d'environ  700  ans 9." 

At  Metz,  though  most  of  the  MSS.  belonging  to  the 
cathedral  had  been  transferred  to  the  library  of  M. 
Colbert,  "  II  en  reste  neanmoins  encore  quelques  uns 
qui  ne  sont  pas  indifferens.  Nous  y  vimes  entr'autres 
une  tres-belle  Bible  de  sept  ou  huit  cens  ans ;  les  grands 
et  les  petits  prophetes  ecrits  en  lettres  Saxone  1." 

At  Pont  a  Mousson,  in  the  monastery  of  St.  Mary, 
only  four  MSS.  are  mentioned,  of  which  two  were, 
"  belles  Bibles  manuscrites  d'environ  500  ans 2." 

At  St.  Michel  only  two  mentioned,  one  "un  tres 
beau  pseautier,  ecrit  en  Grec 3." 


4  I.  Voy. 

Lit. 

177. 

5  lb. 

P.  ii 

.  55. 

6  lb. 

74. 

'  lb. 

78. 

8  lb.  79. 

9  lb. 

93. 

i 

lb. 
U 

110. 

2 

■  lb. 

129. 

«  lb 

.  129 

292  BIBLES    OF    THE    DARK    AGES  [NO.  XVII. 

At  St.  Riquier,  notwithstanding  the  "  belle  biblio- 
theque  qui  etoit  autrefois,"  there  were  only  two  MSS. 
"  qui  meritent  quelque  attention."  One  "  un  texte  des 
evangiles,  ecrit  en  lettres  d'or  sur  du  velin  pourpre, 
donne  a  S.  Angilbert  par  l'empereur  Charlemagne  4." 

At  St.  Vincents,  at  Metz,  after  repeated  fires,  "  entre 
le  peu  de  manuscrits  qui  restent  dans  la  bibliotheque, 
nous  y  vimes  un  tres-beau  texte  des  evangiles  V 

At  St.  Me-dard,  at  Soissons,  "  de  tous  les  anciens 
monumens  il  ne  reste  a  S.  Medard  qu'un  ancien  texte 

des  evangiles,  qu'on  ne  peut  trop  estimer c'est 

un  present  que  l'empereur  Louis  le  Debonnaire  fit  au 
monastere 6." 

At  St.  Jean  de  Vic/ores,  "  On  y  voit  encore  quelques 
manuscrits,  que  l'injure  des  terns  n'a  pas  dissipe.  Les 
principaux  sont  une  Bible  avec  des  concordances,"  and 
two  others 7. 

At  St.  Vaasfs,  at  Doiiay,  "  Nous  n'y  vimes  pour  tout 
manuscrits  qu'un  pseautier 8." 

"  Les  differentes  revolutions  arrivees  a  Stavelo  sont 
cause  qu'aujourd'hui  on  n'y  trouve  pas  un  si  grand 
nombre  de  manuscrits,  mais  le  peu  qu'il  y  en  a  est  bon. 
On  y  voit  entr'autres  une  tres  belle  Bible  en  deux 
grands  volumes 9." 

At  Mahnidi,  "  De  tous  les  anciens  monumens  on  a 


4  I.  Voy.  Lit.  ii.  175.  5  Ibid.  112.  6  II.  Voy.  Lit.  17. 

*  lb.  24.  8  lb.  76. 

9  lb.  149. — Its  date  is  given  in  the  following  inscription  contained  in  it, 
which  may  also  give  an  idea  of  the  pains  bestowed  on  such  a  work : — 
"  Codices  hi  ambo  quia  continuatim  et  tamen  morosius  scripti  sunt  per 
annos  ferme  un.  in  omni  sua  procuratione,  hoc  est  scriptura,  illuminatione, 
ligatura  uno  eodemque  anno  perfecti  sunt  ambo.  Licet  hie  posterior  qui 
est  anterior,  et  ipse  est  annus  ab  incarnatione  Domini  m.  xcvii.  indictione 
v.  Henrico  un.  imperante,  Christianorum  exercitu  super  paganos  violenter 
agente.  Obberto  Leodicensi  praesule,  Rodulfo  Stabulensi  abbate,  Christo 
Domino  ut  semper  infinita  sscculorum  saecula  regnante.     Amen." 


NO.  XVII.]  STILL    IN    EXISTENCE.  293 

a  peine  sauve  de  l'incendie  cinq  ou  six  manuscrits  dont 
les  principaux  sont  une  Bible  en  deux  volumes,  et  un 
Joseph1." 

At  La  Vol  Dieu,  "  Nous  n'y  avons  trouve  pour  tout 
manuscrit  qu'une  Bible  assez  belle 2." 

At  Grimberg,  "  La  bibliotheque  ayant  ete  brulee  par 
les  heretiques,  tous  les  manuscrits  ont  ete  consumes 
par  le  feu.  II  n'y  reste  aujourd'hui  que  deux  Bibles 
manuscrites,  et  d'anciens  statuts  synodauxde  l'eglise  de 
Cambray 3." 

At  St.  Pantaleon,  at  Cologne,  "  II  y  avoit  autrefois 
plusieurs  manuscrits,  mais  les  religieux,  qui  n'en  con- 
noissoient  pas  le  prix,  les  ont  vendu  pour  fort  peu  de 
chose:  il  n'y  reste  qu'une  tres-belle  Bible,  l'histoire 
ecclesiastique  de  Pierre  le  Mangeur  et  Jean  Belet4." 

"  Comme  tous  les  anciens  monumens  de  l'Abbaye 
(TEisterbac  ont  ete  dissipez  dans  les  guerres,  nous  n'y 
trouvames  de  manuscrits  qu'une  Bible,  avec  les  dia- 
logues et  les  homelies  de  Cesarius 5." 

"  Les  grandes  revolutions  arrivees  a  Epternac  n'ont 
pas  tellement  mine  les  anciens  monumens  qu'il  n'y 
reste  encore  plusieurs  manuscrits;"  and  among  them 
(though  only  three  others  are  mentioned)  two  extra- 
ordinary copies  of  the  gospels G. 

I  am  quite  aware  that  such  details  are  tedious,  but 
I  do  not  know  how  I  could  have  made  out  this  part  of 
the  argument  at  all  without  them.  Indeed,  the  appre- 
hension of  being  charged  with  mere  catalogue-making, 


1  II.  Voy.  Lit.  171.  2  lb.  199.  3  lb.  112. 

4  lb.  264.  5  lb.  270. 

6  Ibid.  297.  It  would  be  unpardonable  not  to  notice  that  one  of  these 
M^S.  is  a  copy  of  the  Gospels  "  ecrit  en  lettres  Saxones,  et  corrige'  a  ce 
qu'on  pretend  sur  l'original  merae  de  Saint  Jerome;"  not,  however,  from 
any  chance  that  this  was  actually  the  case,  but  from  the  real  probability 
that  it  belonged  to  our  countryman  Willibrod,  and  was  brought  thither  by 
him  when  he  came  there  as  a  missionary  in  the  seventh  century. 


294  ORIGIN  [no.  XVIII. 

has,  I  fear,  led  me  to  state  it  very  imperfectly.  I  am, 
however,  very  anxious  to  get  to  other  portions  of  the 
argument,  which  may,  I  hope,  be  more  generally  inter- 
esting, but  which  I  could  not  venture  upon  without 
premising  some  attempt  to  shew  that  a  good  many 
copies  of  the  Scriptures  did  exist  in  the  dark  ages; 
and  that,  at  all  events,  it  is  the  most  absurd  thing  in 
the  world  to  infer  their  non-existence  then,  from  their 
being  scarce  now.  I  hope  to  shew  not  only  that  they 
existed,  but  that  they  were  often  in  the  hands  of  those 
who  read  and  valued  them. 


No.  XVIII. 

"  Esse  niger  monachus  si  forte  velim  Cluniaci, 
Ova  fabasque  nigras  cum  sale  ssepe  dabunt. 

Surgere  me  facient  media  de  nocte,  volentem 
Amplius  in  calido  membra  fovere  thoro. 

Quodque  magis  nollem  vellent  me  psallere  sursum, 
Et  geminare  meos  in  diapente  tonos." — Brunellus. 

It  may  perhaps  appear  from  the  evidence  which  has 
been  adduced,  that  there  is  good  ground  for  an  opinion 
that  copies  of  the  Scriptures  were  not  so  exceedingly 
scarce  in  the  Dark  Ages  as  some  persons  would  lead 
us  to  suppose.  I  have  shewn  that  a  good  many 
existed ;  and  I  have  stated  (and,  indeed,  given  some 
incidental  proofs)  that  this  existence  is  attested  by  a 
considerable  number  which  have  survived  those  ages, 
and  are  now  in  our  libraries.  It  certainly  was  my 
intention  to  have  spoken  much  more  fully  on  the  latter 
of  these  points,  and  to  have  afforded  to  the  reader 
something  like  a  return  of  the  number  of  copies  of  the 
bible,  or  of  parts  of  it,  which  are  even  now  known  to 
exist,  and  which  are  believed,  on  good  grounds,  to  have 
been  written  in,  or  before,  the  Dark  Ages.     But  I  pass 


NO.  XVIII.]  OF    CLUGNI.  295 

it  over;  and  I  might  claim  the  readers  gratitude  for 
so  doing,  on  the  ground  that  I  have  already  occupied 
more  space  than  I  intended,  or  he  may  have  approved, 
in  what  may  be  considered  by  many  as  dry  details.  I 
might  tell  him,  also,  (and  very  truly,)  that  though  the 
inquiry  would  not  be  without  interest,  yet  it  is  not 
very  material  for  my  object,  which  is,  as  I  have  stated, 
to  investigate  the  actual  state  and  means  of  scriptural 
knowledge  during  the  Dark  Ages.  I  might  add,  (and 
with  equal  truth,)  that,  having  said  more  than  enough 
respecting  that  part  of  the  proof  which  I  introduced  by 
stating,  that  I  considered  it  as  far  from  being  the  most 
important,  I  am  anxious  to  get  to  some  other  parts, 
which  may,  I  hope,  prove  more  interesting  to  readers 
in  general,  and  to  some,  perhaps,  more  convincing. 
All  this  I  might  say,  but  I  had  rather  acknowledge 
the  simple  fact,  which  is,  that  I  am  unable,  at  present, 
to  give  anything  like  a  satisfactory  statement  on  the 
subject.  I  hoped  that  before  this  time  I  should  have 
received  information  which  I  have  not  yet  been  able  to 
obtain,  and  by  which  I  might  have  rendered  what  I 
have  had  it  in  my  power  to  glean  less  imperfect. 

Let  us,  then,  go  to  another  part  of  the  argument. 
I  do  not  know  whether  to  call  it  the  next,  for  the  parts 
are  so  connected,  and  so  intimately  dependent  on  each 
other,  that  it  is  not  only  impossible  to  separate  them 
completely,  but  extremely  difficult  to  decide  which 
should  be  taken  first.  Hitherto  our  inquiries  have 
commonly  led  us  to  the  monastery  in  which  the  books 
forming  our  subject  were  written  and  reposited ;  and  it 
may  be  natural  to  inquire  next  (as  it  is,  indeed,  a  most 
important  point  to  learn)  how  far  we  have  reason  to 
believe  that  the  inmates  of  the  cloister  had  any  know- 
ledge of  the  contents  of  those  volumes  of  which  they 
were  confessedly  the  transcribers  and  the  guardians. 
It  will  greatly  promote  our  understanding  of  this,  and 


296  ORIGIN  [no.  xviii. 

of  our  subject  in  general,  if  we  first  take  a  hasty 
glance  at  one  or  two  of  the  monastic  institutions  of 
the  period ;  especially  at  one,  which  may  be  called  the 
child  of  those  times,  born  and  brought  up  in  what  is 
commonly  considered  as  the  darkest  of  the  Dark  Ages 
— the  century  which  has  been  distinguished  as  the 
"  Sseculum  Obscurum." 

As  to  the  pedigree  of  Count  Berno,  it  is  even  more 
obscure  than  the  age  in  which  he  lived  ;  and  whether 
he  was,  or  was  not,  of  Burgundian  descent,  it  does  not 
concern  us  to  inquire.  It  is  clear  that  he  and  his 
cousin,  Laifin,  founded  the  monastery  of  Gigni,  in  the 
northern  part  of  the  diocese  of  Lyons,  between  Lion- 
le-Saunier  and  St.  Amour,  some  time,  and  probably 
not  long,  before  the  year  896.  This  appears  from  a 
letter  of  Pope  Formosus,  dated  in  that  year,  which  also 
informs  us  they  had  endowed  it  with  their  property, 
and  that  Berno  had  become  the  first  abbot7.  That  it 
was  not  completed  for  a  considerable  time  we  may 
presume  from  the  language  of  a  charter  granted  by 
Rodulph,  King  of  Burgundy,  eighteen  years  after- 
wards 8.     In  consequence    of  Berno's  application,  the 


7  Baluz.  Misc.  ii.  159. 

8  The  language  of  the  charter  is,  "  Reverentissimus  Abbas  adiit  nostram 
magnitudinem  petens  nos  ut  quendam  locum  Gigniacum,  quem  ipse  Abbas 
et  sui  confratres  tenent  vel  construunt  regulariter,  rebus  proprietatis  nostrae 
ditaremus." — Bal.  ibid.  161.  I  know  that  it  is  not  safe,  in  Latin  of  this 
period,  to  lay  much  stress  on  moods  and  tenses ;  but  the  probability  is, 
that  the  building  was  a  long  business ;  and  even  if  I  misconstrue  con- 
struunt, yet  it  gives  me  an  opportunity  of  reminding  my  readers,  that  in 
those  ages  to  which  we  owe  most  of  our  churches,  and  certainly  the  best, 
the  building  was  a  gradual  process.  To  this  day  it  is  very  commonly  so 
in  the  Romish  church ;  while  our  way,  generally  speaking,  is  to  do  all  at 
once.  Yet,  at  a  time  when  so  much  church  building  is  obviously  wanted, 
and  so  much  actually  projected,  might  it  not  be  worth  while  to  give  a 
moment's  consideration  to  the  old  way  ?  Generally  speaking,  we  make 
the  church  at  once  all  that  it  is  meant  to  be ;  and  with  a  view  to  this 
immediate  perfection  all  our  estimates  are  framed.  For  a  given  sum,  say 
10,000/.,   we  can  have  one  large   church  of  the   plan   A,  or   two  small 


NO.  XVIII.]  OF    CLUGNI.  297 

king  granted  to  him  and  his  monastery  the  cell  of 
Beaume,  which  he  and  his  monks  had  restored  and 
rebuilt ;  and  he  continued  to  govern  Gigni  and  the 
dependent  cell  with  strict  discipline.  This,  at  least, 
we  may  believe,  from  various  circumstances,  and  espe- 
cially from  one  which  occurred  about  the  year  909, 
when  two  strangers  applied  for  admittance  into  the 
fraternity  of  Beaume.  Before  they  could  make  the 
formal  request,  some  of  the  monks  got  about  them, 
and  drew  such  a  picture  of  the  abbot's  severity  that 
one  of  the  strangers  would  have  turned  back.  Ade- 
grin,  however,  was  better  informed  respecting  the 
place ;  and,  moreover,  had  the  sagacity  to  suspect  that 
those  who  gave  such  a  horrible  account  of  discipline 
might  be  the  persons  who  were  most  obnoxious  to  it ; 
and,  encouraged  by  him,  his  companion  Odo  entered 9. 


churches  of  the  plan  B ;  or  if  we  like  to  have  something  between  the  two, 
we  may  have  the  plan  C  for  7500/.  Well,  but  suppose  we  want  as  large  a 
church  as  A,  and  have  only  half  or  three  quarters  of  the  10,000/.;  how 
much  of  that  plan  can  we  get  executed  for  5000/.  or  7500/.  ? — or,  if  we 
want  such  a  church  as  C,  how  much  of  that  can  we  get  executed  for  the 
full  cost  of  B.  ?  Can  we  get  a  place  which,  though  to  the  eye  of  taste  and 
science  it  may  be  obviously  unfinished,  may  yet  be  so  far  complete  as  to 
be  a  respectable  place  for  the  performance  of  divine  worship  for  a  few 
years,  during  which  the  original  design  may  be  carried  into  full  execution  ? 
It  is,  humanly  speaking,  impossible  that  one  generation  should  build  half 
the  churches  which  are  now  wanted  in  this  country ;  but  we  are  building 
a  good  many,  and  we  may  hope  that  each  one  will  be  a  tree  whose  seed  is 
in  itself,  or  which  will  at  least  have  such  a  principle  of  vitality  as  will  enable 
it  to  grow  up  to  maturity. 

9  I  have  already  mentioned  that  our  Benedictine  travellers  visited  Gigni, 
and  I  cannot  help  transcribing  a  few  words  of  what  they  say  respecting 
both  these  places  : — "  Nous  arrivames  a  Beaume  comme  on  sortoit  de 
vepres ;  .  .  .  .  cette  Abbaye  est  fort  ancienne,  et  recommandable  par  la 
retraite  de  Saint  Odon  et  de  Saint  Adegrin,  qui  y  ont  fait  profession  de 
la  vie  religieuse.  La  situation  est  des  plus  affreuses  qu'on  puisse  voir ;  on 
n'y  arrive  que  par  une  gorge  serree  de  deux  rochers  escarpez  d'une 
hauteur  prodigieuse.  Le  lieu  meme  ou  il  est  batie  est  fort  etroit,  et  de 
tous  cotez  on  ne  voit  rien  que  des  rochers  steriles  et  elevez  a  perte  de  vue 

Aujourd'hui  ce  lieu  si  saint,  qui  a  servi  de  retraite  a  tant  de 

serviteurs  de  Dieu,  et  d'asile  a  tant  de  pecheurs  convcrtis,  est  devenu  en 


298  ORIGIN  [no.  XVIII. 

In  the  next  year,  the  abbot  Berno  laid  the  founda- 
tions of  what  afterwards  became  one  of  the  most  cele- 
brated and  influential  monasteries  during,  and  beyond, 
the  period  of  the  Dark  Ages.  Under  the  auspices, 
and  at  the  expense,  of  William,  Count  of  Auvergne, 
commonly  called  William  the  Pious,  he  formed  a 
monastery  at  Clugni,  near  Macon,  in  Burgundy.  As 
to  the  monasteries  which  he  afterwards  founded  or 
superintended,  it  is  not  to  our  purpose  to  inquire  ;  for 
it  is  only  as  the  founder  of  Clugni  that  I  here  intro- 
duce him.  To  that  monastery  he  transferred  his  resi- 
dence ;  and  Odo,  who  accompanied  him,  became  his 
successor  in  the  year  927.  The  fame  of  this  second 
abbot  of  Clugni  so  far  eclipsed  that  of  his  predecessor 
that  many  have  erroneously  considered  him  as  the 
founder  ;  but  however  probable  it  may  be  that  he  was 
the  man  of  the  most  learning,  the  most  expanded  mind, 


proye  a  la  noblesse  du  pais,  qui  regarde  l'abbaye  de  Beaume  comme  une 
decharge  de  leurfamille ;  et  pour  y  etre  religieux,  il  faut  faire  preuve  de 
seize  lignes  de  noblesse."  After  Beaume,  they  visited  Gigni — M  Qui  etoit 
autrefois  une  abbaye  illustre,  fondee  par  S.  Bernon,  et  ensuite  reduite  en 
Prieure  soumis  a  Cluni.     Ce  monastere,  aussi-bien  que  celui  de  Beaume, 

sert  de  decharge  aux  families  nobles nous  primes  le  chemin  de 

S.  Claude,  et  monsieur  le  Chambrier  nous  donna  un  garcon  pour  nous 
conduire  a  une  demi  lieue  de  la.  Ce  bon  enfant  se  mit  a  nous  entretenir 
de  la  vie  des  moines  de  Gigny,  comme  ils  passoient  tout  leur  temps  a 
se  divertir  :  je  n'entre  pas  dans  le  detail  de  ce  qu'il  nous  dit,  parce  qu'il  ne 
leur  est  pas  fort  honorable.  Voila  la  gloire  que  Dieu  retire  de  ces  maisons 
de  noblesse,  et  l'edification  qui  en  revient  au  prochain.  Et  on  appelle  un 
grand  bien  pour  les  families  de  la  Province,  ce  qui  est  capable  de  leur 
attirerla  malediction  de  Dieu." — I.  Voy.  Lit.  171,  &c.  Only  imagine  that 
St.  Berno  could  have  resumed  his  place,  and  that  some  friendly  voice  had 
whispered  to  these  modern  religious,  as  the  monks  of  Beaume  did  to  Odo, 
when  he  applied  for  admission,  "  Nosti  consuetudinem  Bernonis  Abbatis  ? 
At  ille  :  Nusquam,  inquit.  Et  illi :  Heu,  heu,  si  sciretis  quam  dure  scit 
ille  monachum  tractare.  Correptionem  vero  suam  sequuntur  verbera,  et 
rursum  quos  verberat  compedibus  ligat,  domat  carcere,  jejuniis  affligit : 
et  haec  omnia  perpessus,  nee  sic  suam  potest  miser  impetrare  gratiam." 
Mab.  A.  S.  vii.  158.  Making  all  due  allowance  for  exaggeration,  there 
must  have  been  something  about  Abbot  Berno  which  the  merry  monks  of 
the  eighteenth  century  would  not  have  liked  at  all. 


NO.  XVIII.]  OF    CLUGNI.  299 

and  most  extensive  ^ews,  and  perhaps  of  better  in- 
formed, if  not  more  zealous  piety,  yet  it  were  unjust  to 
deny  that  what  he  did  was  built  on  the  foundation  of 
his  predecessor,  and  that  he  was  probably  enabled  to 
do  it,  not  only  by  the  property  which  had  been 
acquired,  or  the  buildings  which  had  been  raised,  but 
by  the  rigid  discipline  which  had  been  instituted  and 
maintained. 

Odo,  before  he  came  to  Beaume,  had  been  school- 
master and  precentor  of  the  cathedral  church  of  St. 
Martin,  at  Tours.  While  in  his  cradle,  his  father  had 
devoted  him  to  that  saint ;  and  he  had  been  brought 
up  by  Fulk  the  Good,  Count  of  Anjou,  who  was  him- 
self one  of  the  canons  of  that  church '.  As  he  grew 
up,  his  father  seems  to  have  repented  of  his  oblation  to 
St.  Martin,  and  to  have  wished  to  bring  up  his  son  to 
a  military  life ;  and,  for  that  purpose,  he  placed  him  in 
the  service  of  the  Count  of  Auvergne,  who  has  been 
already  mentioned.  But  military  exercises  and  field 
sports  seem  soon  to  have  become  wearisome  to  young 


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


300  ODO,    ABBOT  [NO.  XVIII. 

Odo.  An  inveterate  headache,  which,  from  his  seven- 
teenth to  his  nineteenth  year  defied  all  the  medical 
skill  which  his  parents  could  procure  for  him,  seems  to 
have  at  length  awakened  the  father's  conscience,  and 
to  have  reminded  him  that  his  suffering  son  had  been 
devoted  to  St.  Martin ;  and  superstition  suggested  that 
the  sickness  was  judicial,  and  indicated  the  anger  of 
the  saint.  The  vow  was  performed,  and,  perhaps, 
without  much  reluctance  by  the  father ;  who,  though 
a  layman,  and  tempted  for  awhile  to  devote  his  hand- 
some and  accomplished  son  to  that  which  was  then 
considered  the  most  noble  profession,  was  himself  a 
learned  and  a  reading  man.  "  My  father,"  said  Odo,  in 
reply  to  the  inquiries  of  the  monk  to  whom  we  are 
indebted  for  his  life,  "  was  named  Abbo,  but  he  seemed 
to  be  a  different  sort  of  person,  and  to  have  acted  dif- 
ferently, from  men  of  the  present  day ;  for  he  had  by 
heart  the  histories  of  the  ancients,  and  the  Novelise  of 
Justinian.  At  his  table  there  was  always  the  reading 
of  the  gospel.  If  at  any  time  a  dispute  arose,  there 
was  such  a  general  opinion  of  the  soundness  of  his 
judgment,  that  people  came  to  him  from  all  parts  to 
obtain  his  decision  ;  and,  on  this  account,  he  was  much 
respected  by  everybody,  and  particularly  by  the  most 
puissant  Count  William."  Odo  seems  to  have  inhe- 
rited the  taste  for  reading.  I  have,  in  a  former  paper, 
mentioned  how  he  was  deterred  from  the  study  of 
heathen  literature 2,  but  it  was  only  to  pursue  sacred 
knowledge — relictis  carminibus  poetarum,  alti  edoctus 
spiritu  consilii,  ad  Evangeliorum,  Prophetarumque  ex- 
positores  se  totum  convertit — and  when  he  entered  at 
the  priory  of  Beaume  he  brought  with  him  his  private 
stock  of  books,  amounting  to  a  hundred  volumes.  He 
succeeded  Berno  as  Abbot  of  Clugni  in  the  year  927. 

8  No.  XI  p.  183. 


NO.  XVIII.]  of  clugni.  301 

My  object  is  not  to  write  the  history  of  the  monastery, 
or  the  lives  of  its  abbots  ;  my  reason  for  mentioning  the 
place  at  all  will  soon  be  obvious ;  but  I  wish  first,  as 
briefly  as  possible,  to  give  the  reader  some  idea  of  the 
persons  whose  names  I  am  obliged  to  mention,  and  to 
state  some  few  circumstances  respecting  them  which 
have  reference  to  my  object.  With  this  view  I  give 
the  following  anecdotes  of  Odo  : — 

"  At  that  time,"  says  his  biographer,  "  when  we  were 
crossing  the  Cottian  Alps,  with  Gerald,  Bishop  of  Riez 
....  in  that  same  journey  there  was  a  feeble  old  man, 
who  was  passing  over  that  part  of  the  Alps  at  the  same 
time  with  us.  He  was  carrying  a  bag  full  of  bread, 
and  garlic,  and  onions,  and  leeks,  the  smell  of  which 
herbs  I  could  by  no  means  endure.  But  the  pious 
father  no  sooner  saw  the  old  man  than  he  made  him 
get  on  his  horse,  and  undertook  to  carry  the  most  vile- 
smelling  bag  himself;  and  I,  unable  to  bear  such  a 
stink,  dropt  away  from  the  side  of  my  companion. 
Having  got  over  the  steepest  part  of  the  Alps,  and 
beginning  to  descend,  I  saw  him  from  a  distance  yield 
to  the  importunity  of  the  old  man,  and  remount  his 
horse ;  but  even  then  he  did  not  give  back  the  bag  to 
its  owner,  but  hung  it  at  his  saddle  bow.  I  then  set 
forward,  passing  those  who  were  before  me ;  and  wdien 
I  got  near  to  him  I  went  hastily,  and  with  a  sense  of 
shame,  and  presently  after  I  had  come  up  with  him,  he 
called  to  me,  '  Come  here,  for  there  are  still  some 
psalms  remaining  which  we  have  to  chaunt ;'  and  when 
I  told  him  that  I  could  not  bear  the  stink  of  that  bag, 
he  immediately  rebuked  me,  saying,  *  Alack-a-day, 
what  you  call  stinking  the  poor  man  can  eat,  while 
you  cannot  bear  to  smell  it ;  the  poor  man  can  carry 
it,  and  you  say  you  cannot  bear  to  look  at  it.'  But 
this  he  said  with  reference  to  himself,  who  was  one  of 
the  true  poor  of  Christ ;  and  witli  these,  and  the  like 


302  ODO    OF    CLUGNI.  [NO.  XVIII. 

sayings,  he  reproved  me,  and  so  cured  my  sense  of 
smelling,  that  I  was  no  longer  sensible  of  any  ill 
savour 3." 

I  mention  this  circumstance  principally  for  the  sake 
of  noticing  the  custom  of  repeating  the  psalms  on  a 
journey,  which  was  by  no  means  a  peculiarity  of  Odo. 
It  might,  indeed,  in  this  case,  be  the  office  for  the 
canonical  hours;  but,  independent  of  this,  I  believe 
the  custom  of  repeating  the  psalms  under  such  circum- 
stances to  have  been  very  frequent.  The  biographer 
of  Odo  tells  us,  that  being  obliged  to  travel  about  a 
great  deal  on  diplomatic  business  (pro  pace  regum  et 
principum,)  as  well  as  for  the  reformation  of  monaste- 
ries, thieves  lay  in  wait  for  him ;  and  once  a  banditti 
of  forty  were  on  the  point  of  attacking  him;  but  when 
one  of  them,  who  was  their  leader,  named  Aimon,  saw 
him,  and  the  monks  who  were  with  him,  persist  in 
chanting  the  psalms  without  interruption,  and  go  on 
their  way  thus  chanting,  he  was  immediately  struck 
with  compunction,  and  said  to  his  companions,  "  I  do 
not  remember  ever  to  have  seen  such  men  as  these, 
and  I  do  not  think  that  such  have  been  seen  anywhere 
else ;"  nor  could  the  entreaties  of  his  comrades  per- 
suade him  to  attack  them 4. 


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

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


NO.  XVIII.]  AYMARD    AND    MAIOLUS.  303 

Odo  was  succeeded  by  Aymard,  who  was  an  old  man 
at  the  time  of  his  election ;  and  who,  becoming-  blind 
six  years  afterwards,  resigned  the  office  of  abbot,  in  the 
year  942,  in  favour  of  Maiolus,  or,  in  more  modern 
language,  St.  Mayeul.  Aymard,  however,  lived  many 
years  after  this,  and  appears  to  have  considered  himself 
as  still  abbot,  and  on  one  occasion  to  have  vindicated 
his  authority  in  a  manner  which  may  be  worth  noticing, 
as  it  gives  a  lively  picture  of  the  discipline  and  subor- 
dination kept  up  in  the  monastery. 

"  From  the  monks  of  the  venerable  monastery  of 
Clugni,"  says  Peter  Damian,  who  visited  the  place  in 
the  year  1062,  "I  happened  to  learn  two  remarkable 
instances  of  holy  humility,  one  of  which  may  be  ex- 
tremely edifying  to  prelates,  and  the  other  to  subjects. 
Aymard,  who  was  abbot  of  that  monastery,  made 
Maiolus  his  substitute ;  and  sought  repose  in  his  old 
age.  While  he  was  living  as  a  private  person  in  the 
infirmary,  he  sent  one  evening  for  some  cheese,  which 
the  cellarer,  being  as  usual  very  busy,  not  only  did  not 
give,  but  bestowed  some  uncivil  speeches  on  the  mes- 
senger, complaining  that  there  was  such  a  multitude  of 
abbots,  and  that  he  did  not  know  how  to  manage  with 
so  many  masters.  The  old  man  having  heard  of  this, 
was  not  a  little  offended  ;  and,  being  entirely  blind,  the 
vexation  took  the  greater  hold  on  his  mind ;  for  blind 
persons,  from  the  very  circumstance  of  their  want  of 
sight,  ruminate  more  deeply  in  their  hearts  on  what 
they  hear,  and  it  acts  as  a  greater  stimulus  to  resent- 
ment, because  the  impression  is  not  weakened  by  the 
sight  of  external  objects.  In  the  morning,  however,  he 
ordered  his  servant  to  lead  him  into  the  chapter,  and 
being  come  there,  he  addressed  the  abbot  to  this  effect 
— 'Brother  Maiolus,  I  did  not  set  you  above  myself 
that  you  might  persecute  me,  or  rule  over  me  a-  a 
buyer  does  over  his  slave,  but  T  chose  you  that  you 


304  AYMARD    AND    MAIOLUS.  [NO.  XVIII. 

might  feel  for  me  as  a  son  for  a  father ;'  —  and, 
after  a  good  deal  to  the  same  purport,  being  nearly 
overcome,  he  added,  *  Are  you,  I  beg  leave  to  ask,  my 
monk  ?'  and  the  other  replying,  '  I  am,  and  I  profess 
that  I  was  never  more  so  than  I  am  at  this  moment ' — 
'  If  you  are  my  monk,'  said  Aymard,  *  instantly  quit 
your  seat  and  go  to  the  place  which  you  used  to 
occupy.'  Maiolus,  on  hearing  this,  immediately  rose, 
and,  as  he  was  ordered,  took  a  lower  place ;  and 
Aymard,  as  if  he  had  come  home  again  after  an 
absence,  took  the  vacant  seat.  He  stated  his  charge 
against  the  cellarer  who  had  offended  him,  and  while 
he  was  prostrate,  sharply  rebuked  him,  and  then  en- 
joined him  such  penance  as  he  thought  proper.  Then, 
having  performed  all  the  duty  for  which  he  had  resumed 
that  brief  authority,  he  immediately  dethroned  himself, 
and  ordered  Maiolus  to  resume  his  seat.  He  did  so 
without  the  slightest  hesitation  '." 


5  Opusc.  33,  c.  7,  cited  Mab.  A.  S.  Tom.  V.  p.  233.  The  Liber 
Ordinis  S.  Victoris  Parisiensis,  cited  by  Du  Cange  in  v.  Infirmaria,  says, 
"  In  infirmaria  tria  sunt  genera  infirmorum.  Sunt  enim  quidam  quilecto 
prorsus  decubant.  Sunt  alii  qui  de  infirmitate  convalescunt,  et  jam  sur- 
gere  et  ambulare  possunt :  sed  tamen  pro  reparatione  virium  adhuc  in 
Infirmaria  sunt.  Sunt  alii  qui  hujusmodi  infirmitatem  non  habent,  et 
tamen  in  Infirmaria  assidue  comedunt  et  jacent  ut  senes,  et  cceci,  et  debiles 
et  hujusmodi." 

Turketul,  who  has  been  already  mentioned,  (No.  XV.  p.  249 )  was 
Abbot  of  Croyland  at  the  same  time  that  Maiolus  presided  at  Clugni.  In- 
gulph  gives  us  an  interesting  account  of  the  classes  into  which  he  divided 
his  monks.  First,  the  juniors,  who  remained  in  that  class  during  the  first 
twenty-four  years  after  their  profession.  Secondly,  those  who  had  passed 
through  that  period,  and  were  for  the  next  sixteen  years  excused  from 
certain  services  and  severities  of  monastic  discipline,  but  bore  the  labour 
and  responsibility  of  the  general  management  of  the  monastery — "  cum 
istis  magnitudo  negotiorum,  et  providentiaconsiliorum,  ac  totius  loci  soli- 
citudo  specialiter  incumbit."  Thirdly,  those  who  had  passed  through  both 
these  periods,  and  had  therefore  been  monks  forty  years.  These  were 
called  the  seniors,  and  were  for  the  next  ten  years  entitled  to  greater  indul- 
gences. Indeed,  after  the  two  first  years  of  the  ten,  they  were  excused 
from  all  official  duties  of  a  secular  nature,  except  in  cases  of  emergency. 


NO.  XVIII.]  MAIOLUS,    ABBOT    OF    CLUGXI.  305 

Maiolus,  soon  after  his  entrance  into  the  monastery, 
had  been  appointed  librarian,  and  held  some  other  im- 


"  He  who  has  attained  the  fiftieth  year  of  profession,"  continues  Ingulph, 
"  shall  be  called  a  Sempecta,  and  he  shall  have  a  good  chamber  assigned  to 
him  by  the  prior,  in  the  infirmary;  and  he  shall  have  an  attendant  or 
servant  specially  appointed  to  wait  on  him,  who  shall  receive  from  the 
abbot  an  allowance  of  provision,  the  same  in  mode  and  measure  as  is 
allowed  for  the  servant  of  a  knight  in  the  abbot's  hall.  To  the  Sempecta 
the  prior  shall  every  day  assign  a  companion,  as  well  for  the  instruction  of 
the  junior,  as  for  the  solace  of  the  senior ;  and  their  meals  shall  be  supplied 
to  them  from  the  infirmary  kitchen  according  to  the  allowance  for  the  sick. 
As  to  the  Sempecta  himself,  he  may  sit  or  walk,  or  go  in  or  go  out,  accord- 
ing to  his  own  will  and  pleasure.  He  may  go  in  and  out  of  the  choir,  the 
cloister,  the  refectory,  the  dormitory,  and  the  other  offices  of  the  monas- 
tery, with  or  without  a  frock,  how  and  when  he  pleases.  Nothing  unplea- 
sant respecting  the  concerns  of  the  monastery  shall  be  talked  of  before 
him.  Nobody  shall  vex  him  about  anything,  but  in  the  most  perfect  peace 
and  quietness  of  mind,  he  shall  wait  for  his  end." 

There  is  something  in  this  arrangement,  this  care  "  to  rock  the  cradle  of 
declining  age,"  so  beautiful  that  I  do  not  like  to  suppress  it,  especially  as 
it  throws  light,  which  some  readers  may  want,  on  the  fact  of  the  old  abbot's 
residence  in  the  infirmary ;  but  the  worst  of  these  long  notes  is,  that  they 
do  themselves  want  notes ;  at  least  I  do  not  like  to  give  this  passage  with- 
out two.  First,  if  any  reader  does  not  understand  what  is  meant  by  the 
word  Sempecta,  I  wish  him  to  know  that  I  am  in  the  same  predicament, 
having  never  seen  any  etymology  which  was  at  all  satisfactory.  Secondly,  I 
hesitated  a  good  while  before  I  could  bring  myself  to  translate  froccus  by 
frock,  though  I  believe  that  to  be  the  right  word,  and  that  the  garment 
was  so  called  by  the  monks  of  France  in  the  vulgar  tongue,  merely  because 
(notwithstanding  some  recent  changes  in  clerical  costume)  I  do  not  like  to 
suggest  the  idea  of  a  person  so  aged,  and  circumstanced,  in  a  frock  coat. 
As  to  the  garment  itself,  not  having  the  artist,  whom  Ingulph  calls  the 
"  Serviens  Cissor  de  Sartrina,"  of  Croyland,  at  my  elbow,  I  am  not  sure 
that  I  could  describe  it  with  technical  accuracy ;  but  it  may  perhaps  be 
enough  to  say  that  it  was  the  upper  garment,  differing  only  from  that  com- 
monly used  by  the  monks  from  its  having  no  cowl.  Another  evil  of  these 
long  notes  is,  that  one  gets  into  a  gossiping  way,  and  one  story  leads  to 
another.  I  cannot  fancy  this  Sempecta  rambling  about  the  monastery  at 
his  pleasure  without  being  reminded  of  an  old  soldier  of  my  acquaintance, 
who,  after  gaining  great  reputation,  but  losing  his  two  sons,  in  the  cru- 
sades, took  refuge  in  a  cloister — or,  as  a  monk  of  the  house  says  : — 

'*  Ipse  post  militiae  cursum  temporalis, 
Illustratus  gratia  doni  spiritualis, 
Esse  Christi  cupiens  miles  specialis, 
In  hac  domo  monachus  factus  est  claustralis. 

X 


306  MAIOLUS,    ABBOT  [NO.  XVIII. 

portant  offices ;  but,  as  I  am  not  writing  his  memoirs, 
I  say  nothing  of  the  various  transactions  in  which  he 
was  engaged,  of  the  monasteries  which  he  reformed,  of 
the  preferment  (including  the  papacy)  which  he  refused 
— but  I  will  notice  one  or  two  things  respecting  his 


Ultra  modum  placidus,  dulcis  et  benignus, 

Ob  aetatis  senium  candidus  ut  cygnus, 

Blandus  et  affabilis,  ac  araari  dignus, 

In  se  Sancti  Spiritus  possidebat  pignus. 
Nam  sanctam  ecclesiam  saepe  frequentabat, 

Missarum  mysteria  laetus  auscultabat, 

Et  quas  scire  poterat  laudes  personabat, 

Ac  caelestem  gloriam  mente  ruminabat. 
Ejus  conversatio  dulcis  et  jocosa, 

Valde  commendabilis  et  religiosa, 

Ita  cunctis  fratribus  fuit  gratiosa, 

Quod  nee  gravis  extitit  nee  fastidiosa." 

We  may  easily  suppose  that  the  old  crusader,  who  had  gone  to  the  Holy 
Land  "  Equis  et  divitiis  satis  sublimatus,  et  praeclara  militum  turba  sti- 
patus,"  and  who  had  himself  been  employed  as  an  ambassador  to  the 
Soldan,  had  tales  of  travel  and  danger  which  would  make  him  a  very 
acceptable  companion  in  a  monastery ;  and  we  may  imagine  him  roaming 
about  it  like  the  old  Sempecta — 

"  Hie  per  claustrum  quotiens  transiens  meavit, 
Hinc  et  hinc  ad  monachos  caput  inclinavit, 
Et  sic  nutu  capitis  eos  salutavit, 
Quos  affectu  intimo  plurimum  amavit." 

I  am  ashamed  of  the  length  of  this  note — but  I  must  add  what  really 
relates  to  our  subject.  I  do  not  know  whether  this  old  gentleman  was 
generally  quartered  in  the  infirmary,  or  whether  it  was  only  so  when  he 
was  ill ;  but  we  are  told  that,  in  that  case — 

"  Ipse  nihilominus  missas  frequentabat 

Unde  Infirmarius  ipsum  increpabat, 

Et  ut  requiesceret  eum  exorabat. 
Dicens,  '  Franco,  remane,  vinum  tibi  dabo 

Et  te  bonis  epulis  pascam  et  cibabo,'"  &c. — Mart.  iii.  1333. 

I  cite  this  that  the  reader  may  see,  by  the  argument  of  the  Infirmarius, 
that  the  young  brother  who  was  appointed  in  turn  to  spend  the  day  with 
the  Sempecta,  was  not  sent  on  an  unpleasant  duty.  All  was,  of  course, 
subject  to  rule,  but  there  was  more  licence  as  to  good  cheer  in  the  infir- 
mary than  in  any  other  part  of  the  monastery ;  and,  in  fact,  sham  aegro- 
tats were  among  the  little  tricks  against  which  the  superiors  in  monasteries 
had  to  be  on  their  guard. 


NO.  XVIII.]  OF    CLUGNI.  307 

literary  character.  I  have  said  that  Odo  (one  of  his 
predecessors)  had  been  deterred  from  the  study  of  pro- 
fane learning:  by  a  dream ;  and  Maiolus  seems,  without 
any  such  intimation,  to  have  renounced  it,  so  far,  at 
least,  as  poetry  was  concerned.  It  may  be  a  sufficient 
proof  that  he  was  a  reading  man,  if  I  say  that  it  was 
his  custom  to  read  on  horseback 6.     There  is  certainly 


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

x  2 


308  MAIOLUS,    ABBOT  [NO.  XVIII. 

a  story  of  his  falling  asleep  over  the  works  of  Dionysius 
the  Areopagite,  a  thing  which  might  be  forgiven,  if  for 
no  other  reason,  to  men  who  never  had  a  night's  rest ; 
especially  if,  as  one  of  his  biographers  tells  us,  he  had 
been  preaching ;  "  distributa  in  monachos  substantia 
verbi  Dei,  et  sermone  ad  eos  habito." 

One  other  circumstance  of  his  life  I  must  also  men- 
tion. Returning  from  Rome,  he  and  his  companions 
were  set  upon  in  one  of  the  passes  of  the  Alps,  and 
taken  prisoners  by  the  Saracens.  Of  course  they  were 
plundered ;  and  the  abbot's  biographer  tells  us  that  he 
lost  all  the  books  which  he  had  with  him  except  one — 
cseteros  sacros  codices  cum  omnibus  quae  hie  habebat. 
That  one  was  a  book  on  the  Assumption  of  the  Virgin, 
which  he  seems  to  have  had  in  his  bosom  at  the  time 
(vestis  sub  tegmine)  and  which  escaped  the  search  of 
the  enemy 7.  The  hope  of  ransom  gained  him  permis- 
sion to  send  a  monk  to  Clugni  with  the  following  pithy 
epistle,  manu  propria  conscriptam, — 

"  To  the  lords  and  brethren  of  Clugni,  the  icr etched  Maiolus, 
a  captive  and  in  chains. 

"  The  floods  of  ungodly  men  have  compassed  me  about ; 
the  snares  of  death  prevented  me8.  Send,  if  you  please, 
the  price  of  ransom  for  me,  and  those  who  were  made  pri- 
soners with  me.1' 

This  letter  produced  grief  and  consternation  among 
the  brethren ;  and  the  next  day  a  large  sum  (infiniti 
ponderis  pecunia)  which  was  raised  by  almost  stripping 
the  monastery  of  whatever  could  be  turned  into  money, 
was  sent  off,  and  the  abbot  regained  his  liberty.     More- 


7  Mab.  A.  S.  VII.  779.  The  learned  Benedictine  does  not  lose  the 
opportunity  of  stating  that  there  had  been  a  controversy  in  the  ninth  cen- 
tury between  Hincmar,  Abp.  of  Rheims,  and  "nostros  Corbeienses,"  in 
which  the  latter  had  maintained  that  this  book  was  not  a  genuine  work  of 
St.  Jerome. 

8  Torrentes  Belial,  as  in  the  Vulgate  and  Heb.    II.  Sam.  xxii.  5,  6. 


NO.  XVIII.]  OF    CLUGNI.  309 

over,  as  his  biographer  tells  us,  the  outrage  was  re- 
venged by  the  Christians,  who  slew  the  Saracens,  and 
took  great  spoil,  which  they  divided  among  themselves. 
They  considered,  however,  that  the  Abbot  Maiolus  had 
a  right  to  a  share ;  because,  though  absent  there  could 
be  no  doubt  that  the  victory  was  in  some  degree  owing 
to  his  merits ;  and  therefore  (either  from  a  knowledge 
of  his  taste,  or  more  probably  under  the  guidance  of 
their  own)  they  assigned  to  him  all  the  books  of  which 
he  had  been  plundered — "  propterea  sacros  codices, 
quos  barbari  rapuerant  beato  viro,  sua  pro  parte  mise- 
runt." 

I  wish  Brother  Syrus,  to  whom  we  are  indebted  for 
this  account,  had  told  us  what  the  books  were,  espe- 
cially as  it  appears  from  another  source  that  the  single 
book  which  he  mentions  as  having  been  saved  was  not 
the  best  which  the  abbot  had  in  his  travelling  library. 
Glaber  Rodulphus  incidentally  mentions,  that  while  he 
was  in  the  hands  of  the  Saracens,  one  of  them,  who 
was  smoothing  a  piece  of  wood,  grieved  him  by  putting 
his  foot  on  the  Bible,  which,  "  according  to  custom,  he 
was  in  the  habit  of  carrying  with  him  9."  That  he  was, 
indeed,  with  whatever  mixture  of  superstition,  in  the 
habit  of  deferring  to  the  word  of  God,  may  be  chari- 
tably hoped  from  another  fact  incidentally  stated  by  his 
biographer — or,  if  this  be  thought  too  much,  it  will  at 
least  shew  that  he  had  the  word  of  God  at  hand,  and 
thought  it  worth  while  to  appear  to  consult  it.  I  have 
already  said  that  he  refused  the  papacy — the  Emperor 
Otho  II.  and  the  Empress  so  strongly  urged  him  t<> 
accept  it,  that  he  knew  not  what  to  do;  for,  says  lii> 
biographer,  "he  would  not  leave  the  little  flock  which 


9  "Alius  quoqne  Saracenorum  eorumrlem  cultro  deplanans  ligni  castu- 
lam,  posuit  incunctanter  pedem  super  viri  Dei  codicem,  bibliothecam 
scilicet,  quam  ex  more  secum  consueverat." — Mab.  A.  S.  \  II.  756. 


310  ODILO,    ABBOT  TnO.  XVIII. 

it  had  pleased  Christ  to  commit  to  him  ;  and  desired  to 
live  in  poverty  with  Him  who  descended  from  the 
height  of  heaven,  and  became  poor.  But,  being  pressed 
by  both  these  great  persons,  he  endeavoured  to  obtain 
some  delay.  Then  he  betook  himself  to  the  refuge  of 
prayer,  hoping,  through  that  means,  to  obtain  the 
divine  guidance  as  to  what  he  should  do,  and  what 
answer  he  should  make  to  such  powerful  importunity. 
As  he  rose  from  prayer,  a  copy  of  the  epistles  happened 
to  catch  his  eye ;  and  having  opened  it,  a  passage  pre- 
sented itself  at  the  top  of  the  page,  which  he  looked 
upon  as  a  word  of  instruction  from  heaven.  What  he 
thus  found  he  began  reading  to  those  about  him. 
6  Beware,  lest  any  man  spoil  you  through  philosophy 
and  vain  deceit,  after  the  tradition  of  men,  after  the 
rudiments  of  the  world,  and  not  after  Christ.'  He 
confessed  to  his  companions  that  he  ought,  with  all  his 
soul,  to  practise  that  which  this  text  of  Scripture 
taught  him;"  and  in  fact  he  did  so — he  remained 
Abbot  of  Clugni  as  long  as  he  lived. 

In  the  year  990,  when  Maiolus  had  governed  the 
monastery  two-and-forty  years,  Odilo  was  associated 
with  him,  (as  Maiolus  had  been  with  Aymard,)  and  in 
the  year  994  he  succeeded  him.  The  only  points  of 
his  history  which  I  will  here  mention  bear  a  consider- 
able resemblance  to  those  just  mentioned  with  respect 
to  Maiolus.  The  monastery  of  Nantua  had  been  placed 
under  his  care ;  and  once,  in  going  over  Mount  Jura, 
in  his  way  to  Geneva,  he  was  obliged  to  cross  a  river 
which  ran  down  the  side  of  that  mountain.  The  mule 
which  carried  his  bed  and  his  books  (qui  lectulum 
hominis  Dei  ferebat  simul  cum  libris)  being  without  a 
guide,  missed  the  proper  ford,  and  began  to  get  into 
deep  water.  All  the  company  ran  together,  shouting, 
and  the  animal,  by  a  strong  effort,  raised  itself,  and 
reached  the  bank  with  outstretched  neck.     A  servant 


NO.  XVIII.]  OF    CLUGNI.  311 

put  forth  his  hand  to  catch  at  the  bridle,  but  the  mule, 
misconstruing  the  action,  turned  about,  swam  across 
the  stream,  with  only  its  head  above  water,  and,  on 
reaching  the  opposite  bank,  was  with  some  difficulty 
rescued.  Brother  Jotsald  (the  contemporary  biographer 
of  Odilo)  mentions  these  circumstances  on  account  of 
the  miracle  which  followed.  On  opening  the  package 
which  the  mule  carried,  the  cloths,  such  as  napkins, 
towels,  &c.  alone  were  wet,  and  the  bed  (I  suppose 
I  should  say  mattress)  and  books  were  dry.  Master 
Peter,  who  had  charge  of  the  abbot's  things,  and  who 
had  been  in  a  dreadful  fidget  while  the  mule  was  in 
the  water,  pushed  forward,  and  was  the  first  to  tell  the 
abbot  what  he  could  not  be  brought  to  believe,  until, 
on  their  arrival  at  the  quarters  for  the  night,  he  ordered 
the  books  to  be  brought  to  him.  Whether  he  then 
supposed  that  there  had  been  any  miracle  I  do  not 
know ;  but  all  that  he  is  recorded  to  have  said  is,  "  Oh, 
my  dear  brethren,  you  see  the  wonderful  mercy  of  God 
to  us.  Indeed,  he  has  preserved  to  us  unhurt  those 
things  which  would  have  been  irrecoverably  spoiled  by 
being  wet,  and  has  suffered  those  things  to  become  wet 
which  could  sustain  no  injury  from  it."  Whatever 
view  the  abbot,  or  his  biographer  might  take  of  the 
matter,  the  modern  reader  will  perhaps  be  most  dis- 
posed to  find  a  miracle  in  the  fact  that  the  books  were 
there  at  all. 

On  another  occasion,  while  passing  over  the  same 
mountains,  a  horse,  who  bore  a  variety  of  packages, 
lost  his  footing,  and  slipped  down  the  side,  until  he 
reached  the  deep  valley,  full  of  sharp  rocks.  It  was 
with  much  difficulty  that  they  could  get  to  him  ;  but 
when  they  did,  they  found  him  unhurt,  and  part  of  his 
burthen  with  him  ;  but  the  abbot's  sacramentarv,  writ- 
ten in  letters  of  gold,  and  some  glass  vessels  with  em- 
bossed  work   were   missing — qiue  res   non  parum  viri 


312  HUGH,    ABBOT    OF  CLUGNI.  [NO.  XIX. 

Dei  msestificavit  animum  \  It  could  not,  however,  be 
helped,  nor  could  the  rain  and  snow  which  followed ; 
but  when  the  abbot  arrived  in  the  evening1,  at  a  cell 
belonging  to  the  Abbey  of  St.  Claude,  he  besought  the 
brethren  to  institute  a  search,  which  they  cheerfully 
undertook  to  do.  Here  accounts  differ  :  but  (whether 
on  the  next  day,  or  two  months  after,  when  the  snow 
had  thawed  and  the  lost  goods  were  forgotten,)  all 
agree  that  the  book  and  the  glasses  were  found  unin- 
jured. If  he  resembled  his  predecessor  in  thus  carry- 
ing about  books,  he  resembled  him  also  in  refusing — 
seriously  and  absolutely — very  high  preferment  when 
urged  upon  him  by  almost  irresistible  authority.  The 
pope  would  have  made  him  Archbishop  of  Lyons,  sent 
him  the  pall  and  ring,  and  peremptorily  ordered  him  to 
assume  the  office.  He  positively  refused  ;  and,  not- 
withstanding the  most  urgent  entreaties  and  menaces 
of  the  pope  2,  he  continued  Abbot  of  Clugni. 


No.  XIX. 

"  Sicut  tibi  notum  est,  sacra  lectio  et  oratio  in  nostro  ordine  sibi  invicera 
succedunt.  De  lectione  itur  ad  orationem,  ab  oratione  reditur  ad  lec- 
tionem ;  et  sicut  vester  ordo  [Cisterciensis]  est  activus,  quia  elegit  sibi 
justum  laborem  cum  Martha;  ita  noster  ordo  est  contemplativus,  quia 
elegit  sibi  sanctum  otium  cum  Maria,  quae  quia  elegit  sibi,  Christo  teste, 
partem  meliorem,  non  dubito  nostrum  ordinem  vestro  ordine  esse  dig- 
niorem." — Dial.  Int.  Cluniac.  et  Cistercien.  Mon. 

One  might  easily  say  a  great  deal  about  Hugh,  Abbot 
of  Clugni,  for  he  held  the  office  sixty  years ;  that  is, 

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

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


NO.  XIX.]  ULRIC,    A    MONK    OF    CLUGNI.  313 

from  a.  D.  1049  to  1109,  and  was  engaged  in  many  of 
the  most  important  transactions  of  his  time ;  but  of  the 
ten  thousand  monks  who  are  said  to  have  been  under 
his  superintendence,  my  present  business  is  with  one, 
for  whose  sake  I  have  given  this  slight  reference  to  the 
history  of  Clugni  and  its  abbots.  Let  us  come  to  him 
at  once. 

Ulric  was  born  of  a  noble  family  at  Ratisbon.  His 
father,  Bernold,  was  high  in  the  favour  of  the  Emperor 
Henry  III.,  and  he  was  himself  brought  up  in  the 
court.  His  disposition  to  letters  was  manifested  very 
early;  and  his  constant  attendance  on  divine  service, 
and  the  interest  which  he  took  in  it,  (though,  in  his 
case,  it  seems  to  have  been  self-devotion,)  has  led  his 
biographer  to  compare  him  to  the  child  Samuel  '. 
He  became  a  favourite  with  the  Empress  Agnes, 
whom  I  have  had  occasion  to  mention  once  before2. 
That  she  was  the  consort  of  Henry  III.,  and  that  after 
his  death,  in  the  year  1056,  she  acted  as  regent,  and 
had  the  management  of  her  son,  Henry  IV.,  then  only 
five  years  old,  until,  six  years  afterwards,  he  was  taken 
from  her  by  stratagem,  and  that  she  subsequently 
devoted  herself  to  a  religious  life,  are  facts  which  may 
be  found  in  most  histories  of  the  period ;  but  as  she 
has  thus  come  in  our  way,  I  wish  to  speak  of  her  some- 
what more  particularly,  for  there  are  one  or  two  docu- 
ments relating  to  her  history  which  seem  to  me  very 
interesting.  The  first  is  a  short  letter  (or  rather  a  part 
of  one,  but,  I  believe,  all  that  has  been  published)  to 


1  "  Divinse  legis  praecepta,  docente  eum  intrinsecus  Spiritu-sancto, 
intentissime  legebat,  legendo  intelligebat,  intelligendo  conservabat,  conser- 
vando  summa  mentis  alacritate,  quantum  in  ipso  fuerat,  operibus  implere 
satagebat.  In  templo  Domini  crebro  aderat,  ac  laudes  superna?  majestati 
pro  modulo  suo  devote  celebrans,  in  conspectu  Domini  Sabaoth,  velut  alter 
Samuel,  simplici  mente  ministrabat." — Mub.  A.  S.  IX.  777,  778. 
No.  XIII.  p.  20S. 


314  THE    EMPRESS    AGNES.  [NO.  XIX. 

the  abbot  and  monks  of  Frutari,  which  strongly,  though 
briefly  and  unaffectedly,  describes  the  unhappy  state  of 
mind  under  which  she  pursued  that  migratory  course 
of  devotion,  which,  though  complimented  as  resembling 
the  journey  of  the  Queen  of  Sheba,  was,  in  fact,  lead- 
ing her  about  from  shrine  to  shrine,  from  one  broken 
cistern  to  another,  ignorant  of  the  rock  which  followed 
her: — 

"  Agnes,  empress  and  sinner,  to  the  good  father  Albert, 
and  the  brethren  assembled  in  the  name  of  the  Lord,  at 
Frutari,  offers  the  service  of  an  handmaid,  whose  eyes  are 
unto  the  hands  of  her  mistress. 

"  My  conscience  terrifies  me  worse  than  any  spectre,  or 
any  apparition.  Therefore  I  fly  through  the  places  of  the 
saints,  seeking  where  I  may  hide  myself  from  the  face  of  this 
terror ;  and  I  am  not  a  little  desirous  to  come  to  you,  whose 
intercession  I  have  found  to  be  a  certain  relief.  But  our 
ways  are  in  the  hand  of  God,  and  not  left  to  our  own  will. 
In  the  meantime,  I  do  in  spirit  kneel  at  your  feet 3,  &c." 

Peter  Damian,  whom  she  met  with  at  Rome,  and  to 
whom  she  made  a  general  confession,  bears  witness  to 
the  deep  anguish  with  which  she  detailed  what  seemed 
to  him  to  amount  only  to  vain  thoughts  and  childish 
levities,  for  which  he  knew  not  how  to  assign  any 
penance.  What  she  gained  from  him  I  know  not; 
but  I  am  inclined  to  hope  and  believe  that  her  troubled 
spirit  was  afterwards  under  the  instruction  of  one  who 
was,  in  some  degree,  qualified  to  lead  her  feet  into  the 
way  of  peace.  I  form  this  opinion  of  John,  who  was 
Abbot  of  Fescamp,  in  Normandy,  for  fifty  years,  from  a 
few  scraps  which  have  been  published  from  his  neg- 
lected,  and   almost  unknown,   manuscripts 4.     One    is 


3  Mab.  Anal.  I.  164. 

4  He  was  a  native  of  Ravenna,  and  had  been  a  monk  of  St.  Benignus, 
at  Dijon ;  and  his  biographer,  a  contemporary  monk  of  that  society,  after 
celebrating  his  erudition,   his   knowledge   of  medicine,   and  other  good 


NO.  XIX.]  JOHN,    ABBOT    OF    FESCAMP.  315 

entitled  "  Thanksgivings  for  the  Benefits  of  the  Divine 
Mercy."  But  it  seems  rather  to  have  been  a  prayer, 
composed  when  he  entered  on  the  office  of  abbot.  The 
marks  of  omission  I  give  as  I  find  them,  without  know- 
ing whether  they  indicate  that  the  MS.  was  imperfect 
or  illegible,  or  that  the  transcriber  intentionally  omitted 
the  intervening  words  : — 

"  Christ    God,    my   hope I   pray,    entreat,  and 

beseech  thee,  that  thou  wouldst  perfect  in  me  that  work  of 
thy  mercy  which  thou  hast  begun.  For  I,  the  lowest  of  thy 
servants,  not  forgetting  those  benefits  of  thy  compassion 
which  thou  hast  granted  to  me,  a  sinner,  do  give  thee  thanks, 
that  through  thy  mere  mercy  thou  hast  freed  me,  unworthy 
as  I  am,  from  the  bonds  of  original  sin,  by  the  water  of  sacred 

baptism,  and  by  the  renewing  of  the  Holy  Ghost 

Thou  shepherd  and  ruler  of  all,  Christ  God,  who,  for  no 
worthiness  of  mine,  but  only  by  the  condescension  of  thy 
mercy,  hast  called  my  littleness  to  this  pastoral  office,  for 
thine  own  sake,  and  for  the  sake  of  thy  holy  name,  fit  me  for 
this  service,  that  I  may  govern  thy  house  wisely,  and  may  be 
enabled  to  feed  thy  flock  according  to  thy  will  in  all  things. 
Grant,  for  the  honour  of  thy  name,  that,  with  much  fruit  of 

this  brotherly  society,   I   may  attain  to  thy  glory I 

know,  and  am  assured,  that  thou  canst  produce  good  and 
great  increase  of  thy  flock  by  me,  little  and  weak  as  I  am  ; 
for  I  am  but  a  child,  and  a  little  man  of  no  strength,  having 
none  of  the  qualities  which  should  be  required,  or  which  are 
worthy  of  such  an  office.  Despairing,  then,  of  my  own 
littleness,  I  breathe  only  in  thy  mercy.  But  though  thou 
art  great  in  the  things  which  are  great,  yet  thou  dost  still 
more  gloriously  work  out  great  things  by  those  which  are 
least.  Surely  thy  praise  will  be  the  sweeter,  and,  after  the 
manner  of  men,  more  full,  if  by  me,  little  as  I  am,  thou  shalt 

qualities,  tells  us  that,  on  account  of  his  being  a  very  little  man,  he  was 
called  Johannelinus,  or  Johnny— "  ab  exilitate  Joannelinus  diminutivo 
nomine  est  dictus;  sed  humilitatis,  sapientiae,  discretionis  et  ceterarum 
virtutum  tanta  in  eo  refulsit  gratia,  ut,  sicut  sanctus  refert  Gregorius  in 
libro  Dialogorum  de  Constantio  Presbytero,  ita  in  hoc  mirum  esset  intuen- 
tibus,  in  tam  parvo  corpore  gratia  Dei  tanta  dona  exuberare." — Ap.  Mab. 
ibid.  167. 


31 G  JOHN,    ABBOT  [NO.  XIX. 

condescend  to  work  out  great  things  for  thy  flock 

Give  to  me  a  full  sufficiency  of  heavenly  and  of  earthly 
things,  that  I  may  have  wherewithal  to  feed  and  to  maintain 
thy  flock,  both  in  soul  and  body,  and  without  hesitation  to 
receive  those  who  shall  come  in  thy  name ;  and,  at  the  same 
time,  to  regulate  the  places  committed  to  my  charge,  and  to 
provide,    in  a  fit  and  becoming  manner,  for  the  peace  and 

welfare  of  the  brethren Two  things  I  beg  of  thee ; 

one  of  them,  do  not,  for  thy  mercy's  sake,  refuse  me.  I 
beseech  thee,  by  all  thy  compassions^  give  me  thy  heavenly 
consolation  in  my  many  troubles ;  for  that  most  heavy  burden 
which  is  placed  upon  my  weak  shoulders  I  cannot  bear,  and 

I   am  afraid  to   put  down I   give  thee   thanks,    O 

Lord,  who  hast  separated  me  from  the  company  of  this  vain 
world,  and  hast  brought  me  into  thy  holy  service,"  &c. 

From  this  little  abbot  the  empress  sought  instruc- 
tion ;  and  he  wrote  a  book  for  her  use.  It  exists  only, 
I  believe,  in  manuscript;  but  the  preface,  which  has 
been  published,  is  as  follows : — 

"  Long  since,  imperial  lady,  you  were  pleased  to  signify 
your  desire  that  I  should  collect  from  the  sacred  writings 
some  short  and  plain  discourses,  from  which  you  might  learn, 
according  to  your  order,  and  without  wearisome  labour,  a 
rule  of  good  life ;  for  every  rank,  age,  and  sex,  has  its  own 
peculiar  instruction  for  conduct  in  the  sacred  books ;  so  that 
each  one,  walking  rightly  in  the  vocation  in  which  he  is 
called,  may  arrive  at  the  kingdom  in  which  there  are  many 
mansions.  At  length,  after  the  decease  of  your  late  consort, 
of  revered  memory,  the  most  illustrious  and  wTise  Emperor 
Henry,  you  cordially  embraced  the  praiseworthy  design  of 
active  widowhood ;  and  though  rank,  wealth,  and  youth, 
might  have  prompted  you  to  a  second  marriage,  yet  you  did 
not  incline  your  heart  to  the  words  of  men  speaking  falsehood 
for  truth ;  but  you  rose  up  and  stood  firmly  on  your  feet, 
with  your  loins  girded,  so  that,  in  contempt  of  carnal  and 
worldly  allurements,  you  might  serve  the  Lord  Christ  in 
chastity,  and  set  to  other  matrons  an  example  worthy  of 
imitation ;  namely,  that  being  provoked  by  your  continuance 
to  better  things,  they  may  maintain  their  fidelity  to  their 
deceased  husbands,  and  through   the  heavenly  sacrifice,  and 


NO.  XIX.]  OF    FESCAMP.  317 

by  constant  works  of  mercy,  seek  from  the  Lord  the  remis- 
sion of  their  sins.  How  decent  and  becoming  is  it  for  a 
Christian  woman,  who  cannot  claim  the  higher  reward  of 
virginity,  to  study  to  live  thenceforth  chastely  and  soberly, 
so  that,  by  God's  help,  she  may  be  called,  and  may  really  be, 
the  wife  of  one  husband.  If  I  mistake  not,  the  propriety  of 
maintaining  this  glorious  excellence  of  single  wedlock  is 
taught  us  by  the  single  rib  taken  from  the  side  of  man  for 
the  formation  of  woman 5. 

"  As  soon  as  I  knew  the  pious  desires  of  your  heart,  I  set 
to  work,  and  quickly  culled  some  passages  from  the  works  of 
the  Fathers,  that  wherever  you  are  you  may  have  with  you 
some  veracious  documents,  which  may  more  fully  point  out 
the  way  in  which  a  faithful  widow  ought  to  walk  in  righteous- 
ness and  piety.  Moreover,  I  added  another  discourse,  on 
the  life  and  conversation  of  virgins,  for  the  instruction  of  the 
nuns  who  are  collected  in  vour  monastery.  And  having 
found  you  to  be  much  given  to  works  of  mercy,  I  did  not 
hesitate  to  write  this ;  namely,  that,  without  all  doubt,  the 
proper  objects  of  eleemosynary  gifts  are  not  ecclesiastics,  who 
are  already  possessed  of  large  property,  but  widows,  orphans, 
sick  persons,  foreigners,  and  specially  those  who  are  truly  the 
poor  of  Christ.  In  doing  all  this,  through  all  my  labours, 
my  value  for  you  has  prevented  my  feeling  it  any  trouble. 

"  Be  dumb,  ye  dogs  of  Scylla ;  I  shall  go  on,  turning  a 
deaf  ear  to  the  noisy  rage  of  your  abuse.  I  understand  that, 
in  your  little  cabals,  (in  conventiculis  vestris)  something  like 
this  drops  from  your  canine  jaws — 4  While  you  profess  to  be 
a  monk,  and  silence  is  the  peculiar  characteristic  of  monastic 
life,  what  have  you  to  do  with  women  ?  Whence  have  you 
such  authority,  that  you  should  sit  in  the  seat  of  the  learned, 
and  teach  even  women  with  your  written  scraps  I '  Be  silent, 
wretched  men.  You  say  this  because  you  are  blind  leaders 
of  the  blind.  ■  Bring  it  again  to  mind,  O  ye  transgressors  V 
and  diligently  consider  the  filthy  condition  in  which  you  are 

5  Ad  legem  semel  nubendi  dirigam.  Ipsa  origo  humani  generis  patro- 
cinatur,  constans  quid  Deus  ab  initio  constituent,  in  forraam  posteritatis 
recensendum.  Nam  quum  hominem  figurasset,  eique  parem  necessariam 
prospexisset,  unam  de  costis  ejus  mutuatus,  unam  illi  foeminam  finxit,  &c. 
— Tertull.  Exhort,  ad  Castit.  Cap.  V. 

6  Is.  xlvi.  8.     Redite  pra?varicatores  ad  cor. 


318  JOHN,    ABBOT  [NO.  XIX. 

lying.  I  wish  that  your  wicked  mind  may  repent,  and  may 
study,  in  some  degree,  to  imitate  the  pious  works  of  good 
women.  Is  not  this  woman  worthy  to  be  had  in  all  reverence, 
who  has  preferred  the  love  of  Christ  to  riches  and  honours  ? 
Therefore  it  was,  that  while  she  was  the  mistress  of  kingdoms, 
she  humbled  herself  and  became  the  servant  of  the  poor.  I 
say  nothing  of  her  having  traversed  almost  all  Italy,  most 
devoutly  visiting  the  relics  of  the  saints,  and  offering  to  them 
precious  gifts,  and  giving  great  alms  in  the  cities  and  towns, 
and  in  all  places  which  she  visited  to  pay  her  devotions ;  and 
because  the  narrow  limits  of  a  letter  will  not  permit  me  to 
dwell  longer  on  her  praise,  I  will  also  pass  over  the  fact, 
that  on  her  return  into  France  she  has,  in  like  manner,  com- 
forted the  poor  and  the  churches  of  God  with  a  liberal  hand ; 
as  it  is  written,  '  She  hath  dispersed,  she  hath  given  to  the 
poor,  her  righteousness  remaineth  for  ever."* 

"  But  setting  aside  these  persons,  who  blow  on  the  earth, 
and  raise  a  dust  to  blind  their  own  eyes,  lest  they  should  see 
themselves,  I  return  to  you,  venerable  handmaid  of  Christ, 
that  my  discourse,  which  I  began  for  your  instruction,  as  if  I 
had  been  present  conversing  with  you,  may,  by  the  help  of 
God,  be  carried  forward  to  the  completion  of  that  design. 
Therefore,  though  I  should  have  thought  that  those  little  com- 
pilations, made  according  to  my  poor  ability,  might  have 
sufficed  for  your  safety ;  yet  since  I  understand,  through 
some  friends,  that  you  wish  and  require  that  I  should  also 
copy  for  you  what  I  have  published  on  Divine  Contempla- 
tion, and  the  Love  of  Christ,  and  concerning  that  heavenly 
Jerusalem  which  is  the  mother  of  all  the  faithful,  I  confess 
that  my  heart  does  greatly  rejoice,  and  magnifies,  in  you,  God 
the  giver  of  all  good  things.  For  were  it  not  that,  under  the 
leading  of  Christ,  you  had  risen  to  higher  things,  going  from 
strength  to  strength,  you  never  could  have  had  the  power  to 
ask  such  a  thing.  Who  will  not  admire  to  see  a  soul  so 
fervent,  which,  still  drinking  the  streams  of  sweet  waters, 
ceases  not  to  thirst  ?  Very  foolish  and  very  obstinate  is  he 
who  despises  the  prayers  of  such  a  woman,  and  does  not 
accede  to  her  most  proper  requests.  As  to  myself,  revered 
mother,  here  I  am  quite  ready,  according  to  the  degree  of 
knowledge  which  God  has  given  me,  cheerfully  and  joyfully 
to  fulfil  your  wishes  in  all   things.     I  would  He   may  be  a 


NO.  XIX.]  OF    FESCAMP.  319 

spark  of  fire  within   me,   which  may  add  somewhat   to  my 
mind,  warmed  by  its  influence. 

"  Keceive,  therefore,  0  excellent  soul,  noble  example  of 
holy  widowhood,  accept,  with  a  watchful  mind,  this  little 
work,  which  you  desired,  and  which,  by  the  grace  of  Christ, 
I  have  compiled,  which  you  will  find  to  consist  chiefly  of 
sweet  words  of  heavenly  contemplation.  These  are  to  be 
reverently  read,  and  meditated  on  with  due  fear,  lest  coming 
to  them  in  a  cold  and  undevout  frame  of  mind,  you  be  judged 
guilty  of  rashness.  From  this  you  will  understand,  that  this 
book  is  chiefly  intended  for  the  use  of  those  who  do  not 
suffer  their  minds  to  be  darkened  with  carnal  desires  and 
worldly  lusts ;  and  when  these  things  are  read  with  tears  and 
great  devotion,  then  the  meek  reader  tastes,  with  the  palate 
of  his  heart,  the  inward  sweetness  which  is  hid  in  them.  If 
it  be  thus,  or  rather,  since  it  is  thus,  let  not  the  proud  and 
fastidious  mind  presume  to  meddle  with  the  secret  and  sub- 
lime words  of  the  divine  oracles,  lest  it  fall  into  error ;  for 
with  blind  eyes  it  cannot  behold  the  light.  Hence  it  comes 
that  many  rush,  through  heresy,  into  the  abyss  of  eternal 
damnation,  drawing  down  others  along  with  them  to  death ; 
because  the  mysteries  of  holy  scripture,  which  are  rooted  in 
heaven,  are  not  fully  intelligible  even  to  any  of  the  perfect  in 
this  world.  Only  they  who,  being  wise  with  the  wisdom  of 
God,  bring  forth  the  fruit  of  profound  humility,  understand 
so  much  as  the  Holy  Spirit  condescends  to  reveal  to  them. 
Therefore  read  these  things  often,  and  especially  when  you 
feel  your  mind  to  be  under  the  influence  of  heavenly  desire ; 
for  right  it  is  that  you,  whose  practice  in  active  life  is  so 
good,  should  take  the  wings  of  contemplation,  and,  soaring 
upwards,  should  drink  of  the  fountain  of  celestial  sweetness, 
saying  with  the  prophet,  '  With  thee  is  the  fountain  of  life, 
and  in  thy  light  we  shall  see  light :  my  soul  hath  thirsted  for 
God,  the  living  fountain.  Lord,  I  have  loved  the  beauty  of 
thy  house,  and  the  place  of  the  habitation  of  thy  glory  f  and 
what  we  find  in  the  song  of  love,  where  the  soul  which  loves 
God  only  addresses  Christ  her  beloved,  saying,  '  Thy  name 
is  as  ointment  poured  forth ;  therefore  do  the  virgins  love 
thee.  Draw  me,  we  will  run  after  thee.  (i.  3.)  My  beloved 
is  mine,  and  I  am  his  :  he  feedeth  among  the  lilies.  Until 
the  day  break,  and  the  shadows  flee  away.1  (ii.  1<>.) 


320  JOHN,    ABBOT  [XO.  XIX. 

"  With  regard  to  this  matter,  however,  it  must  be  known, 
that  that  chief  and  unchangeable  being,  who  is  God,  can  by 
no  means  be  seen  by  mortal  eyes  in  this  land  of  the  dying, 
nor  has  been  ever  seen  by  any  mortal,  since  the  time  when 
our  first  parent  was  driven  out  from  the  beauty  of  paradise 
into  this  state  of  trouble.  Hence  it  is  that  the  contemplative 
life  begins  here  ;  but  it  is  perfected  only  there,  where  God  is 
seen  face  to  face.  For  the  meek  and  simple  mind,  when  it  is 
raised  into  contemplation,  and,  overcoming  the  hindrances 
of  the  flesh,  penetrates  into  the  things  of  heaven,  is  not  per- 
mitted to  remain  long  thus  above  itself,  but  is  drawn  back  to 
inferior  things  by  the  burthen  of  the  flesh.  Yet,  though  it 
is  quickly  recalled  to  itself,  struck  back  by  the  infinite 
splendour  of  the  heavenly  light,  still  it  gains  great  strength 
even  from  this  one  thing — that  it  is  enabled  to  obtain  some 
foretaste  of  the  divine  sweetness ;  for  being  presently  fired 
with  great  love,  and  being  raised  by  it,  it  perceives  the 
impossibility  of  seeing  what  it  ardently  loves,  yet  could  not 
so  ardently  love  if  it  did  not  catch  some  glimpse  of  it.  There 
are  some  persons,  less  instructed,  who  conceive  of  God  as 
like  an  image,  because,  being  unhappily  scattered  abroad 
amidst  the  things  of  the  world,  they  are  incapable  of  the 
intellectual  contemplation  of  that  wonderful  and  unbounded 
light.  To  such,  what  is  the  eye  of  contemplation  but  a  snare 
of  perdition  I  Persons  of  this  description  are  to  be  warned 
that  they  content  themselves  with  the  exercises  of  active  life, 
without  presuming  to  ascend  the  mount  of  contemplation ; 
for  as  it  is  written,  l  The  carnal  mind  receiveth  not  the  things 
of  the  Spirit  of  God  ;'  and,  l  to  be  carnally  minded,  is  death/ 
For  the  human  mind,  unless  it  repels  the  desire  of  external 
things,  does  not  penetrate  those  which  are  internal ;  because 
the  more  clearly  it  discerns  invisible  things,  the  more  per- 
fectly it  despises  the  things  which  are  seen.  Therefore, 
although  God  is  in  his  nature  invisible  and  incomprehen- 
sible, yet  by  the  purified  and  holy  mind,  which  seeks  only 
the  things  that  are  above,  he  is,  even  here,  seen  without 
sight,  heard  without  sound,  received  without  motion,  touched 
though  immaterial,  present  though  not  circumscribed  by 
place. 

"  Having  premised  these  necessary  things,  I  beseech  you, 
dear  lady,  that  if  you  find  any  persons  who  wish  to  have  this 


NO.  XIX.]  OF    FESCAMP.  321 

book,  you  would  admonish  them  to  copy  it  carefully,  and  to 
read  it  over  several  times  after  they  have  written  it,  so  that 
they  may  not  suffer  anything  to  be  added,  omitted,  or 
altered.  We  say  this  because  of  the  carelessness  of  book- 
wi-iters,  who  not  only  corrupt  the  truth,  but  add  lie  to  lie. 
May  God  be  with  you,  and  may  his  hand  strengthen  you, 
that,  becoming  like  the  living  creature  with  wings  and  eyes, 
you  may  every  day  make  progress  in  both  modes  of  life — 
now  with  Martha  actively  serving  Christ  in  his  members, 
now  with  Mary  sitting  in  contemplation  at  the  feet  of  the 
Lord,  and  intently  listening  to  the  words  of  his  mouth — so 
that,  by  well  doing  and  pure  contemplation,  you  may  arrive 
at  that  beatific  vision  in  which  the  Son  speaketh  openly  of 
the  Father.  And  to  this,  for  his  mercy  and  his  goodness 
sake,  may  he  vouchsafe  to  lead  his  servants  and  his  hand- 
maids— He  who  descended  to  these  things  that  are  below, 
that  we  might  rise  to  those  which  are  above,  who  stooped 
that  he  might  raise  us,  who  became  weak  that  he  might 
make  us  strong,  who  took  our  life  that  he  might  give  us  his — 
for  He,  the  only  begotten,  is  co-eternal  with  the  Father,  who 
liveth  and  reigneth  with  him  in  the  unity  of  the  Holy  Spirit, 
God  throughout  all  ages.     Amen. 

"  I,  John,  the  lowest  of  the  servants  of  Christ,  and  the 
brethren  who  are  with  me,  salute  you  in  Christ ;  0  blessed 
lady,  pious  mother  of  the  poor,  and  noble  ornament  of  widow- 
hood, farewell. 

"  May  the  Omnipotent  Trinity  ever  keep  you  in  its  will  V 

Digression  ?  this  is  anything  in  the  world  but  a 
digression.  I  am  telling  a  plain  story  in  the  most 
straightforward  way  imaginable.  To  be  sure,  the  story, 
as  far  as  I  have  yet  got,  might  have  been  comprised  in 
three  words,  "  Udalricus  monachus  Cluniacensis ;"  or, 
I  might  have  said,  "  At  Clugni  there  was  a  monk  named 
Ulric  " — for  this  is,  I  admit,  all  the  progress  which  we 
have  yet  made  in  the  story,  without  having  even  ex- 
plained how  he  came  there;  but  then  my  readers 
would  have  slipped  over  it  at  once  ;  and,  as  it  respects 


Mab.  ubi  sup.  p.  133. 


322  ULRIC,    A    MONK  [NO.  XIX. 

too  many,  I  might  quite  as  well  have  been  more  brief 
still,  and  (giving  letters  instead  of  words  to  represent 
what  were,  in  fact,  unknown  quantities)  I  might  have 
said,  "  at  x  there  was  a  y  named  z?  This  would  have 
conveyed  to  many  persons,  whose  knowledge  on  other 
subjects  is  accurate  and  extensive,  nearly  as  much  in- 
formation as  to  the  where,  the  what,  and  the  who. 
Yet  it  is  most  particularly  this  which  I  wish  to  be 
understood ;  and,  therefore,  as  to  the  first,  I  have  very 
slightly  traced  Clugni  up  to  the  time  in  question ;  I 
have  endeavoured,  by  the  way,  to  give  some  idea  of 
what  it  was  to  be  a  monk  there,  and  now  we  are 
arrived  at  the  who — who  was  Ulric?  and  how  can  I 
answer  the  question  without  saying  something  of  his 
royal  patroness  ?  and  what  would  be  the  use  of  only 
saying  that  Ulric  was  the  favourite  of  the  Empress 
Agnes,  when  not  one  man  in  a  hundred  has  taken  the 
pains  to  satisfy  himself  of  her  existence,  and  fewer  still 
have  formed  any  opinion  whether  she  was  likely  to 
patronize  a  young  courtier  for  his  virtues  or  for  his 
vices  ?  And  how  could  I  speak  of  her  without  saying- 
something  about  the  little  abbot,  even  supposing  that 
I  had  no  wish  to  bring  him  in,  or  to  give  the  reader 
an  incidental  peep  at  the  mysticism  (I  use  the  word 
with  reverence)  of  the  dark  ages  ? — a  subject  which 
seems  to  me  most  interesting  and  instructive,  of  which 
I  have  hitherto  said  nothing,  and  of  which  I  believe 
little,  if  anything,  ever  has  been  said  in  our  language. 
But,  without  any  such  collateral  view,  it  was  quite 
necessary  to  mention  the  little  Abbot  John ;  and, 
indeed,  I  had  it  in  my  mind  to  have  said  something 
about  his  correspondence  with  William  the  Conqueror ; 
only  then  I  thought  some  persons  would  really  charge 
me  with  digression — especially  those  for  whose  sake  I 
thought  of  doing  it,  and  who  might  not  be  aware  that 
1  only  went  out  of  my  way  in  order  to  hook  the  matter 


NO.  XIX.]  OF    CLUGNI.  323 

over  one  of  the  very  few  pegs  which  the  minds  of 
people  in  general  present,  on  which  to  hang  the  occur- 
rences of  the  dark  ages. 

So  I  say  nothing  of  it;  but  go  straight  on  with 
Ulric,  who  was  (though  not  yet)  a  monk  of  Clugni.  I 
wish  I  knew  more  of  his  uncle,  who  was  Bishop  of 
Frisingen ;  but  all  that  I  find  is,  that  (led,  I  presume, 
by  the  disposition  of  the  youth  which  has  been  de- 
scribed) he  invited  him  to  come  to  him,  ordained  him, 
and  at  length  made  him  Prior  of  the  Canons.  While 
he  held  this  station,  he  was  accompanying  the  Emperor 
on  a  journey  into  Lombardy,  with  a  view  to  proceed 
into  Italy,  when  he  learned  that  the  body  of  which  he 
was  a  member  was  in  great  distress,  through  a  famine 
which  extended  over  several  districts.  He  obtained 
reluctant  permission  from  the  Emperor,  and  returned 
in  haste,  mortgaged  his  hereditary  possessions,  and 
relieved  the  distress  of  others  beside  his  own  brethren. 
After  this,  he  determined  on  a  pilgrimage  to  Jerusalem. 
"  The  anxieties  and  labours  which  he  underwent  by  the 
way,"  says  his  biographer,  "  namely,  in  the  badness  of 
the  roads,  by  perils  from  men  and  by  sea,  I  pass  over 
briefly,  lest  the  prolixity  of  my  narrative  should  tire 
the  reader.  But  this  I  ought  by  no  means  to  omit, 
that  every  day,  before  he  mounted  his  horse,  he  repeated 
the  Psalms."  On  his  return  he  found  that  his  uncle 
was  dead,  and  that  the  see  of  Frisingen,  as  well  as  his 
own  priorate,  was  filled  by  a  successor.  He  had,  as  has 
been  already  stated,  mortgaged  his  private  property, 
and  he  was  therefore  somewhat  at  a  loss  for  a  mainte- 
nance. The  prior  of  the  canons  of  Ratisbon,  however, 
who  was  his  relation,  kindly  took  him  in  until  he  could 
redeem  his  estates.  Having  at  length  effected  this,  bis 
first  idea  was  to  found  a  monastery;  but  the  circum- 
stances of  the  times,  and  the  irreligion  of  the  bishops 
(says  his  monkish  biographer),  prevented  his  fulfilling 

y2 


324  ULRIC,    A    MONK  [NO.  XIX. 

that  design,  and  he  therefore  determined  to  devote 
himself,  and  all  that  he  had,  to  the  Lord,  and  to 
embrace  the  monastic  life.  He  began,  therefore,  to 
distribute  his  goods  to  the  poor,  among  whom  he  very 
justly  numbered  the  nuns  of  a  convent  near  Ratisbon, 
whose  finances  were  so  low  that  they  were  obliged  to 
be  content  with  an  allowance  of  half  a  pound  of  bread 
(part  white  and  part  black)  per  day.  He  gave  them 
land  enough  to  provide  them  with  a  pound  of  white 
bread  per  clay,  and  also  to  enable  them  to  maintain 
seven  poor  persons.  Having  thus  disposed  of  all  his 
property,  except  so  much  as  was  necessary  for  the 
effecting  his  purpose,  he  resolved  to  enter  into  a  mo- 
mastery.  He  was  unwilling  to  go  alone,  and  persuaded 
Gerald,  a  scholar  of  Ratisbon,  to  accompany  him ;  and 
having  formed  this  resolution,  they  first  made  a  pil- 
grimage to  Rome,  and  then,  having  heard  a  high  cha- 
racter of  Clugni  (cujus  religionem  longe  lateque  prsedi- 
cari  audierant)  they  determined  to  go  thither.  There 
they  were  received  by  the  Abbot  Hugo,  who,  as  I 
have  already  said,  had  obtained  that  office  in  the  year 
1049. 

We  may  dismiss  Gerald  at  once  by  saying  that  he 
afterwards  became  Bishop  of  Ostia.  As  to  Ulric,  I 
need  not  repeat  all  that  his  biographer  tells  us  of  his 
mild,  humble,  and  affectionate  disposition ;  he  loved, 
and  was  beloved  by,  all,  but  especially  shewed  his  con- 
stant care  and  kindness  to  the  novices.  Considering 
them  as  persons  peculiarly  in  want  of  instruction  and 
consolation,  he  sent  for  them  and  taught  them  with 
assiduous  benevolence.  Indeed  he  seems  to  have  had 
not  only  a  talent,  but  a  taste,  for  this  sort  of  teaching, 
which  led  him  into  a  practice  somewhat  out  of  the 
common  way,  and  which  gave  offence  to  some  of  his 
brethren.  He  used  to  write  "sweet  and  salubrious" 
letters  of  advice,  and  to  send  them  privately  to  abbots 


NO.  XIX.]  OF    CLUGNI.  325 

and  monks,  confirming  the  moral  and  religions,  and 
recalling  those  who  had  erred  from  the  way  of  truth. 
Some  of  the  monks  made  a  formal  complaint,  but  the 
"  abbas  discretissimus "  seems  to  have  thought  that 
there  was  no  great  harm  in  the  matter ;  and,  in  fact, 
the  next  thing  of  which  we  read  shews  that  his  confi- 
dence in  Ulric  was  undiminished — perhaps  increased — 
by  what  transpired  during  the  inquiry.  Ulric  was  sent 
to  take  the  superintendence  of  a  nunnery  which  the 
abbot  had  founded  at  Marcigni.  While  there,  owing 
to  his  long  vigils  and  his  continual  writing,  (per  scri- 
bendi  laborem  continuum,)  he  suffered  from  pain  in  his 
head.  To  relieve  this,  he  Avashed  his  head  with  worm- 
wood, and  on  one  occasion  he  managed  so  to  get  a 
fragment  into  his  eye  that  he  could  not  get  it  out. 
Having  suffered  from  it  for  six  months,  he  returned  to 
Clugni,  and  begged  leave  to  resign  his  charge. 

Shortly  after  this,  Lutold,  the  rich  and  powerful  lord 
of  the  castle  of  Rumelingen,  and  his  wife,  having  no 
children,  signified  their  intention  of  devoting  their  pro- 
perty to  the  service  of  God,  and  offered  it  on  the  altar 
of  St.  Peter  and  St.  Paul,  at  Clugni.  On  his  request 
that  some  of  the  brethren  might  be  sent  with  him  to 
found  a  monastery,  Ulric  and  another  were  deputed  for 
that  purpose.  They  chose  a  site  ;  but,  winter  coming 
on,  they  were  obliged  to  defer  the  building  until  the 
spring ;  and  in  the  meantime,  declining  the  society  of 
the  laymen  among  whom  they  were  cast,  they  retired 
to  a  cave  about  two  miles  off,  where  they  proposed  to 
live  in  solitude.  In  this  they  were  disappointed  ;  for 
Ulric  having  preached  to  some  few  strangers  who  came 
to  look  at  them  from  curiosity,  the  numbers  increased, 
and  he  was  soon  surrounded  by  multitudes  of  the  rude 
natives,  Christians  only  in  name,  to  whom  he  had  an 
opportunity  of  making  known  the  gospel. 

After  the   winter,  they   set  to  work,   and    were   cor- 


326  ULRIC,    A    MONK  [NO    XIX. 

dially  assisted  by  all  the  neighbourhood,  except  two 
priests,  who  wTere  afraid  that  they  should  lose  their  fees 
by  the  erection  of  this  monastery,  and  who  therefore 
did  all  they  could  to  set  the  people  against  the  monks 
and  their  design.  One  of  these  priests  told  his  congre- 
gation, in  the  course  of  a  sermon,  that  a  certain  poison- 
ous herb  was  springing  up  in  that  part  of  the  country, 
which,  if  it  came  to  bear  fruit,  would  fill  the  whole 
land  with  its  poison.  The  simple  people  were  horror- 
struck,  and  inquired  if  there  were  no  marks  by  which 
they  might  distinguish,  and  no  means  by  which  they 
might  eradicate,  such  a  perilous  plant;  and  the 
preacher  enlightened  them  by  saying,  "  Those  monks 
coming  into  these  parts  from  the  monastery  of  Clugni, 
full  of  deceit,  avarice,  and  envy,  expose  you  to  great 
danger ;  for  if  they  get  a  footing  among  you,  and  cause 
the  hurtful  seeds  of  their  preaching  to  grow  up  in  your 
hearts,  whatever  good  work  may  have  been  wrought  in 
you  by  my  care  will  soon  be  destroyed,  and  you  will 
bring  forth  no  fruit  of  virtue.  Having,  therefore, 
prayed  to  God  that  his  divine  goodness  would  vouch- 
safe to  remove  them  from  you,  earnestly  pray  also  that 
their  deceitful  doctrine  and  feigned  sanctity  may  not 
deceive  your  senses,  and  (which  God  forbid)  draw  you 
aside  from  the  way  of  salvation."  Some  of  his  hearers 
implicitly  followed  his  directions,  and  forthwith  began 
to  pray,  but  the  more  prudent  hesitated.  Soon  after, 
the  priest  was  benighted,  and  fairly  lost  his  way,  and 
saw  no  alternative  but  to  ask  for  shelter  from  the 
monks,  who  were  perfectly  aware  of  his  feelings  and 
practices  against  them.  Between  hope  and  fear,  he 
resolved  to  try  the  experiment.  Ulric  went  out  to 
meet  him,  received  him  cheerfully,  and,  according  to 
monastic  rule,  first  led  him  to  prayers,  then  embraced 
him,  and  gave  him  the  kiss  of  peace,  talked  kindly  witli 
him,  and  shewed  him  all  hospitality.     The  next  day. 


NO.  XIX.]  OF    CLUGNI.  327 

after  having  been  kindly  dismissed,  the  priest's  con- 
science smote  him,  and  on  the  succeeding  Sunday  he 
frankly  told  his  congregation  that  he  had  been  to  blame 
in  abusing  the  monks,  and  instead  of  telling  them  as 
before,  to  pray  against  Ulric  and  his  companion,  he 
besought  them  to  pray  that  God  would  pardon  the  sin 
which  he  had  committed  in  defaming  them.  Sincere 
friendship  ensued,  and  the  priest  and  his  parishioners 
set  to  work  with  all  their  heart  to  help  the  monks 
build  the  monastery. 

I  mention  these  circumstances  because  they  throw 
light  on  our  general  subject ;  but  it  would  be  tedious 
to  particularize  all  that  Ulric  did  in  this  way.  He  was 
evidently  considered  a  peculiarly  fit  person  to  be  em- 
ployed in  founding  cells  and  monasteries,  and  bringing 
them  into  order,  being,  as  his  biographer  says,  "in 
omni  norma  coenobialis  vita?  ad  unguem  edoctus."  Yet, 
with  all  his  engagement  in  active  business,  Ulric  was  a 
reading,  thinking,  praying  man;  and  his  biographer 
recounts  the  circle  of  his  principal  employments  as 
prayer,  reading,  teaching,  copying,  and  composing.  It 
is  enough  here  to  say,  that  he  founded  the  monastery 
of  La  Celle,  and  presided  over  it  from  its  foundation 
until  his  death.  He  had  long  lost  the  sight  of  one  eve, 
and  two  years  before  his  death  he  became  totally  blind. 
During  that  period  he  devoted  himself,  with  less  avo- 
cation, to  prayer,  psalmody,  and  listening  to  sacred 
reading ;  and  he  died,  at  an  advanced  age,  in  the  year 
1093. 

Ulric  was  a  monk  of  Clugni — that  is  all  which  I 
\\  ish  the  reader  to  take  with  him,  and  we  will  at  once 
change  the  scene  for  the  Black  Forest,  in  the  diocese 
of  Spier.  At  the  same  time  that  Hugo  was  Abbot  of 
Clugni,  and  was  extending  its  fame  and  dependencies 
by  the  ministry  of  Ulric,  the  monastery  of  Hirschau 
was  governed  by  the  Abbot  William,     lie  was  a  Bava- 


328  WILLIAM,    ABBOT  [NO.  XIX. 

rian  by  birth,  and  born  of  honest  parents,  who  offered 
him  in  his  childhood  at  the  monastery  of  St.  Emme- 
ram,  in  Ratisbon,  where  he  was  educated,  and  made 
great  proficiency  both  in  sacred  and  profane  learning — 
tarn  in  divinis  scripturis,  quam  in  saaculari  philosophia 
doctissimus  evasit.  "  No  one,"  adds  Trithemius,  the 
historian  of  his  monastery,  "  ever  saw  him  idle,  no  one 
engaged  in  frivolous  pursuits ;  he  was  always  devoted 
to  prayer  and  reading,  or  some  manual  occupation 
which  his  obedience  required.  He  became  very  learned 
in  all  sorts  of  knowledge,  and  in  a  short  time  made 
such  progress  in  what  are  called  the  liberal  arts,  that 
he  got  beyond  his  teachers.  In  philosophy  he  became 
a  most  acute  disputant ;  in  music  he  was  unusually 
learned,  and  composed  many  and  various  chants  in 
honour  of  the  saints.  How  skilful  he  was  in  astro- 
nomy, mathematics,  and  arithmetic,  his  works  testify : 
on  these  subjects  he  bestowed  much  pains 8."  I  need 
not  add  to  this  all  that  we  are  told  of  his  virtues  as  an 
abbot,  or  of  his  fame,  honour,  and  extended  influence. 

Still  less  need  I  recount  the  miracles  which  he  is 
said  to  have  performed,  or  even  notice  any  but  one, 
which  Trithemius  himself,  though  he  records  the  others, 
declares  to  be  the  greatest.  Indeed,  I  see  no  reason 
to  suppose  that  the  abbot  ever  pretended  to  any  such 
power  as  some  of  his  admirers  seem  to  have  supposed 
that  he  must  have  possessed ;  but  Trithemius,  after 
mentioning  some  wonderful  things  ascribed  to  him, 
while  for  the  sake  of  brevity  he  omitted  others,  adds — 
"  But  of  all  his  miracles  I  consider  this  to  have  been 
the  greatest — that,  in  the  midst  of  a  perverse  nation, 
he  shone  forth  as  a  most  excellent  man ;  and  in  so  dan- 
gerous a  time  of  discord  between  the  church  and  the 
state,  he  maintained  an  unspotted  course  in  the  paths 

8  Chron.  Ilirsaug.     Tom.  I.  j>.  221,  sub  an.  1070. 


NO.  XIX.]  OF    HIRSCHAl'.  320 

of  righteousness."  He  goes  on  to  say  that  the  Abbot 
William  restored  the  order  of  St.  Benedict,  which  had 
almost  fallen  into  ruin  in  Germany;  and  that  he  was, 
either  by  himself  or  his  agents,  the  means  of  founding- 
eight  monasteries,  and  restoring  more  than  an  hundred ; 
so  that,  next  to  the  reformation  wrought  by  the  found- 
ation and  influence  of  Clugni,  his  work  of  reform  was 
the  most  important  which  was  to  be  found  in  the 
annals  of  his  order.  The  monks  of  his  own  monastery 
(whom,  notwithstanding  that  he  was  continually  send- 
ing them  out  to  the  monasteries  which  he  founded  or 
restored,  he  contrived  to  keep  up  to  the  number  of  an 
hundred  and  fifty)  "  were  perpetually  employed,  either 
in  the  performance  of  divine  service,  or  in  prayer,  medi- 
tation, and  sacred  reading.  Those  who  appeared  less 
fit  to  be  employed  in  sacred  things  were  appointed  to 
perform  such  manual  labours  as  were  necessary,  so  that 
none  of  their  time  might  pass  in  idleness.  The  holy 
father,  knowing,  moreover,  what  he  had  learned  by 
laudable  experience,  that  sacred  reading  is  the  neces- 
sary food  of  the  mind,  made  twelve  of  his  monks  very 
excellent  writers,  to  whom  he  committed  the  office  of 
transcribing  the  holy  scriptures  and  the  treatises  of  the 
fathers.  Beside  these,  there  were  an  indefinite  number 
of  other  scribes,  who  wrought  with  equal  diligence  in 
the  transcription  of  other  books.  Over  them  was  a 
monk  well  versed  in  all  kinds  of  knowledge,  whose 
business  it  was  to  appoint  some  good  work  as  a  task 
for  each,  and  to  correct  the  mistakes  of  those  who 
wrote  negligently.  In  the  course  of  time"  [for  William 
was  abbot  two  and  twenty  years]  "  the  monks  wrote  a 
great  many  volumes;  but  a  very  small  part  remained 
at  Hirschau;  for  the  holy  father,  who  was  always  more 
anxious  to  win  and  to  profit  souls  than  about  all  things 
else  in  the  world,  whenever  he  sent  forth  any  of  the 
monks  toother  monasteries  to  reform  them,  cheerfully, 


330  WILLIAM,    ABBOT  [NO.  XIX. 

and  of  his  own  free  will,  gave  them  books,  and  whatever 
else  they  thought  necessary ;  and  forasmuch  as  the 
monasteries  which  he  reformed  were  many,  a  very 
small  part  of  the  great  multitude  of  books  which  he 
caused  to  be  transcribed  remained  at  Hirschau.  Oh, 
every  way  praiseworthy  man,  who  preferred  souls  re- 
deemed by  the  blood  of  Christ  to  the  advantage  of 
transitory  gain,  and  consulted  the  benefit  of  others 
instead  of  seeking  the  perishable  riches  of  the  world  ! 
Truly  this  is  a  virtue  to  be  found  in  few — that  abbots 
should  strip  their  own  monasteries,  either  of  ornaments 
or  books,  to  supply  the  wants  of  others  V 

The  Abbot  William  himself  may  now  tell  that  part 
of  his  history,  for  the  sake  of  which  I  have  introduced 
him : — 

"  After  that  I,  brother  William,  had  been  called,  by  the 
providence  of  God  and  the  election  of  the  brethren  of 
Hirschau,  to  the  government  of  that  place,  I  appointed  for 
them,  in  the  first  instance,  those  customs  of  monastic  life 
which  I  had  learned  from  my  childhood  in  the  monastery  of 
St.  Emmeram ;  but  as,  through  the  gradual  negligence  of 
monastic  rigour  which  succeeded,  there  seemed  to  be  in 
many  things  a  degeneracy  from  that  high  tone  of  life  and 
conversation  which  it  imparts,  I  resolved  that,  wherever, 
either  by  seeing  or  hearing,  or  by  reading  sacred  books,  I 
should  meet  with  things  tending  to  improve  the  conversation 
of  the  brethren,  I  would  collect  them  together,  as  living 
stones  for  the  erection  of  a  spiritual  building.  And  while  I 
commended  this  my  resolution  with  earnest  and  constant 
prayer  to  Him  '  who  fulfils  the  desire  of  his  faithful  in  good 
things  10,">  through  the  wonderful  and  merciful  providence  of 
God,  that  venerable  man,  worthy  to  be  had  in  remembrance 
by  all  good  men,  Bernard,  Abbot  of  Marseilles,  having 
executed  his  office  as  apostolical  legate,  came  to  us,  and, 
owing   to   the   difficulty   of    prosecuting    his    journey   as   he 


8  Trith.  ubi  sup.  227. 

10  Qui  replet  in  bonis  desiderium  iideliura  suorum. — Vulg.  Ps.  cii.  5. 


NO.  XIX.]  OF    HIRSCHAU.  331 

desired,  stayed  with  us  nearly  a  year.  After  he  had  parti- 
cularly examined  the  mode  of  life  pursued  by  our  monks, 
and  the  state  of  our  monastery,  he  one  day,  in  the  course  of 
conversation  on  other  matters  relating  to  a  spiritual  life,  thus 
addressed  me  : — i  I  see,  my  dearest  brother,  that  this  place  is 
remarkably  adapted  to  monastic  life,  and  the  monks  appear 
to  be  animated  with  a  most  ardent  desire  to  lead  a  life  of 
holiness  and  righteousness ;  but  I  should  like  to  know  by 
whom  you  have  been  chiefly  guided  as  to  your  regulations, 
and  from  what  monastery  in  particular  you  have  derived 
those  customs  which  are  traditional  V  I  replied  : — '  It  is  our 
desire,  as  far  as  we  can,  to  imitate  all  the  religious  men  of 
our  order ;  but  if,  in  any  point  where  we  have  erred,  you  will 
condescend  to  bring  us  back  into  the  right  way,  you  may 
rest  assured  that  we  shall  be  most  prompt  to  follow  wherever 
your  good  counsel  may  lead  us.' — '  Your  manner  of  life,' 
said  he,  4  as  far  as  my  poor  judgment  goes,  seems  to  be  such 
as  must  be  acceptable  to  God,  and  admirable  in  the  eyes 
of  all  wise  men ;  but  even  if  it  were  more  glorious,  and  (if  I 
may  so  speak)  were  shining  forth  with  apostolic  signs  and 
powers,  yet,  to  those  who  are  simply  looking  for  the  perfec- 
tion of  monastic  life,  it  would  be  rendered  more  graceful  and 
acceptable  if  it  were  assimilated  to  regularly  constituted 
monasteries  in  dress,  tonsure,  and  other  customs.  And,  if 
you  ask  my  opinion,  among  all  the  monasteries  of  Cisalpine 
Gaul  I  should  most  particularly  recommend  you  to  select 
Clugni,  where,  both  by  the  authority  of  the  most  perfect 
monks,  and  the  lapse  of  a  great  length  of  time,  the  monastic 
life  has  grown  up  to  such  a  degree  of  strength  and  splendor, 
that  if  there  are  still  any  traces  of  holiness  to  be  seen  in 
other  monasteries,  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  these  little 
streams  have  flowed  from  thence  as  from  a  living  and  inex- 
haustible spring/  In  these  and  similar  admonitions  he  was, 
as  we  '$ay;  spurring  the  free  horse ;  and  having  finished  the 
diplomatic  business  for  which  he  had  come,  he  returned 
home.  By  the  way,  he  visited  Clugni,  and  most  particularly 
commended  us  to  the  abbot,  so  as  to  predispose  him  to  shew 
us  all  kindness,  in  case  we  should  apply  to  him.  About  the 
same  time,  Ulric,  a  senior  monk  of  Clugni,  who  was,  through 
the  providence  of  God,  sent  into  Germany  on  some  business 
relating  to  his  monastery,  stayed  some  time  with  us ;  and  as 


332  ULRIC    ON    THE  [NO.  XX. 

we  had  formerly  been  on  the  most  intimate  terms,  and  he 
had  had  long  experience  in  the  discipline  of  Clugni,  I  asked 
him  to  write  out  their  customs  for  our  benefit.  He  consented, 
promised,  and,  according  to  his  promise,  he  wrote  two  books 
concerning  those  customs  for  us.  Afterwards,  considering 
that  many  things  were  wanting  in  those  books  for  a  full 
knowledge  of  the  customs,  I  first  sent  two  of  our  monks, 
then  two  more,  and  afterwards  a  third  couple,  to  Clugni, 
who  so  thoroughly  investigated  all  the  most  obscure  things 
of  that  order,  that  their  teachers,  in  whose  hearing  they 
recited  what  they  had  written  on  the  customs,  affirmed  that 
there  had  never  been  any  scholars  in  that  spiritual  school 
who  had  more  fully  or  more  truly  understood  the  nature  of 
their  institution  V 


No.  XX. 


"  The  abbots  took  the  scriptures  from  their  monks,  lest  some  should 
ever  bark  against  the  abbots'  living,  and  set  up  such  long  service  and 
singing,  to  weary  them  withal,  that  they  should  have  no  leisure  to  read  in 
the  scripture  but  with  their  lips,  and  made  them  good  cheer  to  fill  their 
bellies,  and  to  stop  their  mouths." — Tyndale's  Practice  of  Prelates. 

When  Ulric  (who,  the  reader  may  recollect,  was  a 
monk  of  Clugni)  had  written  his  book,  he  sent  it  to  the 
Abbot  William,  at  whose  request,  and  for  whose  bene- 
fit, he  had  composed  it.  With  it  he  sent  a  letter,  some 
part  of  which  is  so  much  to  our  purpose  that  I  must 
make  an  extract : — 

"  To  the  most  reverend  lord,  and  most  pious  father, 
William,  Abbot  of  Hirschau,  and  to  the  holy  company  of 
monks  under  his  government,  brother  Ulric,  a  monk,  such 
as  he  is,  wishes  health  in  the  Lord,  and  his  most  speedy 
blessing  here  and  hereafter. 

"  The  daily  remembrance  of  yourself,  and  of  your  monas- 


1  Mab.  Anal.  p.  154. 


NO.  XX.]  CUSTOMS    OF    CLUGNI.  333 

tery,   dearest   father,  has   really    become   so  habitual   to  me 
that  now,  through  the  mere  force  of  habit,   as    well   as    of 
affection,  it    would  be    impossible   for  any  day  to  pass   over 
without  it.     Sometimes,  too,   I  have  the  very  agreeable  and 
grateful  recollection  of  your  promise  that  you   would  be   on 
your  guard  against   the  disposition  of  some  secular  persons 
who,  caring  very  little  for  aught  but  the  things  of  this  world, 
when  they  have  got  a  house,  as  I  may  say,  full  of  sons  and 
daughters — or   if  any  of  their   children    should   be   halt,    or 
maimed,  or  deaf,  or  blind,  or  deformed,  or  leprous,  or  with 
anything  about  him  that  may  render  him  less  acceptable  to 
the  world,  they  are  wonderfully  anxious  to  devote  him  to  the 
service  of  God,  and   make   a   monk   of  him  ;    though   it   is 
obviously  not  for  God's  sake,    but   only   that   they   may  rid 
themselves  of  the  burden  of  educating  and  maintaining  such 
children,  or  be   able   to   do  more  for  their   others.     To  say 
nothing,   therefore,  of  those  who  do  not  want  bodily  health 
and  sound  limbs,   what  evils  have  we   known  to  arise  from 
those  who  can  only  be  called  half-men,  or,  at  least,  only  half- 
alive  ?     Were  it  expedient,  it  would  be  easy  to  name  one  who 
was  induced  to  adopt  the  habit  of  sanctity  by  no  other  holi- 
ness than  the  reproach  of  scurvy ;  and  another  who,  had  it 
not  been  that   his  foot,    [something   wanting  in   the   manu- 
script,] both  of  whom,  as  you  can  testify,  set  no  very  good 
example.     How  much  less,  then,  can  we  expect  from  those 
who  are  in  good  health,  wherever  they  are  collected  together 
in  such  number,  and  with  such  influence,  that  the  regulation 
of  the  monastery  is  in  their  hands  ?     Truly,  every  body  may 
know  what  sort  of  life  and  conversation,  and  what  degree  of 
regular  discipline,  is  maintained,   if  he  does  but    know   that 
monks  of  this  description  are  at  the  head  of  affairs.     In  fact, 
it  is  a  thing  obvious  and  notorious,   that   if  any  strict  disci- 
pline, in  this  our  spiritual  warfare,  is  to  be  maintained  among 
the  pollutions  of  our  time,  it  can  be  only  where  those   who 
have  renounced  the  world,  and   embraced  the  monastic  life, 
not  in  the  age  of  caprice  and  levity,  or  by  command  of  their 
parents,  but  of  their  own  free  will,  at  mature  age,  and  in 
single  obedience  to  the  command  of  Christ,  are  predominant 
in  number  and  authority. 

"  Your  prudence   duly  weighing   this — although  you    wen; 
yourself  brought  up  in  a  monastery,    (for  it   does  sometin 


334  ULRIC    ON    THE  [NO.  XX. 

happen  that  the  lily  will  spring  up  among  thorns,)  and  being 
careful  for  nothing  so  much  as  to  take  all  measures  of  caution, 
and  such  as  might  conduce  to  the  solid  establishment  of 
religion,  you  have  made  a  law  in  your  monastery  which  com- 
pels the  secular  persons  whom  I  have  mentioned  to  seek 
some  other  nest  wherein  to  deposit  their  abortive  and  dis- 
inherited young  ones.  By  God's  providence,  they  will  no 
longer  be  able  to  carry  on  their  practice  of  laying  (as  the 
prophet  speaks)  cockatrice  eggs,  and  that  which  ■  shall  be 
hatched  into  a  basilisk  Y  and  giving  them  in  charge  to  pious 
men,  devoted  to  the  service  of  God,  perverting  their  office 
into  that  of  serving-maids  and  nurses.  Others  may  form  what 
opinion  they  please  on  the  subject ;  but,  for  my  own  part,  I 
am  certain  that  you  have  struck  at  the  root  of  that  evil  by 
which  all  those  monasteries  have  been  ruined  which  have 
fallen  either  in  France  or  Germany.  *  *         * 

You  will  observe,  that,  in  what  I  have  written,  I  have  repre- 
sented us  as  talking  together  ;  for,  if  you  recollect,  we  did 
converse  a  great  deal  on  the  subject.  And  if  I  should  seem 
to  have  added  anything,  yet  even  this  your  mouth  and  your 
tongue  hath  spoken,  for  not  only  my  tongue,  but  my  whole 
self,  is  yours ;  not  to  say  that  Christ  hath  bound  us  to  each 
other  in  the  unity  of  the  Spirit,  in  one  body,  that  is  the 
church — under  one  head,  that  is  Himself.  Yet,  since  per- 
sonally I  am  inconsiderable  and  obscure,  barbarous  in  name, 
and  rude  in  style,  it  has  appeared  to  me  that  it  would  be 
unbecoming  to  mention  such  a  name  as  mine,  or  to  follow 
the  usual  course  of  prefixing  a  preface.  Nevertheless,  as  this 
compilation,  such  as  it  is,  consists  of  three  parts,  I  have  begun 
each  of  them  with  some  sentences  which  may  pass  for  a  sort 
of  procemium,  chiefly  on  your  account,  and  that  of  our  other 
brethren,  whose  good  example,  having  seen  it,  I  could  not 
willingly  pass  over  in  silence." 

Ulric's  book  is  still  in  existence 2 ;  and  though  we 
may  easily  imagine  that,  when  the  Abbot  William 
came  to  act  upon  the  written  descriptions  of  rites  and 
ceremonies  and  customs,  (minute  and  even  prolix  as 
those  descriptions  may  appear   to  us,)   doubts  would 

1   Is.  lix.  5.  -  Dach.  Spicil.  I.  641. 


NO.  XX.]  CUSTOMS    OF    CLUGNI.  335 

frequently  arise,  yet  the  work  is  one  of  the  most  valu- 
able and  useful  relics  which  time  has  spared,  for  giving 
us  an  insight  into  the  real  nature  of  monastic  life,  in 
the  tenth  and  eleventh  centuries.  Its  actual  composi- 
tion appears  to  have  taken  place  between  the  years 
1077  and  1093,  but  it  must  be  recollected  that  it  was 
not  so  much  intended  as  an  account  of  new  inventions, 
as  of  long-established  customs.  In  fact,  it  consisted  of 
the  reminiscences  of  an  old  man,  and  had  reference  to 
regulations  most  of  which  were  probably  as  old  as  the 
monastery  of  Clugni  itself.  The  brief  prooemium  pre- 
fixed to  the  first  book  is  as  follows  : — 

"  Our  senior  lord  abbot  once  sent  me  into  Germany,  on 
what  business  it  is  not  worth  while  to  state  ;  what  is  to  the 
present  purpose  is,  that  on  that  occasion  I  took  the  opportu- 
nity of  visiting  that  venerable  man  the  Lord  Abbot  William, 
whose  monastery  is  situated  in  the  Black  Forest,  in  the  dio- 
cese of  Spier.  This  father  having  been  known,  and  very 
much  attached,  to  me  from  a  child,  received  me  joyfully  ;  and 
when  I  would  have  gone  further,  like  another  Cleophas,  he 
made  me  stay  some  days  longer  with  him.  During  this 
period,  I  had  a  great  deal  of  discourse  with  him,  (indeed,  so 
far  as  he  could  manage,  it  was  continual,)  respecting  the  cus- 
toms of  our  monastery ;  a  subject  which  he  introduced  by 
saying,  l  Your  monastery,  my  dearest  brother,  through  God's 
mercy,  has  acquired  a  great  character  for  religion  in  our 
parts  ;  and  we  are  inclined  to  think  that,  among  all  those  of 
which  we  have  any  knowledge,  there  is  none  which  can  com- 
pare with  it  in  rule  and  discipline.  You  will  do  us  a  great 
favour  if  you  will  make  us  acquainted  with  the  customs  and 
regulations  of  your  predecessors.  For  even  if  we  do  not 
ourselves  practise  them,  it  may  tend  to  our  edification,  in 
humility,  to  know  that  your  life  and  conversation  is  such  as 
our  infirmity  is  unable  or  unwilling  to  attain  to.1  I  replied, 
4  I  am  going  to  eat  your  bread,  and  it  were  unreasonable  that 
I  should  hesitate  to  fulfil  your  wishes.  At  the  same  time, 
one  who  has  only  lived  in  our  monastery  as  almost  a  barba- 
rian unto  them  in  respect  of  language,  and  not  brought  up 
there  from  childhood,  cannot  be  expected  to  have  such  a  per- 


336  ULRIC    ON    THE  [\0.  XX. 

feet  knowledge  on  all  points  as  if  he  had  been  a  native  of  the 
country,  and  educated  in  those  customs  from  infancy.  You 
must  not,  therefore,  be  surprised  if  I  do  not  know  much, 
who,  during  almost  the  first  thirty  years  of  my  life,  cared  but 
little  for  aught  but  the  things  of  this  world.  What  I  do 
know,  however,  I  shall  willingly  tell  :  what,  then,  will  you 
put  as  your  first  question  V  n 

The  first  chapter,  which  is  entitled  Quomodo  Testa- 
mentum  legatur  utrumque,  then  begins  in  the  following 
manner : — 

"  Question. — I  hear  that  your  lessons  in  the  winter  and  on 
common  nights  are  very  long  ;  will  you  be  pleased  to  state  at 
once  the  manner  in  which  the  Old  and  New  Testament  is 
read,  both  in  summer  and  winter  \ 

"  Answer. — To  begin  with  the  most  ancient  of  all  the  books, 
that  is,  the  Octateuch — this  book,  according  to  general  cus- 
tom, and  as  it  is  in  other  churches,  is  appointed  to  be  read  in 
Septuagesima.  On  the  Sunday  itself  there  are  but  short 
lessons ;  except,  that,  for  the  first,  the  whole  of  that  pro- 
logue, Desiderii  mei3,  is  read.  During  the  following  nights, 
the  lessons  are  so  much  increased,  that  in  one  week  the  whole 
book  of  Genesis  is  read  through  in  the  church  only.  On 
Sexagesima,  Exodus  is  begun,  and  together  with  the  other 
books  which  are  read,  it  also  is  read,  both  in  the  church  and 
in  the  refectory  ;  so  that  where  the  lesson  finished  one  day 
shall  be  the  beginning  of  the  lesson  for  the  next ;  and  the 
whole  Octateuch  is  read  through,  if  not  before,  by  the  begin- 
ning of  Lent.  Lessons  are,  however,  taken  from  it  for  the 
Sundays  in  Lent ;  but  on  the  other  nights  during  that 
period,  St.  Augustine's  exposition  of  the  Psalms,  and  espe- 
cially of  the  Songs  of  Degrees,  is  read  ;  and  as  the  nights 
then  grow  shorter  and  shorter,  so  do  the  lessons.  Care 
must,  however,  be  taken  that  they  are  not  so  abbreviated  as 
not  to  allow  sufficient  time  for  the  brother  who  goes  the 
round,  both  within  and  without  the  choir,  with  his  dark 
lantern*    to  see  if  any  one   has  gone   to   sleep   during   the 


3  That  is,  St.  Jerome's. 

4  Perhaps  it  is  not  quite  correct  to  call  it  a  "  dark"  lantern  ;  but  I  sup- 
pose it  to  have  been  a  light  so  enclosed  as  to  shine  only  in  one  direction, 


NO.  XX.]  CUSTOMS    OF    CLUGNIi  337 

lesson.     In  the  passion  of  our  Lord,  the  prophet  Jeremiah 
is  read;  and,  as  before,  the  prologue  forms  the  first  lesson. 
It  is,  however,  read  in  the  church  only,  and  so  as  that  before 
Holy  Thursday   it   is   finished   as   far  as  Lamentations.     In 
Easter  week,  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles  are  read;    and  for 
one   week   only;   during   which,    from   the   shortness   of  the 
nights,  it  is  impossible  that  much  should  be  read.     After  this, 
for  two   weeks,    the  Revelation,    and   the  canonical  epistles, 
until  Ascension  Day.     Then  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles  are 
again  appointed,  and  are  again  read,  (as  if  they  had  not  been 
read  before,)    from   the  beginning,    until  Pentecost.      These 
same   books,    however,   are  not  the   less   read   regularly  and 
throughout  in  the  refectory ;   where,  also,  are  read,  in  their 
appointed  seasons,  the  books  of  Kings,  of  Solomon,  of  Job, 
of  Tobit,  Judith,  Esther,  Ezra,   and   the   Maccabees,   which 
are  all  read  only  in  the  refectory,  and  not  at  all  in  the  church ; 
except  the  short  extracts  which  may  be  made  from  any  of 
them  for  the  Sundays.     From  the  calends  of  November,  the 
lessons  for  common  nights  are  doubled.     The  prophet  Ezekiel 
is   appointed   to   be   read   in  the  church  only ;    and   is    cus- 
tomarily finished  before  the  feast  of  St.  Martin  ;  and  although 
we  celebrate  the  octaves  of  that  feast  with  singing,  and  with 
other  solemnities,  yet  the  prophetical  lessons  are  not  changed, 
nor,    indeed,    are  they  on  other  octaves,    unless  they  would 
make   twelve   lessons.       Then    the   prophet   Daniel   and   the 
twelve  minor  prophets,   which  would  not  hold  out  if  we  did 
not  add,   after  the  last  of  them,    from  the  homilies  of  the 


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


338  CUSTOMS    OF    CLUGNI.  [NO.  XX. 

blessed  Pope  Gregory  on  Ezekiel.  In  Advent,  Isaiah  the 
prophet  is  appointed ;  and  when  I  inquired  about  this,  and 
wished  to  learn  in  how  many  nights  it  ought,  in  strictness,  to 
be  read  through,  I  could  not  learn  from  anybody,  and  I  can 
only  say  what  I  recollect  to  have  heard  and  seen.  When  I 
was  there,  it  was  sometimes  read  through  in  six  common 
nights.  After  this,  follow  the  Epistles  of  Pope  Leo  on  the 
Incarnation  of  our  Lord ;  and  other  discourses  of  the  holy 
fathers,  and  chiefly  of  St.  Augustine.  The  epistles  are  ap- 
pointed for  that  Sunday  which  first  occurs  after  Innocents1 
Day,  provided  that  day  is  neither  the  Circumcision  nor  the 
Anniversary  of  the  Lord  Odilo.  And  here,  again,  I  must 
say  as  I  did  of  the  prophet ;  for  different  persons  think  dif- 
ferently ;  and  I  must  again  state  what  I  saw.  Such  an  epistle 
as  that  to  the  Romans  was  read  through  in  two  common 
nights ;  and  when  one  of  the  monks  who  portioned  out  the 
lessons  had  made  them  shorter,  he  was  prohibited  by  our 
seniors  in  chapter.  If,  however,  it  should  happen  that  the 
epistles  were  finished  before  Septuagesima,  they  read  John 
Chrysostom's  Exposition  of  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews. 
Now,  you  see,  I  have  in  some  fashion  gone  round  the  circle 
of  the  year;  and  let  us,  if  vou  please,  go  on  to  something 
else." 

The  Abbot  William  then  proceeds  to  elicit  a  very 
minute,  and  (to  say  the  truth)  prolix,  account  of  the 
psalmody  at  Clugni,  which  it  would  be  useless  to 
extract,  because  that  matter  may  be  settled  in  a  very 
few  words,  so  far  as  is  necessary  for  our  purpose.  A 
monk  was  expected  to  know  the  Psalter  by  heart. 
Martene,  in  his  commentary  on  the  rule  of  St.  Bene- 
dict, quotes  and  acquiesces  in  the  observation  that 
the  words  "  legantur"  and  "  dicantur"  had  been  used 
advisedly,  and  with  a  design  to  intimate  that  the  les- 
sons were  to  be  read  from  a  book,  but  the  psalms  were 
to  be  said  or  sung  by  memory.  He  also  quotes,  from 
several  of  the  ancient  Rules,  proofs  that  means  of 
instruction  were  used,  which  render  it  probable  that 
this  was  practicable,  and  was  required.      From  Parlio- 


NO.  XX.]  MONASTIC    PSALMODY.  339 

mius,  "  He  who  will  renounce  the  world  ....  must 
remain  a  few  days  outside  the  gate,  and  shall  be  taught 
the  Lord's  Prayer,  and  as  many  psalms  as  he  can 
learn ;"  and  again,  "  There  shall  be  nobody  whatever 
(omnino  nullus)  in  the  monastery  who  will  not  learn  to 
read,  and  get  by  heart  some  part  of  the  scriptures  ;  at 
the  least  (quod  minimum  est)  the  New  Testament  and 
Psalter."  St.  Basil,  "  If  any  one  who  is  in  good  health 
shall  neglect  to  offer  prayers,  and  to  commit  the  psalms 
to  memory,  making  sinful  excuses,  let  him  be  separated 
from  the  society  of  the  others,  or  let  him  fast  for  a 
week."  St.  Ferreol,  "  No  one  who  claims  the  name  of 
a  monk  can  be  allowed  to  be  ignorant  of  letters. 
Moreover,  he  must  know  all  the  psalms  by  heart." 
He  gives  several  instances  which  it  is  not  worth  while 
to  quote,  but  one  incidental  proof  which  he  produces  is 
curious ;  because,  though  I  really  believe  that  it  is  to 
his  purpose,  yet  it  might  appear,  at  first  sight,  to  wear 
a  contrary  aspect.  Referring  to  the  catalogue  of  the 
library  of  the  monastery  of  St.  Riquier,  which  I  have 
more  than  once  had  occasion  to  notice,  he  observes  that 
in  this  monastery,  where  there  were  at  least  three 
hundred  monks  and  one  hundred  boys,  there  were  but 
seven  psalters.  As  to  the  number  of  psalms  which 
were  daily  repeated  by  the  monks  of  Clugni,  it  may  be 
sufficient,  instead  of  the  more  particular  account  of 
Ulric,  to  give  the  statement  of  the  biographer  of  Abbot 
Odo,  whom  I  have  had  repeated  occasion  to  quote. 
He  tells  us  that,  in  his  time,  they  had,  in  compassion 
to  infirmity  of  weak  brethren,  (propter  pusillanimorum 
animos)  abbreviated  the  daily  course  by  taking  away 
fourteen  psalms  from  the  original  number  of  a  hundred 
and  thirty-eight". 


'  Mab.  A.  S.  vii.  159-     I  have  said  something  before,  and  it  would  be 
easy  to  say  a  good  deal,  about  repeating  the  Psalms.     Ulric  himself,  as   I 

z  2 


340  MONASTIC    PSALMODY.  [XO.  XX. 

There  is  another  point  referred  to  in  the  extract  from 
Ulric,  of  which  it  may  be  right  to  take  some  notice. 

have  stated,  spent  the  extremity  of  his  old  age  in  psalmody,  as  well  as  in 
prayer  and  hearing  sacred  reading;  and  I  am  tempted  to  add  another  case 
of  an  old  monk,  not  because  I  believe  the  thing  to  have  been  at  all  sin- 
gular, but  through  some  circumstances  connected  with  the  man.  "When 
Hugh,  Bishop  of  Lincoln,  was  travelling  in  France,  in  or  soon  after  the 
year  1195,  an  old  monk  at  Clairvaux,  so  well  known  as  St.  Bernard's 
monastery,  sent  to  say  that,  if  he  could  make  it  convenient  to  give  him  a 
call,  he  should  be  glad  to  see  him,  for  he  had  long  desired  it.  I  rather 
think  that  they  were  old  friends  :  but  I  cannot  take  upon  me  to  say. 
However,  the  biographer  of  the  Bishop  of  Lincoln  records  that  he  did 
go  to  see  this  old  monk,  "  who,  being  of  a  great  age,  had  resigned  his 
pastoral  charge,  only  retaining  (by  the  pope's  order)  the  insignia  of  his 
former  rank,  [the  author  of  the  article  in  the  Gallia  Christiana,  iv.  128,  to 
whom  I  am  indebted  for  the  extract,  here  inserts,  in  a  parenthesis,  that  he 
had  learned  elsewhere  that  this  monk  had  also  a  reserved  pension  of 
thirteen  pounds,]  devoted  himself,  in  that  monastery,  to  holy  contempla- 
tion." He  adds,  that  on  the  bishop's  inquiring  what  part  of  the  scripture 
was  the  subject  of  his  meditation,  he  replied,  that  meditation  on  the 
Psalms  had  come  to  engross  all  his  thoughts — "  Psalmorum  meditatio 
sola  jam  penitus  totum  sibi  me  vindicavit."  I  do  not  know  why  he 
retired  to  Clairvaux,  unless  it  was  from  respect  to  the  memory  of  St.  Ber- 
nard, for  whom  he  seems  to  have  had  a  peculiar  veneration.  He  was  the 
spokesman  when,  between  forty  and  fifty  years  after  the  canonization  of 
Bernard,  the  monks  of  Clairvaux  wished  to  have  a  collect  and  prayers 
drawn  up  by  the  pope  for  the  commemoration  of  the  good  abbot.  Inno- 
cent III.  granted  the  request,  and  sent  the  prayers  to  our  old  monk,  with  a 
letter,  in  which  he  said,  "  Petisti  namque  rogatus  a  fratribus  ut  ad  honorem 
Bernardi  primi  Clarevallensis  Abbatis,  quern  apostolica  sedes  sanctorum 
adscripserat  catalogo  venerandum,  nos  ipsi  collectam  et  alias  orationes  ore 
proprio  dictaremus  turn  propter  auctoritatem  dictantis,  turn  propter  stylum 
dictaminis,  cum  majori  devotione  dicendas.  Et  ecce  sicut  potuimus," 
&c. — Lib.  v.  Ep.  60.  It  is  not,  however,  by  anything  which  he  did  after 
he  got  to  Clairvaux  that  this  old  monk  is  known  to  the  world.  Those  who 
have  read  the  very  interesting  papers  on  the  history  of  Thomas  a  Becket 
in  the  British  Magazine,  may  remember  John  Bishop  of  Poitiers,  the  friend 
of  the  Archbishop,  of  John  of  Salisbury,  and  Stephen  of  Tournay.  But 
neither  is  it  for  anything  that  he  did  as  Bishop  of  Poitiers  that  he  is 
particularly  known,  nor  is  it  under  that  name  that  he  has  been,  and  con- 
tinues to  be,  held  up  to  the  horror  and  execration  of  Christians,  for  his 
malicious  fierceness  against  the  true  doctrine  of  Christ,  and  as  one  of  the 
members  of  antichrist,  "who  could  neither  abide  that  the  scriptures  should 
be  declared  by  any  other,  nor  would  they  take  the  pains  to  declare  them 
themselves  ;"  in  short,  he  was  the  very  man  who  excommunicated  Peter 
Waldo — that  is,  if  (as  is  commonly  said)  Peter  Waldo  was  excommu- 
nicated by  Jean  aux  Bellemains,  Archbishop  of  Lyons. 


NO.   XX.]  READING    AT    MEALS.  341 

He  speaks  of  some  books  of  scripture  which  were  read 
in  the  refectory,  as  contradistinguished  from  others 
which  were  read  only  in  divine  service.  This  custom 
of  reading  at  meals  was  not  exclusively  monastic,  and 
is  too  important  a  feature,  in  a  view  of  the  literature  of 
the  Dark  Ages,  to  be  passed  over  without  some  notice. 
Eginhart  tells  us  that  Charlemagne,  while  at  supper, 
heard  either  some  diverting  story  or  a  reader.  Histo- 
ries and  the  deeds  of  ancient  kings  were  read  to  him. 
He  delighted,  also,  in  the  books  of  Saint  Augustine, 
and  especially  in  those  which  he  entitled,  "  De  Civitate 
Dei."  I  have  before  referred  to  the  custom,  in  the 
case  of  a  layman  of  less  distinction*;  and  if  it  existed 
among  the  laity,  we  shall  not  wonder  to  find  it  among 
the  clergy.  As  to  bishops,  it  was  directed  (I  do  not 
mean  to  say,  as  a  new  thing,)  by  the  second  Council  of 
Rheims,  in  the  year  813.  The  seventeenth  canon 
directs,  "  That  bishops  and  abbots  shall  not  allow  low 
buffooneries  to  be  acted  in  their  presence,  but  shall 
have  the  poor  and  needy  at  their  table,  and  that  sacred 
reading  shall  be  heard  there6" — lectio  divina  ibi  per- 
sonet.  The  same  thing  was  enjoined,  also,  by  the 
Council  of  Pavia,  held  about  the  year  850,  and  I  think 
that  the  reader  who  wishes  to  form  an  idea  of  that 
period  will  not  be  displeased  to  see  the  three  first 
canons  of  that  council  : — 

"  I.  The  holy  synod  has  decreed  that  the  domestic  and 
private  life  of  a  bishop  ought  to  be  above  all  scandal  and 
suspicion,  so  that  we  may  (according  to  the  apostle)  provide 
things  honest,  not  only  before  God,  but  before  all  men.  It 
is  meet,  therefore,  that  in  the  chamber  of  the  bishop,  and  for 
all  more  private  service,  priests  and  clerks  of  sound  judgment 
should  be  in  attendance  ;  who,  while  their  bishop  is  engaged 
in  watching,  praying,  and  searching  the  scriptures,  may  con- 


See  p.  300.  Cone    vn    U3u. 


342  READING    AT    MEALS.  [NO.  XX. 

stantly  wait  on  him,  and  be  witnesses,  imitators,  and  (to  the 
glory  of  God)  setters  forth,  of  his  holy  conversation. 

"  II.  We  decree  that  bishops  shall  perform  mass,  not  only 
on  Sundays,  and  on  the  principal  festivals,  but  that,  when 
possible,  they  shall  attend  the  daily  sacrifice.  Nor  shall  they 
think  it  beneath  them  to  offer  private  prayers,  first  for  them- 
selves, then  for  their  brethren  of  the  priesthood,  for  kings, 
for  all  the  rulers  of  the  church  of  God,  for  those  who  have 
particularly  commended  themselves  to  their  prayers,  and 
especially  for  the  poor ;  and  to  offer  the  sacrifice  of  the  altar 
(hostias  offerre)  to  God  with  that  pious  compunction,  and 
deep  feeling  of  holy  devotion,  which  belongs  to  more  private 
ministration,  that  the  priest  himself  may  become  a  living 
offering,  and  a  sacrifice  to  God  of  a  broken  spirit. 

"III.  It  is  our  pleasure  that  a  bishop  should  be  content 
with  moderate  entertainments,  and  should  not  urge  his  guests 
to  eat  and  drink  ;  but  should  rather  at  all  times  shew  himself 
a  pattern  of  sobriety.  At  his  table  let  there  be  no  indecent 
subjects  of  discourse ;  and  let  no  ridiculous  exhibitions,  no 
nonsense  of  silly  stories,  no  foolish  talking  of  the  unwise,  no 
buffoon  tricks,  be  admitted.  Let  the  stranger,  the  poor,  the 
infirm,  be  there,  who,  blessing  Christ,  may  receive  a  blessing 
from  the  sacerdotal  table.  Let  there  be  sacred  reading ;  let 
viva  voce  exhortation  follow,  that  the  guests  may  rejoice  in 
having  been  refreshed,  not  only  with  temporal  food,  but  with 
the  nourishment  of  spiritual  discourse,  that  God  may  be 
glorified  in  all  things  through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord  V 

With  regard  to  monks,  however, — at  least  the 
monks  of  the  order  of  St.  Benedict,  of  whom  we  are 
speaking 8, — it  was  a  part  of  their  rule  which  they  were 
not  at  liberty  to  dispense  with.  The  thirty-seventh 
chapter,  "  De  Hebdomadario  Lectore,"  describes  the 
manner  in  which  the  reader  for  the  week  should  per- 


7  Cone.  viii.  61. 

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


NO.  XXI.]  PETER    THE    VENERABLE.  343 

form  his  office,  expressly  requires  that  there  should  be 
reading  at  all  their  meals,  and  directs  that  the  reader's 
voice,  and  his  only,  should  be  heard  on  such  occasions, 
unless  the  abbot,  or  other  president  authority,  should 
choose  to  offer  any  brief  remark  for  general  edification. 
It  also  orders  that  the  brethren  shall  not  read  in  turn, 
but  such  only  as  may  edify  the  hearers. 

Hitherto  I  have  spoken  only  of  what  may  be  termed 
public  and,  with  some  modifications  according  to  time 
and  place,  general  means,  afforded  to  the  inmates  of  mo- 
nasteries for  obtaining  some  knowledge  of  the  word  of 
God.  I  have  said  nothing  of  the  means  or  encourage- 
ments for  private  study,  but  have  simply  referred  to 
such  as  were  used  in  the  community  for  the  benefit  of 
all.  Will  it  be  seriously  contended  that  these  men 
were  peculiarly  ignorant  of  the  scriptures  ? — that  spe- 
cial means  were  taken  to  prevent  them  from  knowing 
the  revealed  will  of  God  ?  "  Yes,"  replies  the  zealous 
anti-papist,  "  but  that  was  all  a  trick  of  the  pope — the 
abbots  actually  set  them  to  this  continual  reading  of 
the  Bible  with  their  lips,  to  prevent  their  having  lei- 
sure to  read  it  in  any  other  way." 

Well,  that  was  certainly  a  very  deep  trick  of  the 
pope ;  but  I  expect  to  shew,  by  a  distinct  species  of 
evidence,  that  it  did  not  succeed  with  all  the  poor 
simple  monks  on  whom  he  tried  it. 


No.  XXI. 


"  It  may  be  proper  just  to  mention  Peter,  abbot  of  Clugny,  surnamed 
the  Venerable.  That  so  ignorant  and  so  trifling  a  writer  should  have  been 
honoured  with  a  title  so  magnificent,  is  one  of  the  strongest  marks  of  the 
low  state  of  religious  knowledge  in  general  at  that  time." — Milner. 

Tt  may  be  proper; — but  really,  when  I  sent  the  pre- 
ceding paper  to  the  press,  I  had  no  idea  of  saying  any- 


344  PETER,    ABBOT    OF    CLUGNI.  [NO.  XXI. 

thing  about  the  abbot  Peter.  On  the  contrary,  having 
been  led  to  say  so  much  more  than  I  at  first  intended 
about  Clugni,  I  resolved  to  get  away  from  that  subject, 
for  the  present,  at  least,  fearing  that  my  readers  would 
be  tired  of  the  very  name. 

I  hope,  indeed,  that  they  are  aware  of  my  expecta- 
tion that  they  may  find  matter  of  argument  in  extracts 
and  anecdotes  not  less  easily,  and  perhaps  more  plea- 
santly, than  in  systematic  arrangements  of  rules  and 
customs  ;  yet,  for  all  that,  I  resolved  to  be  somewhat 
more  methodical  in  offering  a  few  remarks  on  what 
may  be  called  the  private  reading  of  the  monks,  as 
distinguished  from  the  public  reading  in  the  church 
and  refectory.  I  did  not  think  this  necessary  in  order 
to  rebut  the  suggestion  contained  in  the  motto  of  the 
preceding  paper,  that  the  monks  were  kept  reading  the 
bible  over  and  over  in  public,  that  they  might  have  no 
opportunity  for  reading  it  in  private,  or  for  meditating 
on  its  contents ;  but  I  thought  it  was  a  very  important 
part  of  our  subject,  and  that  we  had  fairly  arrived  at  it. 
In  the  former  part  of  this  supposition,  I  am  sure  that  I 
was  right ;  in  the  latter,  it  appears  that  I  wTas  wrong, — 
for,  no  sooner  had  I  drawn  out  a  regular  skeleton — I. 
What  books  did  the  monks  read  ?  II.  How  did  they 
get  them,  that  is,  under  what  restrictions  were  they 
allowed  to  have  the  books  of  the  monastery  for  private 
use  ?  III.  What  time  had  they  for  private  reading  ? 
IV.  In  what  places  did  they  read  ? — No  sooner,  I  say, 
had  I  made  out  this  skeleton  from  Martene's  book, 
"  De  Antiquis  Monachorum  Ritibus,"  and  set  to  work 
very  methodically  to  treat  first  of  the  first,  than  I  was 
turned  back  by  my  references  to  Clugni,  and  found 
myself  involved  in  a  correspondence  of  Peter  the 
Venerable.  It  gave  a  somewhat  different  direction  to 
my  thoughts,  and  led  me  to  reflect  whether  (consider- 
ing the  object  of  these  papers)  I  ought  to  say  so  mucli 


NO.  XXI.]     PONTIUS,  ABBOT  OF  CLUGNI.  345 

about  Clugni,  without  one  word  of  that  abbot  who  is 
perhaps  the  only  one  known,  even  by  name,  to  many 
readers  of  ecclesiastical  history,  and  who  is  known  to 
many  of  them  only  by  the  sneer  of  a  writer  who  does 
not  pretend  to  have  seen  a  line  of  his  works.  I  say. 
"  considering  the  design  of  these  papers,"  for  that  is, 
very  principally,  to  meet  the  general  deductions  and 
broad  statements  which  ignorance,  infidelity,  prejudice, 
and  party,  have  all,  in  their  turns,  and  to  their  mutual 
edification,  drawn  from  mistaken  words,  misunderstood 
or  purposely  distorted  facts,  and  even  mere  falsehoods, 
for  which  tiresome  investigation  can  hardlv  find  a  sha- 
dow  of  foundation. 

The  reader  may  perhaps  remember — though,  under 
a  full  persuasion  that  he  does  not,  I  will  repeat  it 
— that  the  Abbot  Hugh,  whose  history  I  deserted  at 
p.  312  to  follow  that  of  his  monk  Ulric,  presided  over 
the  monastery  of  Clugni  for  sixty  years.  In  a.  d.  1109, 
he  was  succeeded  by  Pontius  de  Melgueil,  whom  it  is 
necessary  to  mention,  not  only  as  a  connecting  link, 
but  for  other  reasons  which  will  appear.  He  was  the 
son  of  the  Count  of  Melgueil,  and  is  said  to  have  been 
a  godson  of  Pope  Paschal  II.,  and  to  have  been  edu- 
cated at  Cluo-ni  bv  his  order '.  The  same  writer  who 
tells  us  this,  o-oes  on  to  inform  us  that  Pontius  "  was. 
from  his  childhood,  docile,  affable,  and  steadfast  in  vir- 
tues ;  of  middle  stature,  and  pale-faced."  Perhaps  his 
noble  birth,  his  relation  to  the  pope,  and  these  popular 
qualities,  may  account  for  his  having  been  elected,  at  a 
very  early  age,  to  succeed  an  abbot,  during  the  latter 
part  of  whose  very  long  reign  it  seems  probable  that 
some  degree  of  laxity  had  crept  into  the  monastery. 


1  Odericus  Vitalis  says — "  Consulis  Merguliensis  films  Regum  et  Impe- 
ratorum  consanguinitate  proximus,  Paschalis  (II.)  filiolus,  cujus  imperio 
inter  Cluniacenses  educatus  est." — Hist.  L.  xii.  np.  Gal.  Cfir.  IV.  1134. 


346  PONTIUS,    ABBOT    OF    CLUGNI.  [NO.  XXI. 

The  fact,  however,  of  his  youth  at  the  time  of  his  elec- 
tion, is  certain,  and  it  is  just  to  him  to  state  it ;  though 
Peter  the  Venerable,  to  whom  we  are  indebted  for 
most  of  what  we  know  about  Pontius,  allows  that,  for 
some  years,  he  conducted  himself  with  considerable 
moderation  and  propriety — "  satis  modeste  ac  sobrie." 

But  somehow,  (and  I  really  do  not  know  how,)  he 
became  involved  in  disputes  with  his  monks,  and,  in 
process  of  time,  ("multis  ac  diversis  casibus  vel  causis," 
Peter  says,  and  it  was  not  necessary,  when  he  wrote,  to 
explain,)  he  contrived,  on  some  ground  or  other,  to 
quarrel  with  them  all.  The  dissension,  which  had  been 
growing  for  ten  years,  and  which  had  been  kept  as  quiet 
and  as  private  as  it  could  be,  at  length  broke  out  into 
a  public  rupture.  Pontius  hastened  to  Rome,  and 
begged  the  pope  to  allow  him  to  resign  his  charge. 
Calixtus  would  not  hear  of  such  a  thing ;  but  Pontius 
was  resolute  and  prevailed.  He  then  set  out  for  Jeru- 
salem, with  a  professed  intention  (if  we  may  credit  a 
succeeding  pope,  under  a  vow)  to  spend  the  remainder 
of  his  days  there  2.  Calixtus  informed  the  monks  of 
Clugni  of  their  abbot's  resignation,  and  directed  them 
to  choose  another;  on  which  they  selected  Hugh, 
prior  of  Marcigni,  a  nunnery  in  the  diocese  of  Autun, 
already  mentioned  in  the  history  of  Ulric  3.  He  held 
the  office  only  a  few  months ;  and  on  his  death,  a  large 
assembly,  consisting  of  several  bishops  and  abbots,  and 
a  great  multitude  of  monks  (multus  monachorum 
populus)  chose  Petrus  Mauricius  de  Monte-Buxerio, 
or  Pierre  Maurice  de  Montboissier,  or,  as  he  has  since 
been  generally  and  justly  called,  Peter  the  Venerable, 
to  succeed  him. 


2  Honorius  says — "  Se  perpetuo  Jerosolymis  victurum  voto  adstrinxe- 
rat."-  Gal.Chr.  I.  1136. 
8  See  p.  325. 


NO.  XXI.]  PETER    THE    VENERABLE.  347 

He  was  of  a  noble  family  in  Auvergne,  and  was  one 
of  several  brothers  who  filled  important  stations  in  the 
church.  Heraclius  was  archbishop  of  Lyons ;  Pontius, 
abbot  of  Vezelai ;  Jordanus,  abbot  of  La  Chaise-Dieu  ; 
Armannus,  prior  of  Clugni,  and  afterwards  abbot  of 
Manlieu.  Peter  himself  was  offered  by  his  parents,  in 
his  childhood,  at  the  priory  of  Soucilanges,  or  Sauxil- 
langes,  (belonging  to  Clugni,  and  about  thirty  miles 
S.E.  of  Clermont  in  Auvergne,)  and,  during  the  abbacy 
of  Pontius  at  Clugni,  he  was  first  prior  of  Vezelai,  and 
then  of  Domaine,  a  considerable  cell,  dependent  on  that 
monastery,  but  in  the  diocese  of  Grenoble 4.  It  was  in 
this  character,  and  when  he  was  about  thirty  years  of 
age,  that  he  attended  the  election  at  Clugni,  on  the 
22nd  August,  1122;  when,  as  I  have  already  stated, 
he  was  chosen  abbot,  and  received  the  benediction 
from  the  archbishop  of  Besancon  on  the  same  day. 

It  may  well  be  supposed,  that  a  house  divided  against 
itself  for  ten  years  had  not  prospered ;  and  Peter  found 
it  in  a  sad  state  at  his  accession.  In  a  document 
written  long  after,  he  says — 

"  When  I  was  raised  to  the  office,  twenty-six  years  ago,  I 
found  a  large  monastery,  religious  and  famous,  but  very 
poor ;  with  great  expenses,  and,  comparatively  speaking, 
scarcely  any  revenue  whatever.     There  were  three   hundred 


4  "  Qualis  fuerit  infantia,  quantaque  assiduitas  legendi  seu  discendi, 
postea  rei  probavit  eventus.  Nam  ad  tantam  scientise  plenitudinem,  Dei 
gratia,  in  brevi  evectus  est,  quod  in  ipsa  juventutis  adolescentia  in  Vizilia- 
censi  monasterio  seniorum  doctor  et  custos  ordinis  constitutus  est.  Quod 
cum  strenue  et  religiose  tenuisset,  et  novellam  plantationem  secundum 
formam  religionis  sacri  eioquii  imbre  ad  plenum  irrigasset,  promctus  est  in 
Priorem  de  Domina,  in  quo  non  est  oblitus  scientiam  et  disciplinam,  sed 
magis  et  magis  in  Deum  proficiens,  in  annis  juvenilibus  assidue  meditaba- 
tur,  quod  postea  in  senectute  devotus  impleret.  Lectioni  et  orationi  vacabat, 
et  ita  sapientiae  splendore  fulgebat,  ut  amabilis  omnibus  videretur.  ISuavis 
eloquio,  decorus  aspectu,  sermone  admirabilis,  facundia  insuperabilis, 
benignitate  singularis,  misericordia?  visceribus  affluens,  universis  compatie- 
batur."—  Vita,  auctore  Rudolfo  Mon.  ejus  Discip.  op.  D.  $  M.  vi.  1180. 


348  PETER    THE    VENERABLE,  [NO.  XXI. 

monks,  or  more,  and  the  monastery  was  not  able,  from  its 
own  resources,  to  provide  for  more  than  one  hundred.  A 
crowd  of  guests,  and  always  an  infinite  number  of  poor  V 

By  his  judicious  measures,  however,  he  soon  put 
things  in  a  train  for  amendment.  Old  quarrels  sub- 
sided, and  Peace  sat  quietly  waiting  for  Plenty,  when, 
all  at  once,  with  unexpected  violence,  she  was  driven 
from  the  place.  Pontius,  it  would  seem,  got  tired  of 
living  at  Jerusalem.  He  returned  to  Italy,  and  set  up 
a  little  monastery  near  Ravenna ;  but  this  did  not  suc- 
ceed, or  was  perhaps  only  intended  as  a  temporary 
residence ;  and  he  soon  quitted  it,  and  returned  to 
France. 

"  Having  at  length,11  says  the  Abbot  Peter,  "  gained  in- 
formation that  I  was  from  home,  (for  I  was  absent  in  Aquita- 
nia  Secanda,  on  the  business  of  Clugni 6,)  pretending  that  he 
would  not  come  to  Clugni,  he,  nevertheless,  by  degrees,  came 
nearer  and  nearer.  Having  been  joined  by  some  deserters 
from  thence,  and  being  supported  by  the  arms  of  the  rabble 
whom  he  had  collected,  he  came  suddenly  to  the  gates  of 
Clugni.  These  being  forced,  and  the  venerable  old  Prior 
Bernard,  and  the  monks,  put  to  flight  in  all  directions,  he 
entered  the  monastery  with  that  mixed  multitude  of  armed 
men,  even  women  rushing  in  along  with  the  rest.  Imme- 
diately on  his  entrance,  he  took  possession  of  everything,  and 
those  whom  he  found  there  he  compelled,  by  threats  and  tor- 
ments, to  swear  fidelity  to  him.  Such  as  refused,  he  turned 
out,  or  subjected  to  severe  imprisonment.  He  instantly  laid 
hands  on  the  sacred  things.  He  seized  golden  crosses,  golden 
tablets 7,  golden  candlesticks,  golden  censers,  and  all  the  other 
vessels,  many  in  number  and  of  great  weight.  He  also  took 
the  most  holy  chalices,  and  did  not  spare  the  gold  and  silver 
reliquaries  and  shrines,  containing  the  bones  of  many  saints 


5  Baluz.  Miscel.  torn.  V.  p.  443. 

6  This  is  not  a  very  precise  statement,  as  that  district  includes  the  dio- 
ceses of  Bordeaux,  Agen,  Angouleine,  Saintonge,  Poitiers,  and  Perigeux. 

7  That  is,  what  we  should  call  the  "hoards"  of  books.     See  what  is 
said  of  "  excrustation,"  in  No.  XIII.  p.  217,  218. 


NO.  XXI.]  ABBOT    OF    CLUGNI.  349 

and  martyrs.  These  and  the  like  he  melted  down  into  a  vast 
sum  of  money,  with  which  he  invited  the  knights  of  the  neigh- 
bourhood, and  all  the  robbers  who  were  greedy  of  gain,  to 
the  war.  Protected  by  them,  he  invaded  the  towns  and  vil- 
lages round  the  monastery  ;  and,  endeavouring,  in  a  barbarous 
manner,  to  subdue  the  religious  places,  [that  is,  the  dependent 
cells  and  priories,]  he  laid  waste  all  that  he  could  with  fire 
and  sword.  He  abstained  from  no  species  of  warfare  ;  plunder 
and  slaughter,  by  soldiers  hired  with  consecrated  gold,  raged 
everywhere. 

"  In  this  manner,  all  the  summer,  from  the  very  beginning 
of  Lent  to  the  beginning  of  October,  was  passed,  without  any 
respite,  of  even  a  few  days,  from  these  calamities.  During 
this  time,  Bernard  the  prior,  already  mentioned,  and  the 
noble,  religious,  and  great  men,  were  out  of  Clugni,  wherever 
they  could  find  places  more  secure ;  and  there  they  defended 
themselves,  as  well  as  they  could,  against  the  attacks  of  such 
enemies.  Thus,  by  the  inscrutable,  but  just  judgment  of 
God,  Satan,  being  loosed  for  a  time,  raged  in  that  holy  and 
most  famous  house  of  Clugni ;  but,  according  to  the  book  of 
the  blessed  Job,  '  He  that  made  him,  made  his  sword  to 
approach  unto  him  V  and  soon  put  a  happy  termination  to 
such  great  evils. 

"  The  venerable  Pope  Calixtus,  already  mentioned,  had 
departed  this  life,  and  had  been  succeeded  by  Honorius,  who 
was  not  his  inferior.  Hearing  of  such  disorder  in  so  great  a 
monastery,  and  having  sent  the  Lord  Cardinal  Peter,  as  his 
legate  a  latere,  with  whom  was  joined  Hubald,  archbishop  of 
Lyons,  he  condemned  Pontius  and  all  the  Pontians  (as  they 
were  then  called)  with  a  terrible  anathema ;  but  having 
shortly  after  appointed  a  day  for  both  parties  to  appear  before 
him,  for  the  hearing  and  decision  of  that  important  cause,  he 
cited  them  by  his  apostolical  letters. 

M  All  our  side  obeyed  immediately ;  and,  among  innumera- 
ble priors  of  monasteries,  that  one  on  whose  account  I  insert 
these  particulars,  the  venerable  Prior  Matthew  was  present. 
Pontius,  although  against  his  will,  was  there  also  with  his 
party,  and  was  cited  to  the  trial  on  the  day  appointed.     As, 


8  Job  xl.  9. 


350  PETER    THE    VENERABLE,  [NO.  XXI. 

however,  he  could  not  be  a  party  in  any  suit,  nor  be  canoni- 
cally  subjected  to  any  judgment,  while  excommunicate,  he  was 
ordered  first  to  make  satisfaction,  and,  by  so  doing,  to  free 
himself  from  the  bond  with  which  he  had  been  legally  bound. 
Messengers  were  sent  by  the  pope,  who,  in  the  name  of  him 
who  sent  them,  ordered  him  to  make  satisfaction  for  such 
enormities.  This  he  refused  to  do  ;  and  affirmed  that  he 
could  not  be  bound  by  the  anathema  of  any  man  living.  He 
would  acknowledge  that  power  to  belong  to  St.  Peter  in 
heaven,  and  to  him  only.  The  Lord  Pope,  being  still  more  in- 
censed by  such  an  answer,  and  all  the  city  being  in  an  uproar, 
there  was  an  universal  outcry  that  he  was  not  only  an  excom- 
municate person,  but  a  schismatic.  And  because,  as  has 
been  said,  he  could  not  be  admitted  to  trial  until  the  excom- 
munication was  taken  off,  the  Lord  Pope,  by  his  messengers, 
desired  an  answer  from  those  who  had  come  with  him,  whe- 
ther they  were  willing  to  make  the  satisfaction  which  he  had 
refused  I  They  immediately  replied  that  they  were  prepared 
to  submit  to  his  authority.  They  all,  therefore,  entered  the 
palace  barefoot ;  and,  publicly  confessing  themselves  guilty, 
were  immediately  absolved  ;  and,  being  absolved,  they  were 
admitted  to  trial,  and  left  nothing  unsaid  that  could  be  said 
for  themselves,  or  for  him  on  whose  behalf  they  appeared. 
On  the  other  side,  the  venerable  Matthew  acted  as  spokes- 
man for  the  party,  and  went  through  the  whole  business  with 
great  wisdom. 

"  The  pope  having  heard  both  sides,  instantly  rose  ;  and, 
being  accompanied  by  the  whole  court  of  Rome,  retired  to 
consider  the  matter  in  private.  He  stayed  a  long  while  ;  but, 
returning  with  them  all,  after  some  hours,  he  resumed  his 
seat,  and  commanded  the  bishop  of  Porto  to  pronounce  the 
sentence  which  had  been  agreed  on.  He,  as  he  was  directed, 
pronounced  the  sentence  ;  and  to  give  his  very  words : — 
1  The  holy  Roman  and  apostolic  church,1  said  he,  l  deposes 
for  ever  from  all  ecclesiastical  honour  and  function,  Pontius 
the  usurper,  the  sacrilegious  person,  the  schismatic,  the 
excommunicate ;  and  has  restored  to  the  present  abbot 
from  whom  they  have  been  unjustly  taken  away)  Clugni, 
monks,  and  all  things  pertaining  to  the  said  monastery/ 
This  sentence  having  been  given,  the  divided  parties  were 
united,  and  the  body  of  Clugni  being  healed,  as  it  were  in 


NO.  XXI.]  ABBOT    OF    CLUGNI.  351 

one  moment,  this   great   and   protracted  storm  of  evils  was 
appeased  V1 

Pontius  remained  at  Rome,  where  he  did  not  long 
survive  the  papal  condemnation ;  and  Peter,  returning 
to  Clugni,  pursued  his  quiet  plans  of  reform  in  peace, 
until  circumstances  arose  which,  in  a  view  of  the  dark 
ages,  with  reference  to  ecclesiastical  history,  would  claim 
our  attention,  even  if  they  had  not  been  the  immediate 
occasion  of  Peter's  being  exhibited  as  an  ignorant  per- 
son, the  respect  entertained  for  whom  is  of  itself  evi- 
dence of  the  irreligion  of  the  age ;  but,  to  understand 
it,  we  must  look  back  a  little. 


9  Bib.  Clun.  552.  I  have  said  that  this  is  Peter's  account ;  and  perhaps 
we  must  make  some  allowance  for  feeling ;  other  accounts,  too  general  to 
give  any  satisfaction,  lead  us  to  hope  that  there  were  some  redeeming 
qualities  about  Pontius  At  all  events,  it  is  quite  to  our  purpose  to  give  a 
short  extract  from  the  Chronicle  of  Clugni,  which  may  tend  to  shew  that, 
if  he  was  not  himself  as  much  under  the  influence  of  the  word  of  God  as 
he  should  have  been,  he  yet  took  some  pains  to  preserve  the  letter  of 
scripture: — "  Albert  was  a  monk  of  St.  Hugh,  worthy  of  an  honoured 
memory  by  those  who  are  fond  of  copying  books,  or  making  them  for 
themselves.  For  his  glory  in  that  volume  [hiatus  in  MS.~\  is  to  be  found 
at  the  entrance  of  the  library  of  Clugni,  which  he  wrote  with  the  help  of 
Peter,  the  librarian,  also  called  the  rector  of  the  choir,  or  chanter.     For  it 

that  volume  of  the  bible,  great,  wonderful,  and  precious  for  the  writing, 
and  the  correctness,  and  also  for  the  binding,  adorned  with  beryl  stones, 
whose  eulogy  or  commendation  is  written  in  the  same  volume,  in  manner 
following  : — '  This  book  was  written  by  a  certain  monk  of  Clugni,  pre- 
viously of  Treves,  named  Albert,  by  the  order  and  at  the  expense  of  the 
Lord  Pontius,  the  venerable  abbot.  Peter  being  also  at  that  time  libra- 
rian, and  providing,  according  to  his  office,  all  things  necessary,  with  joy 
and  diligence.  But  the  father  of  the  aforesaid  monk,  named  Andrew, 
came  with  him  to  Clugni,  and  both,  (that  is,  the  father  and  son,)  through 
the  Holy  Spirit's  assistance  and  illumination,  received  the  monastic  habit 
from  the  holy  father  Hugh.  But  the  father  died  long  since,  at  Clugni. 
Moreover,  the  aforesaid  monk,  associating  with  himself  a  certain  religious 
brother  named  Opizo,  read  through  this  book  twice,  with  great  diligence, 
that  he  might  improve  it  on  the  authority  of  other  books,  and  twice  he 
corrected  it.  Therefore  the  brother  Albert,  a  sinner,  prostrating  himself 
at  the  feet  of  the  seniors  of  Clugni,  humbly  entreats  that  they  would 
obtain  from  God,  for  himself  and  his  father,  the  pardon  of  their  sins 
Amen.'"— Chron.  Clun.  op.  Biblioth.  Clun.  p.  1G45. 


352  ORIGIN    OF    CITEAUX.  [NO.    XXI. 

While  Peter  was  a  child,  a  monk,  named  Robert, 
who  was  prior  of  the  Benedictine  monastery  of  Mou- 
tier-la-Celle,  close  to  Troyes 10,  became  abbot  of  St. 
Michael's  at  Tonnere,  in  the  diocese  of  Langres.  That 
this  monastery  required  some  reform,  there  is  reason  to 
believe ;  and  that  Robert's  ideas  of  discipline  and 
monastic  austerity  were  unusually  strict,  is  certain. 
He  could  not  manage  the  monks,  who  led  him  a  sad 
life ;  and  he  was  tempted  to  listen  to  the  invitation  of 
some  recluses  in  the  desert  of  Colan,  to  whom  his 
austerities  seem  to  have  recommended  him,  and  who 
wished  him  to  come  and  take  the  government  of  them. 
The  prior  of  St.  Michael's,  however,  and  some  of  the 
elder  monks,  were  unwilling  to  lose  him  ;  and,  to  please 
them,  he  agreed  to  stay  there,  and  to  confine  himself 
to  epistolary  correspondence  with  the  hermits.  But  it 
would  not  do  :  after  a  while,  the  conduct  of  the  greater 
part  of  the  monks  (that  is,  I  believe,  their  insubordina- 
tion and  refusal  to  submit  to  certain  strict  regulations, 
for  I  do  not  see  any  charge  of  immoral  conduct,  and  in 
writing  on  such  a  subject  it  is  necessary  to  say  so,) 


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


■'Jcersc. 


NO.  XXI.]  MONASTERY    OF    CITEAUX.  353 

drove  him  away.  Why  he  did  not  then  go  to  the  her- 
mits, I  do  not  know ;  but,  in  fact,  he  returned  to  the 
monastery  where  he  had  been  brought  up,  and  of 
which,  as  I  have  said,  he  had  been  prior.  From  thence 
he  was  soon  sent  to  take  charge  of  the  monastery  of 
St.  Aigulph,  at  Provins,  which  was  dependent  on 
Moutier-la-Celle. 

The  solitaries  of  Colan,  however,  did  not  choose  that 
he  should  escape  them  so.  I  do  not  find  that  they  said 
anything  to  him,  but  they  applied  to  the  pope,  and  got  an 
order  directed  to  the  abbot  of  Moutier-la-Celle,  direct- 
ing him  to  give  up  Robert  to  them,  on  the  ground  that 
they  had  elected  him  as  their  superior ;  and  in  this  he 
appears  to  have  very  cheerfully  acquiesced.  He  accom- 
panied his  new  subjects  to  their  desert;  but,  finding 
it  to  be  a  very  unhealthy  place,  he  transplanted  them 
to  the  forest  of  Molesme.  There  they  built  cells  with 
the  branches  of  trees,  and  an  oratory,  dedicated  to  the 
Holy  Trinity,  and  for  some  time  went  on  very  well. 
But  it  seems  that  some  of  their  rich  neighbours,  who 
admired  their  zeal  and  self-denial,  destroyed,  or  at  least 
diminished,  both  those  virtues,  by  the  presents  which 
they  heaped  upon  them ;  and  the  monks  of  Molesme, 
when  they  became  comparatively  rich,  were  as  hard  to 
govern  as  those  of  Tonnere.  At  all  events,  Robert 
could  not  keep  them  up  to  what  he  considered  the 
proper  standard  in  ascetic  life,  and  he  fairly  ran  away 
from  them  to  some  recluses  in  a  solitude  called  Haut. 
These  seem  to  have  been  simple,  industrious  men,  who 
lived  by  the  labour  of  their  hands,  in  great  harmony, 
and  they  considered  Robert  such  an  acquisition,  that 
they  chose  him  for  their  abbot. 

But  the  monks  of  Molesme  were  not  willing  to  part 
with  him  now  any  more  than  they  had  been  before  ; 
and  having  succeeded  so  well  on  the  former  occasion, 
they  again  applied  to  the  pope  (and  this  time   to  the 

A  a 


354  ORIGIN    OF    THE  [NO.  XXI. 

bishop  of  Langres  also)  to  order  him  back.  Their 
request  was  granted,  and  he  returned  ;  but  there  is  too 
much  reason  to  fear  that  their  anxiety  to  regain  him 
arose  chiefly  from  secular  motives,  and  indeed  it  may 
be  well  imagined  that  both  their  character  and  revenue 
suffered  from  its  being  known  that  they  had  driven 
him  away.  Things,  therefore,  soon  became  as  bad  as 
before.  The  greater  part  of  the  monks  were  ungovern- 
able ;  but  there  were  some  who  felt  conscientiously 
distressed  by  the  consideration  that  they  were  not  living 
in  conformity  with  the  rule  of  their  order,  which  they 
daily  heard  read  in  their  chapter,  and  which  they  had 
bound  themselves  to  obey.  They  conferred  among 
themselves  on  the  best  means  of  remedying  the  evil, 
and  relieving  their  consciences ;  but  the  matter  soon 
transpired,  and  the  other  monks  took  the  alarm,  and 
opposed  them  with  all  their  might.  Under  these  cir- 
cumstances, they  thought  it  would  be  best  to  retire, 
and  seek  for  some  place  where  they  might  serve  God 
according  to  their  consciences,  without  such  disturb- 
ances. They  asked  the  abbot's  permission  ;  and  he  not 
only  granted  it,  but  expressed  his  willingness  to  accom- 
pany them.  In  order  to  do  this  with  perfect  regularity, 
he  took  six  of  them  with  him  to  Lyons,  that  he  might 
explain  the  matter  to  the  archbishop,  (who  was  also 
legate  of  the  Holy  See,)  and  obtain  his  sanction.  He 
stated  his  wish  to  institute  an  exact  practice  of  the 
rule  of  St.  Benedict,  such  as  he  had  found  himself 
unable  to  produce  at  Molesme,  which  he  desired  per- 
mission to  quit ;  and  he  obtained  from  the  archbishop 
letters  patent,  approving  his  design,  and  counselling 
him  to  persevere  in  his  holy  resolution  \     Returning 

1  The  Archbishop  says — "  Vos in  nostra  prsesentia  adstitisse, 

ac  Regular  Beatissimi  Benedicti,  quarn  illic  hucusque  tepide  ac  negligenter 
in  eodem  monasterio  tenueratis,  arctius  deinceps  atque  perfectius  inhaerere 
velle  professos  fuisse,"  &c. — Exord.  c.  ii.  ap.  Notnast.  Cister. 


NO.  XXI.]  MONASTERY    OF    CITEAUX.  355 

to  Molesme,  he  selected  those  monks  who  were  most 
zealous  for  exact  discipline,  and  with  them,  to  the 
number  of  twenty,  he  set  out  to  form  a  new  settle- 
ment. He  fixed  (I  know  not  why)  on  a  desert  spot  in 
the  diocese  of  Chalons-sur-Saone,  about  five  leagues 
south  of  Dijon ;  and  there,  on  Palm-Sunday,  in  the 
year  1098,  being  St.  Benedict's  day,  and  the  2nd  of 
March,  he  and  his  companions  settled  down  in  that 
place,  and  so  laid  the  foundation  of  that  Monastery, 
and  of  that  Order,  from  whence  were  to  issue  unnum- 
bered popes,  cardinals,  and  prelates,  to  say  nothing  of 
more  than  three  thousand  affiliated  monasteries. 

But  when  Robert  had  thus  founded  what  he  named 
the  New  Monastery,  afterwards  called  the  monastery 
of  Citeaux,  he  could  not  stay  there ;  and  whether  he 
should  be  called  the  first  Cistercian  abbot  is  a  point 
which  has  been  disputed,  and  in  which  writers  vary. 
However,  it  is  certain  that,  before  he  had  been  long 
there,  he  was  reclaimed  by  his  old  subjects  at  Molesme, 
who  made  a  fresh  application  to  the  pope,  and  were 
again  successful.  They  seem  to  have  felt  that  there 
was  no  living  with  him,  nor  without  him ;  and  they  set 
off  to  Rome,  where  Urban  II.  was  then  holding  a  coun- 
cil. By  great  clamour  and  vehement  importunity,  as 
the  pope  says,  they  prevailed  on  him  to  restore  their 
abbot ;  and  he  wrote  a  letter  to  the  archbishop  of 
Lyons  desiring  him  to  manage  the  business  2.  Robert 
accordingly  returned  to  Molesme,  where  he  presided 
during  the  rest  of  his  life  ;  and  Alberic  became  ab- 
bot of  Citeaux      He  framed  some  regulations  for  the 


2  The  pope  begins  his  letter  by  saying,  "  Molismensium  fratrum  mag- 
num in  Concilio  clamorem  accessimus,  abbatis  sui  rediturn  vehementius 
postulantium.  Dicebant  enim  religionem  in  suo  choro  evtrsam,  seque 
pro  abbatis  illius  absentia  odio  apud  principes  et  ceteros  vicinos  haberi.'' — 
Ep.  xx.  Cone.  x.  444. 

a  a  2 


356  PROGRESS    OF    THE  [NO.  XXI. 

government  of  the  monastery,  which  are  still  extant,  and 
which  partake  of  the  austere  character  which  he  (as  well 
as  Robert)  had  endeavoured  to  give  to  monasticism  at 
Molesme.  After  he  had  governed  for  nine  years  and 
a  half,  he  was,  in  the  year  1109,  succeeded  by  our 
countryman,  Stephen  Harding,  who  was  also  one  of  the 
original  settlers  3. 

In  fact,  they  had  not  gained  a  single  recruit,  and  so 
many  of  their  number  had  died,  during  the  first  fifteen 
years  from  the  foundation,  that  there  was  some  appre- 
hension that  the  community  would  become  extinct, 
when,  all  at  once,  it  received  an  accession  of  more  than 
its  original  number.  In  1113,  St.  Bernard,  who  was 
then  but  twenty-two  years  of  age,  brought  with  him 
thirty  companions,  and  seems  to  have  had  the  power  of 
making  men  fall  in  love  with  that  rigorous  and  austere 
mode  of  life  which,  though  hitherto  persevered  in  by 
its  originators,  had  been  so  repulsive  to  all  others. 
Citeaux  revived, — it  flourished, — it  sent  forth  its 
branches,  and  before  it  was  fifty  years  old  it  numbered 
more  than  five  hundred  affiliated  abbeys.  It  is  not 
necessary  to  give  a  detailed  account  of  all  and  each  of 
them ;  but  it  would  be  uncourteous  not  to  name  the 
"  quatre  premieres  filles."  Stephen  Harding,  who  ap- 
pears to  have  had  ideas  of  centralization  which  would 
not  have  disgraced  a  more  enlightened  age,  and  who 
seems  almost  as  if  he  had  anticipated  the  extensive 
increase  of  the  order,  published  what  he  denominated  a 
"  Charta  Caritatis."  It  is  a  brief  set  of  regulations, 
chiefly  designed  to  promote  uniformity  in  the  under- 
standing and  practice  of  the  rule  of  St.  Benedict  in  the 


3  I  do  not  like  to  mention  him  without  saying  that  the  great  Bible,  in 
six  volumes,  which  he  caused  to  be  written,  and  which,  by  the  help  of 
learned  Jews,  he  collated  with  Hebrew  MSS.,  was  at  Citeaux,  little  more 
than  a  hundred  years  ago,  and  is,  I  presume,  still  in  existence. — See  I. 
Voy.  Lit.  2  2  i  ;   Gal.  C/ir.  iv.  984. 


NO.  XXI.]  MONASTERY    OF    CITEAUX.  357 

Cistercian  monasteries,  and  to  guide  the  mutual  con- 
nexion, dependence,  and  intercourse  between  them 4. 
To  the  "quatuor  primi  abbates"  of  the  order  is  given 
the  honour  of  being  the  visitors  of  the  chief  monastery 
of  Citeaux,  and  of  governing  it  during  vacancies. 
These  four  filiations  were,  first,  Ferte  sur  Grone,  in 
1113;  secondly,  Pontigny,  in  the  year  following; 
thirdly,  Clairvaux,  in  1115  ;  and,  fourthly,  in  the  same 
year,  Morimond. 

There  is  no  need  to  enter  into  details  about  it — no 
necessity  to  trace  Cistercian  history  from  St.  Michael's 
at  Tonnere  to  La  Trappe  5,  in  order  to  shew  that  the 
spirit  of  the  order  was  austere  and  ascetic.  No  doubt 
it  was  originally,  in  its  conception  and  first  spirit,  a 
plan  of  reform  ;  and  if  it  was  not  meant  particularly 
and  pointedly  to  reflect  on  Clugni  and  its  connexions, 
yet  it  can  hardly  be  wondered  at  that  jealousies  arose. 
I  hope  that  I  do  them  no  injustice  by  the  suggestion, — 
but  really  I  have  often  wondered  why  these  monks  of 
Molesme  should  travel  a  distance  of,  I  suppose,  at  least 


4  See  Paris,  Nomast.  Cist.  65. 

5  Of  course  I  mean  La  Trappe  in  the  days  of  De  Ranee,  for  the  monas- 
tery was  one  of  the  earliest  affiliations  of  Citeaux.  That  reformer  had,  I 
believe,  no  idea  of  going  beyond  what  he  considered  (and,  I  believe, 
rightly)  as  required  by  the  Cistercian  order.  Perhaps  he  mistook  in  that 
point  in  which  he  differed  from  Robert.  He  desired  to  reform  the  Cister- 
cian order,  and  might  have  had  better  success  if,  instead  of  setting  about 
it  under  that  name,  he  had  founded  a  new  order,  as  Robert  did.  Fuller  is 
not  a  writer  whom  I  would  quote  as  an  authority  about  "  the  several 
orders  of  monks  and  nuns,"  but  a  remark  made  by  him  in  his  attempt 
"  confusedly  to  shovel  up  these  vermin,"  contains  much  truth  and  much 
history: — "As  mercers,  when  their  old  stuffes  begin  to  tire  in  sale,  refresh 
them  with  new  names  to  make  them  more  vendible ;  so  when  the  Bene- 
dictines waxed  stale  in  the  world,  the  same  order  was  set  forth  in  a  new 
edition,  corrected  and  amended,  under  the  names,  first,  of  Cluniacks  — 
these  were  Benedictines  sifted  through  a  finer  search,  with  some  addi- 
tional! invented  and  imposed  upon   them  by  Odo,  abbot  of  Clugni,  in 

Burgundy,  who  lived,  Anno  Domini  913 Secondly,  Cistercians,  so 

called  from  one  Robert,  living  in  Cistercium,  in  Burgundy  aforesaid  ;  he  the 
second  time  refined  the  drossie  Benedictines,"  Sec. — Ch.  Hist.  B.  vi.  p  266*1 


358  CITEAUX  [no.  XXI. 

seventy  or  eighty  miles,  to  set  themselves  down  in  a 
swampy  thicket 6,  so  bad  that,  after  a  short  time,  they 
were  obliged  to  remove  a  quarter  of  a  league,  unless  it 
was  that  all  that  distance  brought  them  almost  as  much 
nearer  to  Clugni.  Surely,  whatever  nicety  of  taste 
they  might  have  in  such  matters,  they  might  have  been 
accommodated  with  a  suitable  wilderness  nearer  home. 
If  that  was  really  all  they  wanted,  surely  they  must 
have  seen  "  quod  petis  est  hie"  inscribed  in  characters 
not  to  be  overlooked  or  mistaken,  on  some  part  or 
other  of  almost  every  league  which  they  travelled. 
I  do  not  dispute,  either,  that  Alberic  might  dream  that 
the  Virgin  Mary  directed  that  his  monks  should  wear 
white  garments  ;  but  it  leads  me  to  suspect  that  he 
might  have  been  thinking  on  the  matter  when  he  was 
awake  ;  though  even  then,  perhaps,  it  was  not  because 
the  monks  of  Clugni  wore  black  ones.  Nor  do  I  take 
upon  me  to  say  that  he  was  thinking  of  the  fine  chan- 
delier, composed  of  brass,  gold,  and  silver,  which  hung 
from  the  roof  of  the  church  at  Clugni,  when  he  gave 
special  directions  that  the  Cistercians  should  have  none 
but  iron  candlesticks  in  their  churches ;  nor,  indeed, 
that  he  meant  to  be  personal  in  the  minute  directions 
which  he  gave  respecting  various  little  matters,  wherein 
grounds  of  accusation  against  the  monks  of  Clugni 
were  afterwards  found ;  but  it  seems  impossible  not  to 
believe  that  there  was,  from  the  first,  something  like  a 
design  on  the  part  of  the  Cistercians  to  reform  (not  to 
say  rival,  or  humble)  the  monks  of  Clugni. 

Be  this  as  it  may,  jealousies  did  arise :  the  Cistercians 
murmured  that  the  Cluniacs  were  lax,  and  the  Cluni- 
acs  hinted  that  the  Cistercians  were  upstart  pharisees ; 


6  "  Qui  locus  in  Episcopatu  Cabilonensi  situs,  et  prae  nemoris  spina- 
rumque  tunc  temporis  opacitate  accessui  hominum  insolitus,  a  solis  feris 
inbabitabatur." — Exord.  c.  iii.  ap.  Nomast.  Cister. 


NO.  XXI.]  AND    CLUGNI.  359 

and  in  the  course  of  a  few  years  these  feelings  had 
become  strong,  undisguised,  and  even  noisy.  Look  for 
a  moment  at  the  real  state  of  things : — during  that 
period,  Bernard,  at  the  age  of  four-and-twenty,  in  the 
ardour  of  youthful  zeal,  and  in  the  practice  of  austeri- 
ties which  he  lived  to  regret  and  condemn,  had  set  out 
in  the  government  of  one  of  the  first  offsets  of  a  severe 
Order,  even  younger  than  himself;  while  Pontius,  pro- 
bably not  much  his  senior,  was  at  the  head  of  a  monas- 
tery nearly  two  hundred  years  old,  where,  perhaps,  the 
protracted  abbacy  of  his  predecessor,  or  the  mere  lapse 
of  time,  had  produced  some  relaxation,  and  where, 
during  his  dissensions  with  his  monks,  every  kind  and 
every  consequence  of  misrule  might  naturally  be  ex- 
pected. By  the  time  that  Bernard  had  been  ten  years 
at  Clairvaux,  (that  is,  in  the  year  1125,  just  when 
Peter  was  settling  down  quietly  at  Clugni,  after  the 
irruption  of  Pontius,)  William,  abbot  of  St.  Thierry's, 
near  Rheims,  one  of  Bernard's  dearest  and  most  inti- 
mate friends,  and  himself  a  Cluniac,  urged  him  to  pub- 
lish some  statement  on  the  subject ;  letting  people 
know  authentically  what  he  had,  and  what  he  had  not, 
said  about  it,  and  what  charges  the  Cistercians  really 
did  mean  to  bring  against  their  Cluniac  brethren.  Ber- 
nard accordingly  put  forth  what  is  called  his  Apology, 
but  what  is,  in  fact,  a  vehement  attack  on  the  monks 
of  Clugni. 

That  this  work  contains  much  important  truth  and 
much  fervent  eloquence,  and  that  it  was  dictated  by  a 
true  zeal  for  the  glory  of  God  and  the  welfare  of  his 
church,  Bernard's  enemies  will  scarcely  venture  to 
deny ;  but  that  it  was  vehement  beyond  the  occasion, 
that  his  zeal  for  God  was  not  merely  intemperate,  but 
misguided  (as  such  intemperate  zeal  too  frequently  is) 
into  something  too  much  like  judging  another  man's 
servant,  even  his  friends  must  admit.     The  tone  is  like 


360  CITEAUX  [no.  XXI. 

that  which  we  expect  from  a  man  who  would  think  it 
wrong  to  write  in  anger,  but  who  tells  us  (and  very 
sincerely)  "  I  am  not  at  all  angry,  but  I  certainly  do 
feel  very  much  hurt."  In  fact,  this  is  so  apparent,  and 
this  tone  in  an  aggressor,  who  might  rather  have  been 
expected  to  write  with  feelings  of  quiet  self-compla- 
cency, is  so  singular,  that  I  cannot  help  noticing  a  cir- 
cumstance which,  if  it  does  not  entirely  excuse,  may 
perhaps  account  for,  some  appearance  of  personal  feel- 
ing in  the  matter.  A  young  cousin  of  St.  Bernard, 
named  Robert,  for  whom  he  seems  to  have  had  a  most 
tender  and  paternal  affection,  had  accompanied  or 
followed  him  to  Citeaux,  during  the  time  that  Pontius 
governed  the  abbey  of  Clugni.  This  latter  monastery 
claimed  him,  on  the  ground  that  his  parents  had  pro- 
mised (not,  St.  Bernard  contends,  offered)  him  there  in 
his  infancy ;  and  the  prior  of  Clugni  came  to  Citeaux, 
and  persuaded  the  youth  to  quit  the  place,  and  come 
to  the  monastery  for  which  he  had  been  originally  des- 
tined. Their  claim  to  him  was  affirmed  by  the  pope ; 
but  it  was  done  on  an  ex-parte  statement,  if  we  may  place 
entire  reliance  on  St.  Bernard's  account  of  the  matter, 
in  a  letter  which  he  wrote  to  his  cousin,  with  the  hope 
of  moving  him  to  a  voluntary  return.  This  letter  is  a 
singular  composition  of  wrath  and  tenderness ;  of  re- 
buke to  the  youth,  whom  he  treats  as  a  prodigal  gone 
to  indulge  in  riotous  living,  and  of  self-reproach  for  the 
harsh  enforcement  of  austerities  such  as  he  might  have 
known  that  a  lad,  brought  up  in  the  softness  of  secular 
life,  could  not  bear.  And  as  to  the  prior  of  Clugni 
(magnus  quidam  prior,  ab  ipso  principe  priorum :  foris 
quidem  apparens  in  vestimentis  ovium,  intrinsecus 
autem  lupus  rapax,)  and  his  monastery,  they  are  treated 
with  all  the  bitterness  of  bereaved  affection.  But  it 
was  in  vain ;  as  long  as  Pontius  remained  abbot  of 
Clugni,  Robert  was  not  to  be  regained.      When,  how- 


NO.  XXI.]  AND    CLU6NI.  3G1 

ever,  Peter  succeeded  him,  he  gratified  his  friend  Ber- 
nard by  restoring  his  young  kinsman,  who  expiated,  we 
may  hope,  a  comparatively  short  absence  by  sixty-seven 
years  of  submission  to  the  Cistercian  order. 

That  Bernard  had  forgotten  all  about  this  when  he 
wTrote  his  Apology — that  he  did  not  naturally  feel 
bound  to  follow  up  and  support  the  charges  which  he 
had  made  in  that  letter — and  that  he  did  not  bring  to 
the  work  some  of  the  feelings  which  had  been  so 
strongly  excited,  is  more  than  can  be  believed  ;  and,  as 
I  have  already  said,  the  Apology  is,  in  fact,  a  vehement 
invective.  It  would  exceed  the  bounds  of  this  paper 
even  to  mention  the  charges  which  he  makes  ;  but,  as 
people  in  the  present  day  form  the  most  gross  ideas  on 
the  least  hint  of  irregularity  in  a  monastery,  I  must  just 
say,  that  he  charges  them  with  nothing  which  in  the 
common  and  gross  sense  of  the  term  we  should  call 
immorality,  nothing  more  nearly  approaching  to  it  than 
such  a  degree  of  luxury  in  eating,  and  drinking,  and 
dress,  and  in  the  ornament  of  their  buildings,  as  he 
considered  inconsistent  with  strict  monastic  life.  It  is 
as  Benedictine  monks,  it  is  for  their  Benedictine  irregu- 
larities, and  for  departures  from  the  Rule  which  they 
professed,  (that  is,  however,  we  must  recollect,  for  per- 
jury,) that  Bernard  attacks  them.  In  fact,  Milner,  or 
more  properly  the  writer  from  whom  he  borrowed,  is  in 
some  sort  a  voucher  for  this ;  for,  from  Peter's  reply,  he 
characterizes  the  matters  in  dispute  as  "  frivolous  punc- 
tilios and  insignificant  ceremonies."  His  testimony  as 
to  the  merits  of  the  case  may  be  admitted,  though  he 
happened  to  mistake  between  the  plaintiff  and  de- 
fendant ;  for  it  is  obvious  that  Bernard,  if  either,  was 
the  trifler,  and  that  Peter  was  only  replying  to  liis 
charges;  that  Bernard  was  the  person  insisting  on 
punctilios,  and  that  Peter  was  in  some  cases  repelling 
charges  of  perjury,  and  in  others  asserting  his  Christian 


362  milner's  account  of  [no.  xxi. 

liberty,  and  claiming  a  right  to  modify  such  small 
matters  according  to  his  discretion.  This  is,  I  say, 
obvious  ;  and  if  it  should  not  immediately  appear  so  to 
any  reader,  I  hope  to  make  it  plain ;  for  the  conten- 
tion and  correspondence  of  two  such  persons,  and  so 
situated,  as  Bernard  and  Peter,  is  quite  worthy  of  fur- 
ther discussion. 

In  the  meantime,  it  may  be  right  to  explain  how  the 
historian  from  whom  I  have  borrowed  my  motto  came 
to  entertain  the  opinion  which  is  there  expressed.  He 
wras  too  much  in  the  habit  of  forming  his  opinion  of 
authors  from  the  brief  accounts  and  extracts  which  he 
found  in  the  English  translation  of  Dupin's  Bibliotheque 
des  Auteurs  Ecclesiastiques  7,  to  which  wTork  he  very 
honestly  refers  us  on  the  present  occasion.  The  works 
of  Peter  lie  does  not  profess  to  have  seen.  As  printed  in 
the  Bibliotheca  Cluniacensis  they  extend  from  col.  621 
to  col.  1376, — that  is  to  say,  they  occupy  about  377 
folio  pages,  which  are  not,  I  believe,  defrauded  of  their 
full  measure  by  a  single  note.  Dupin's  account  of  the 
life  and  writings  of  Peter,  in  this  English  translation, 


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


NO.  XXI.]  PETER   THE    VENERABLE.  363 

does  not  fill  quite  seven  folio  pages,  not  so  large,  but, 
owing  to  a  smaller  type,  containing  rather  more  than 
an  equal  number  of  the  others.  Of  these  seven  pages, 
a  large,  though  I  do  not  know  that  we  should  say  a 
disproportionate,  share  is  given  to  an  abstract  of  the 
letter  which  Peter  wrote  in  reply  to  Bernard's  Apology. 
Dupin  naturally  thought  this  letter  one  of  the  most 
curious  among  nearly  two  hundred  of  Peters  which  are 
extant ;  and  the  abstract  which  he  gave  of  it,  including 
the  translator's  addition,  occupies  exactly  two  pages  out 
of  the  seven.  Yet,  long  as  it  is,  this  is  a  very  brief 
abstract  of  Peter's  long  letter,  and,  compared  with  it, 
little  more  than  a  table  of  contents,  stating  the  points 
in  dispute.  Immediately  after  it,  comes  what  would 
be  called  a  note,  if  it  were  not  inserted  in  the  text 
in  manner  and  form  following : — 

t£^°  [And  now  upon  this  whole  Debate  or  Controversie 
beticeen  the  Monks  of  Cisteaux  and  those  of  Cluny,  we 
cannot  forbear  making  this  one  Remark,  that,  according 
to  our  old  course  English  Proverb,  here  has  been  a  great 
Cry,  but  little  Wool ;  a  great  noise  and  clamour  about  the 
Externals,  but  scarce  one  Word  said,  Pro,  or  Con,  about 
the  Internals,  of  Religion ;  which  sufficiently  shews,  that 
when  Men  are  once  wedded  to  any  party  in  Religion,  their 
greatest  Heats  happen  about  the  Circumstantials  of  Religion 
to  which  that  Party  adheres,  arid  that  they  hate  little  or  no 
Concern  for  the  Fundamentals  of  the  truly  Catholic  and 
Christian  Church.] 

Mr.  William  Jones,  in  all  probability,  knew  no- 
thing whatever  about  the  matter  but  what  he  found  in 
Dupin,  and  did  not  consider  that  Peter  was  replying  to 
the  particulars  of  a  charge  of  perjury,  urged  with  great 
heat  by  a  man  whose  character  and  station  made  it 
necessary  that  every  such  charge  should  be  fairly  met 
and  discussed.  lie  only  thought,  perhaps,  that  the 
bookseller  who  employed  him  wanted  to  have  Dupin's 
work  ki  turned  out"  of  French  into  Engli>h,  as  he  tells 


364  MILNER    ON    PETER    OF    CLUGNI.        [NO.   XXI. 

us  that  Peter  the  Venerable  "  procured  the  Alcoran  to 
be  turned  out  of  Arabick  into  Latin;"  and  having 
learned  and  taught  his  readers  in  the  foregoing  chapter 
that  St.  Bernard  "  touches  the  heart  with  his  move- 
ments," he  perhaps  expected  to  produce  the  same 
effect  in  the  present  case ;  or,  more  probably,  only  took 
the  opportunity  of  shewing  his  zealous  protestantism. 

The  passage,  however,  inviting  attention  by  the  indi- 
cating hand  and  the  brackets,  and  by  being  printed 
almost  entirely  in  italics,  probably  caught  Milner's  eye 
as  he  turned  over  Dupin,  just  as  its  reprint  here  may 
arrest  the  attention  of  some  one  carelessly  turning  over 
the  leaves  of  this  book ;  and  it  is,  most  likely,  to  this 
effusion  of  Mr.  William  Jones  that  Peter  owes  the  notice 
which  he  received  from  the  historian.  It  is  evidently 
on  this  suggestion,  and  almost  in  the  language,  of  this 
absurd  and  ignorant  translator,  that  Milner  says,  "  He 
takes  large  pains  to  vindicate  the  manners  and  customs 
of  his  monastery  against  objections ;  and  in  doing  this 
he  is  so  verbose  and  circumstantial,  that  he  may  seem 
to  have  placed  the  essence  of  Christianity  in  frivolous 
punctilios  and  insignificant  ceremonies 8."  It  is  not 
wonderful  that,  in  the  practice  of  these  sortes  Dupin  t- 
ance,  Milner  sometimes  formed  wrong  opinions  respect- 
ing the  character  and  writings  of  authors  of  whose 
history  and  works  he  knew  nothing.  But,  surely,  if 
the  matter  is  to  be  decided  by  a  casual  dip,  it  should  at 
least  be  made  in  the  author's  own  works ;  and  who  will 
venture  to  say  that  Peter  would  have  been  pilloried  as 
an  ignorant  and  trifling  writer,  if  Milner  had  happened 
to  open  on  col.  8G5,  and  to  have  read  in  one  of  his 
epistles,  "  Libri,  et  maxime  Augustiniani,  ut  nosti, 
apud  nos  auro  prectosiores  sunt"  ? 


s  Cent.  XII.  Chap.  viii.  See  Dupin,  vol.  X.  p.  82  of  the  English  Trans- 
lation.    Lond.  1698.  fol. 


365 


No.  XXII. 

"  It  is  most  deeply  to  be  lamented  that  your  lordship  should  not  have 
thought  proper  to  acquaint  yourself  with  some  of  the  most  general  and 
notorious  provisions  of  our  collegiate  statutes,  before  you  hazarded  against 
those  bodies  a  charge  which,  under  whatever  name  it  is  disguised,  cannot 

be  less  than  perjury Is  your  lordship  aware  that,  for  the  most 

part,  these  trivial  matters  are  expressly  placed  by  the  statutes  themselves 
at  the  discretion  of  the  governing  body ;  that  if  they  are  absurd  and  im- 
practicable (palpably  absurd,  and  wholly  impracticable — for  very  little 
licence  indeed  is  to  be  granted  in  our  notions  of  absurdity,)  there  is  a  dis- 
pensation in  the  very  nature  of  the  oath ;  sometimes  in  the  law  of  the 
land ;  always  in  the  law  of  interpretation  prescribed  by  the  founders  them- 
selves?"—  Sew  ell. 

I  hope  I  shall  not  be  understood  to  insinuate,  that 
Bernard  had  no  more  information  respecting  matters 
which  he  wished  to  mend,  than  what  is  considered  in 
the  present  day  quite  sufficient  for  a  zealous  reformer. 
But  really,  after  I  had  selected  and  translated  what  I 
am  about  to  lay  before  the  reader,  I  took  up  the  letter 
from  which  I  have  made  free  to  borrow  a  motto,  and 
there  seemed  to  be  such  a  resemblance  between  the 
circumstances  which  called  it  forth,  and  those  which 
led  to  Peter's  defence, — such  a  similarity  in  the  charge, 
the  manner  of  making  it,  and  the  mode  of  meeting  it, 
— that  the  abbot  might  have  written,  and  almost  did 
write,  the  very  words  which  I  have  quoted.  Indeed,  I 
am  afraid  that  I  shall  hardly  be  believed  when  I  say, 
that  I  took  the  motto  because  it  seemed  so  applicable 
to  the  extracts  which  I  had  already  made,  and  did  not 
select  or  modify  them  to  suit  the  motto. 

Before,  however,  I  call  the  reader's  attention  to  the 
dispute  between  Bernard  and  Peter,  (or  rather  between 
their  respective  "  Orders" — for  I  must  use  that  word, 
though  in  some  degree  by  anticipation,)  it  may  be 
necessary  to  remind  him,  that  the  two  men  hold  very 


366  BERNARD    OF    CLAIRVAUX  [NO.  XXII. 

different  places  in  history  from  those  which  they 
actually  occupied  among  their  contemporaries.  They 
were  of  nearly  the  same  age.  Bernard  was  born  in 
a.  d.  1091;  and  Peter,  perhaps  three  years,  or  more 
probably  only  one  year,  after.  They  were  both  of 
noble  family,  and  had  received  the  best  education 
which  the  times  afforded.  So  far  they  were  alike ; 
and  so  they  were  as  to  some  points  of  personal  charac- 
ter, which  it  is  not  to  our  present  purpose  to  discuss. 
But  as  to  official  station  they  differed  widely. 

Clugni,  the  "  Caput  Ordinis,"  had  long  been  the 
most  important  monastery  in  the  world.  I  have 
already  said  that  the  abbot  Hugh  was  supposed  to 
have  under  his  government  ten  thousand  monks ;  and 
of  these  Peter  found  three  hundred  at  Clugni  on  his 
accession  in  a.  d.  1122;  and  a  general  chapter,  which 
he  held  ten  years  after,  was  attended  by  two  hundred 
affiliated  priors.  I  have  not  such  accurate  information 
as  would  enable  me  to  say  whether  those  from  Mount 
Tabor,  or  the  valley  of  Jehosaphat,  or  Constantinople, 
were  there ;  for  I  am  not  sure  whether  they  were  then 
affiliated ;  but  the  Order  had  spread  far  and  wide,  and 
its  abbots  had  long  been  men  of  the  highest  station 
and  most  eminent  influence  in  all  matters,  both  eccle- 
siastical and  secular. 

The  dependencies  of  Citeaux,  of  course,  bore  no 
comparison.  Clairvaux  was,  indeed,  its  most  important 
filiation,  and  had,  even  when  Bernard  wrote  his  Apology, 
in  1125,  put  forth  some  shoots,  but  nobody  then  knew 
that  it  was  to  be  (either  by  adoption  or  foundation)  the 
parent  of  eight  hundred  monasteries.  It  had  only 
three  \  new,  of  course,  and,  I  apprehend,  poor,  and  at 

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


NO.  XXII.]  AND    PETER    OF    CLUGNI.  367 

no  great  distance  from  the  parent  monastery,  which 
had  scarcely  risen  into  wealth  or  importance  of  any 
kind,  except  what  it  derived  from  the  personal  charac- 
ter, the  uncommon  abilities,  and  the  singularly  influen- 
tial qualities  of  Bernard  himself.  No  man,  I  think, 
can  read  his  history  and  writings  without  feeling  that 
he  was  one  of  those  few  men  who  seem  as  if  they  could 
carry  all  the  rest  with  them  wherever  they  please,  if 
they  could  only  once  get  them  within  the  sphere  of 
their  personal  influence.  I  have  said  that  Peter  could 
not  have  been  attacked  by  any  one  whom  he  would 
have  been  more  imperatively  called  on  to  answer  fully ; 
and  perhaps  I  may  add,  on  the  other  side,  that  there 
was  no  one  whom,  under  all  the  circumstances,  it 
required  more  boldness  to  attack  than  the  abbot  of 
Clugni.  Not  that  we  are  to  regard  it  as  a  personal 
attack.  Bernard,  as  I  have  already  stated,  had  written 
a  most  severe  and  impassioned  letter  concerning  the 
abduction  of  his  cousin  Robert,  while  Pontius  was 
abbot  of  Clugni ;  and  when  (six  years  after)  he  wrote 
his  Apology,  it  does  not  appear  that  he  knew  much  of 
Peter,  and  it  seems  pretty  clear  that  they  had  never 
met.  Indeed,  Bernard  was  particularly  anxious  to  dis- 
claim anything  like  personal  feeling,  or  hostility  to  the 
Order;  and  though  his  Apology  is  certainly  sharp 
enough,  yet  it  is  evident  that  one  object  was  to  dis- 
claim feelings  and  opinions  which,  being  avowed  by 
others  of  his  Order,  had  been,  or  might  very  naturally 
be,  attributed  to  him.  In  what  may  be  considered  as 
the  introduction,  he  says — 

u  Who  ever  heard  me  openly  attacking,  or  privately  whis- 
pering against,  that  Order?  What  man  belonging  to  it  did 
I  ever  see  without  pleasure,  receive  without  honour,  speak  to 
without  reverence,  admonish  without  humility  ?  I  said,  and 
I  still  say,  that  their  mode  of  life  is  indeed  holy,  honest, 
adorned  with  charity,   distinguished   by   prudence,    instituted 


368  BERNARD    OF    CLAIRVAUX  [XO.   XXII. 

by  the  fathers,  foreordained  by  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  greatly 
conducive  to  the  good  of  souls.  Do  I  either  despise  or  con- 
demn that  of  which  I  speak  in  such  terms  I  I  remember  to 
have  been,  on  some  occasions,  received  as  a  guest  in  monas- 
teries of  that  Order.  May  the  Lord  reward  his  servants  for 
the  even  superabundant  kindness  which  they  shewed  me  in 
my  illness,  and  the  respect,  beyond  my  deserts,  with  which 
they  honoured  me.  I  commended  myself  to  their  prayers,  I 
was  present  at  their  collations ;  frequently  I  discoursed  with 
many  of  them  on  the  scriptures,  and  on  the  salvation  of 
souls,  both  publicly  in  their  chapters,  and  privately  in  their 
chambers. 

"  Whom  did  I  ever,  either  publicly  or  privately,  dissuade 
from  entering  that  Order,  or  solicit  to  enter  ours?  Have  I 
not  rather  repressed  many  who  wished  to  come,  and  even 
driven  away  those  who  did  come  and  knock  for  entrance  I 
Did  I  not  send  back  brother  Nicholas  to  St.  Nicholas's,  and 
two  monks  to  your  monastery,  as  you  can  bear  witness? 
Moreover,  were  there  not  two  abbots  of  that  Order  (whose 
names  I  will  not  mention,  but  you  know  them  very  well,  and 
you  know  that  they  are  my  intimate  friends2,)  who  wished  to 
migrate  to  another  Order  (which  you  also  know),  and  who, 
while  they  wrere  actually  deliberating  upon  it,  were  prevented 
by  my  advice,  and  persuaded  not  to  quit  their  posts  ?  Why 
then  should  T  be  thought,  or  said,  to  condemn  an  Order  in 
the  service  of  which  I  persuade  my  friends  to  remain,  to 
which  I  restore  its  monks  when  they  come  to  me,  and  whose 
prayers  for  myself  I  anxiously  solicit  and  devoutly  receive  ? 

"Or  is  it  because  I  am  myself  of  a  different  Order  that  I 
am  suspected  1  Why,  on  the  same  grounds,  all  of  you  who 
differ  from  us  may  be  said  to  reflect  on  us.  Then  those  who 
live  in  celibacy,  and  those  who  are  married,  may  be  said  to 
condemn  each  other,  because  each  forms  a  part  of  the  church, 
subject  to  its  own  laws.  The  monks  too,  and  the  regular 
clergy,  may  be  said  to  reflect  on  each  other,  because  they  are 
distinguished  from  each  other  by  peculiar  observances.  In- 
deed, we  may  suspect  that  Noah,  Daniel,  and  Job,  could  not 


2  One  of  them  being  the  abbot  William  himself.  The  monastery  of 
St.  Nicholas  here  mentioned  was  that  of  St.  Nicholas  aux  Bois,  in  the 
diocese  of  Laon.     Simon,  its  abbot,  was  the  brother  of  William. 


NO.  XXII.]  AND    PETER    OF    CLUGNI.  369 

bear  to  live  together  in  that  one  kingdom,  because  we  know 
that  they  have  not  reached  it  by  precisely  the  same  path  of 
righteousness.  We  must  suppose,  also,  that  either  Martha  or 
Mary  displeased  our  Saviour,  whom  both  were  trying  to 
please  by  modes  of  service  so  different.  On  this  principle, 
too,  one  cannot  conceive  of  anything  like  peace  or  concord  in 
the  whole  church,  which  is  distinguished  by  so  many  and 
such  different  Orders,  like  the  queen  of  whom  we  read  in  the 
Psalm,  '  clothed  round  about  with  varieties  V  For  what 
secure  tranquillity,  what  safe  state,  can  be  found  in  it,  if  each 
man,  choosing  some  one  Order,  either  despises  all  the  others 
or  suspects  that  they  despise  him  ?  especially  when  it  is 
impossible  for  one  man  to  belong  to  all  the  Orders,  or  for 
one  Order  to  contain  all  the  men. 

"  I  am  not  so  dull  as  not  to  know  Joseph's  coat — not  his 
who  saved  Egypt — but  his  who  saved  the  world ;  and  that, 
not  from  bodily  hunger,  but  from  the  death  of  both  soul  and 
body.  Every  one  knows  that  it  is  a  coat  of  many  colours, 
that  is,  diversified  with  beautiful  variety.  But  it  shews,  too, 
the  stain  of  blood — not  indeed  of  a  kid,  the  type  of  sin,  but 
of  the  lamb,  the  figure  of  innocence ;  that  is,  His  own,  and 
not  another's.  He  is  truly  that  most  meek  Lamb  who  was 
dumb,  not  indeed  before  the  shearer,  but  the  slaughterer ; 
who  did  no  sin,  but  took  away  the  sins  of  the  world.  They 
sent,  too,  those  who  should  say  to  Jacob,  '  We  have  found 
this ;  see  whether  it  is  thy  son's  coat  or  not.1  And  see  thou, 
0  Lord,  whether  this  is  the  coat  of  thy  beloved  Son.  Acknow- 
ledge, 0  Father  Almighty,  that  coat  of  many  colours  which 
thou  madest  for  Christ  thy  Son,  giving  some  apostles,  some 
prophets,  some  evangelists,  others  pastors  and  teachers,  and 
those  other  things  which  thou  hast  beautifully  appointed  for 
his  singular  ornament,  for  the  perfecting  of  the  saints,  coming 
to  a  perfect  man,  to  the  measure  of  the  stature  of  the  fulness 
of  Christ.  Vouchsafe,  also,  0  God,  to  acknowledge  the 
purple  of  that  most  precious  blood  with  which  it  is  stained, 
and,  in   that  purple,  the   illustrious   sign,  the  most  glorious 


3  The  Vulgate  reads,  "  Circumamicta  varietatibus."  Ps.  xliv.  15.  Eng. 
Version  (xlv.  14.)  "  In  raiment  of  needlework."  I  give  the  Douay  ver- 
sion here  and  in  some  other  places  as  the  only  way  of  rendering  the  refer- 
ence intelligible. 

B    1) 


370  BERNARD    OF    CLAIRVAUX  [NO.  XXII. 

token  of  obedience.  '  Wherefore,1  saith  he,  '  art  thou  red  in 
thine  apparel  V  and  he  answers,  '  I  have  trodden  the  wine- 
press alone,  and  of  the  people  there  was  none  with  me.' 

"  Therefore,  since  he  hath  become  obedient  unto  the 
Father,  even  unto  the  wine-press  of  the  cross  which  he  trod 
alone,  (for  it  was  his  own  right  arm  that  helped  him,)  accord- 
ing as  it  is  written  in  another  place,  '  I  am  alone  until  I 
pass 4 ; 1  now,  therefore,  exalt  Him,  0  God,  and  give  unto 
Him  a  name  that  is  above  every  name,  that  at  the  name  of 
Jesus  every  knee  should  bow,  of  things  in  heaven  and  things 
in  earth,  and  things  under  the  earth  ; — let  him  ascend  up  on 
high,  lead  captivity  captive,  and  give  gifts  to  men.  What 
gifts  ?  Let  him  leave  to  his  spouse  the  church  that  coat  of 
many  colours,  but  'without  seam,  woven  from  the  top 
throughout ! '  Of  many  colours,  from  the  various  distinc- 
tions of  the  many  Orders  which  compose  it ;  but  without 
seam,  by  reason  of  the  indivisible  unity  of  indissoluble 
charity.  '  Who,1  saith  he,  '  shall  separate  me  from  the  love 
of  Christ?1  Hear  how  it  is  of  many  colours: — 'There  are,1 
he  says,  '  diversities  of  gifts,  but  the  same  Spirit ;  and  there 
are  diversities  of  operations,  but  the  same  Lord ; 1  and  then, 
having  enumerated  various  gifts,  as  it  were  the  colours  of  the 
garment,  to  shew  that  it  is  a  coat  of  many  colours,  he  adds, 
in  order  to  shew  that  it  is  without  seam,  and  woven  from  the 
top  throughout, — '  But  all  these  worketh  that  one  and  the 
self-same  Spirit,  dividing  to  every  man  severally  as  he  will.1 
For  'the  love  of  God  is  shed  abroad  in  our  hearts  by  the 
Holy  Spirit  which  is  given  to  us.1  Let  it  not  then  be  divided ; 
but  let  the  church  obtain  it  whole  and  entire,  by  her  here- 
ditary right ;  for  of  this  it  is  written, — '  the  queen  stood  on 
thy  right  hand  in  clothing  of  gold,  surrounded  with  variety  V 
Therefore  it  is  that  different  persons  receive  different  gifts — 
one  thus,  and  another  thus — whether  monks  of  Clugni  or  of 
Citeaux,  or  canons,  or  even  faithful  laymen,  in  short,  every 
Order,  every  tongue,  each  sex,  every  age  and  condition,  in 
every  place,  through  all  time,  from  the  first  man  to  the  last. 
For  it  is  on  this  account  too  that  it  is  described  as  a  long 


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

5  "  In  vestitu  deaurato  circumdata  varietate,"  v.  10. 


NO.  XXII.]  AND    PETER    OF    CLUGNI.  371 

garment6,  because  it  reacheth  unto  the  end,  (as  the  prophet 
saith,  '  there  is  no  one  that  can  hide  himself  from  its  heat,') 
suited  to  him  for  whom  it  was  made,  of  whom  another  scrip- 
ture testifieth  that  he  '  reacheth  therefore  from  end  to  end 
mightily,  and  ordereth  all  things  sweetly  V 

"  Let  us  all  therefore  unite  under  one  garment,  and  out  of 
all  let  one  be  made.  Of  all,  I  say,  one — for  though  made 
up  of  many,  and  those  differing,  my  dove,  my  perfect  one,  is 
but  one8;  that  is,  not  I  alone,  nor  you  without  me,  nor  he 
without  either  of  us;  but  we  are  all,  and  at  the  same  time, 
one,  if  we  are  but  careful  to  maintain  the  unity  of  the  Spirit 
in  the  bond  of  peace.  It  is  not,  I  say,  exclusively  our  Order, 
or  exclusively  yours,  which  constitutes  that  one,  but  yours 
and  ours  together — unless  (which  God  forbid)  envying  one 
another,  and  provoking  one  another,  we  bite  one  another,  and 
are  consumed  one  of  another,  and  so  make  it  impossible  for 
the  apostle  to  present  us  as  a  chaste  virgin  to  Christ,  that  one 
husband  to  whom  he  espouses  us.  Yet  that  one  saith  in  the 
canticle,  4  He  set  in  order  charity  in  me 9 ';  that,  although 
one  in  charity,  it  might  be  diverse  in  ordination.  What  then  ? 
I  am  a  Cistercian — do  I  therefore  condemn  those  of  Clugni  \ 
God  forbid ;  but  I  love,  I  praise,  I  magnify  them.  '  Why, 
then,1  you  will  say,  ■  do  you  not  take  upon  you  that  Order,  if 
you  so  praise  it  f  Hear — because  the  apostle  says,  '  Let 
every  man  abide  in  the  same  calling  wherein  he  was  called  1V 
And  if  you  ask  why  I  did  not  originally  choose  it,  if  I  knew 
it  to  be  such  as  I  have  stated,  I  answer,  because  the  apostle 
again  says,  '  All  things  are  lawful  for  me,  but  all  things  are 
not  expedient.1  Not,  that  is,  that  the  Order  is  not  holy  and 
just,  but  that  I  was  carnal,  sold  under  sin  ;  and  I  felt  that  my 
soul  was  so  diseased  as  to  require  more  powerful  medicine. 
Now,  for  different  disorders,  different  medicines  are  proper; 
and  for  more  powerful  disorders  stronger  medicines.  Suppose 
two  men  to  have  quartan  and  tertian  ague ;  he  who  has  the 
quartan  recommends  for  the  tertian,   water,  pears,   and   all 


6  "  Nudaverunt  eum  tunica  talari  et  polymita." — Gen.  xxxvii.  23. 
'  Wisd.  viii.  1.  8  Cant.  vi.  8.  Douay. 

9  M  Ordinavit  in  me  caritatem."    Cant.  ii.  4.    We  translate  "  His  banner 
over  me  was  love." 

10  1  Cor.  vi.  10. 

Bb2 


372  BERNARD    OF    CLAIRVAUX  [NO.  XXII. 

sorts  of  cold  things,  while  he  abstains  from  them  himself, 
and  takes  wine  and  other  warm  things  as  more  suitable  for 
him.  Who,  I  ask,  can  properly  blame  him?  If  the  other 
should  say  to  him,  '  Why  do  not  you  drink  the  water  which 
you  so  praise  V — would  he  not  rightly  answer,  '  I  prescribe  it 
faithfully  in  your  case,  and  abstain  from  it  beneficially  in  my 
own.1  But  suppose  it  be  asked,  i  Why,  as  I  praise  all  the 
Orders,  I  do  not  keep  them  allT — for  I  do  praise  and  love 
all  the  Orders,  wherever  they  live  piously  and  righteously  in 
the  church.  I  do  hold  one  in  practice,  the  others  in  charity 
— and  charity  will  be  a  means  (I  speak  confidently)  that  I 
shall  not  lose  the  fruit  of  those  whose  customs  I  do  not 
adopt.  I  will  say  something  further — do  you  take  care  of 
yourself;  for  it  may  happen  that  you  may  have  laboured  in 
vain,  but  that  my  love  to  your  good  works  should  be  vain  is 
impossible.  Oh !  how  great  confidence  may  we  have  in 
charity :  one  man  works  without  charity,  while  another  with 
charity  does  nothing  but  look  on ;  the  one  loses  his  labour, 
the  other's  charity  never  faileUi.™ 

Bernard  proceeds  to  rebuke,  with  great  asperity, 
those  members  of  his  own  Order  who  brought  railing 
accusations  against  the  monks  of  Clugni ;  and  then 
goes  on  to  point  out  what  he  considered  wrong  or 
defective  in  the  customs  of  that  monastery.  This  he 
does,  it  must  be  admitted,  not  so  much  in  the  style  of 
brotherly  expostulation,  as  of  passionate  invective.  I 
should  like  to  give  the  whole  of  this  Apology,  and, 
indeed,  (if  I  may  so  speak)  all  the  pleadings  of  the  case, 
of  which  this  Apology  formed  the  declaration;  but 
though  they  appear  to  me  to  be  most  curious  and 
valuable  documents,  throwing  great  light  on  the  period, 
and  especially  on  our  subject,  yet  I  do  not  know  that 
others  might  think  them  equally  interesting;  and, 
moreover,  as  Peter  himself  quietly  observes,  in  one  of 
his  letters : — "  Additur  difficultati  studium  brevitatis, 
qua  moderni  nescio  qua  innata  segnicie  delectantur." 
Were  I,  however,  to  transcribe  the  whole  of  Bernard's 
work,  I  do  not  think  that  it  would  give  the  reader  so 


NO.   XXII.]  AXD    PETER    OF    CLU6NI.  373 

clear  an  idea  of  the  matters  in  dispute  as  may  be  con- 
veyed by  extracting  the  brief  statement  of  them  with 
which  Peter  introduces  his  reply.  This,  though  it  is  in 
the  form  of  a  letter  to  Bernard,  professes  not  so  much 
to  be  an  answer  to  his  Apology,  as  to  the  charges  com- 
monly brought  by  the  Cistercians. 

"  Some  of  your  monks,  however,  object  to  ours  in  this 
manner : — You,  say  they,  do  not  keep  the  Kule  which  you 
have  professed  to  follow,  as  may  be  seen  by  your  works.  On 
the  contrary,  your  feet  have  turned  aside  into  unknown  paths, 
and  devious  tracks  of  all  sorts.  For,  having  made  laws  for 
yourselves,  according  to  your  own  liking,  you  call  them  most 
sacred.  You  renounce  the  precepts  of  the  fathers  for  your 
traditions  ;  and,  what  seems  monstrous,  you  act  in  one  and 
the  same  matter  both  as  masters  and  disciples.  Moreover, 
to  increase  your  sin  and  the  Divine  displeasure,  you  bind 
yourselves  by  a  vow  before  God  and  his  saints,  and,  trans- 
gressing it,  you  shew  yourselves,  without  all  doubt,  guilty  of 
breaking  a  vow.  You  promise  to  fight  in  the  heavenly  camp 
under  the  rule  of  St.  Benedict,  and  to  maintain  a  perpetual 
obedience  to  his  regulations.  This  is  your  promise — let  us 
see  whether  your  manner  of  life  corresponds  to  it. 

"  And  that  we  may  take  up  these  points  in  regular  order, 
how  do  you  keep  the  Rule  as  to  the  admission  of  novices, 
when  it  directs  that  they  shall  not  be  received  until  after  a 
year,  during  which  their  spirits  shall  be  tried  whether  they 
are  of  God  ',  and  you  receive  them  without  hesitation,  and,  (if 
we  may  so  speak)  the  very  moment  that  they  apply  \  Whence 
it  happens  that,  having  been  carelessly  received,  they  live 
still  more  carelessly  after  their  reception ;  and  because  when 
they  came  they  did  not  understand  what  they  were  coming 
to,  when  they  are  associated  with  the  rest  they  know  not 
what  to  do ;  and,  not  having  been  previously  trained  in  the 
stadium,  when  they  come  to  the  real  conflict  they  fly  instead 
of  fighting,  or  if  they  fight  with  a  bravery  which  should 
ensure  conquest,  their  inexpertness  renders  them  an  easy 
prey  to  the  enemy. 


1   "  Noviter  veniens  quis  ad  conversionem.  non  ei  facihs  tribuatur  in- 
gressus:  sed  sicut  ait  apostolus  '  probate  spiritus,'  "  &c.     Cop.  lviii. 


374  BERNARD    OF    CLAIRVAUX  [NO.  XXII. 

"  By  what  authority,  also,  do  you  defend  the  use  of  leather 
garments,  and  of  skins  of  various  sorts,  when  that  Rule  con- 
tains nothing  about  any  such  things ? 

"  It  commands,  also,  that  those  who  are  sent  abroad  shall 
receive  breeches  from  the  wardrobe,  and  shall  replace  them 
there  on  their  return,  not  allowing  any  one  but  those  who  are 
so  circumstanced  to  wear  them 2. 

"  As  to  your  bed  furniture,  judge  for  yourselves  whether 
you  follow  the  master,  while  you  certainly  put  both  under 
and  over  you  more  things,  and  different  things  than  those 
prescribed  by  the  Rule3. 

"In  that  Rule,  so  often  mentioned  already,  you  read  that 
all  the  monks  should  be  satisfied  with  two  dressed  dishes  ;  or 
that,  if  there  be  means  for  providing  a  third,  it  shall  be  of 
fruit,  or  pulse 4 ;  whether  you  adhere  to  this,  is  known  to 
yourselves. 

"  It  commands  that  monks  who  are  transgressors  and 
apostates  from  their  profession, — that  is,  those  who  with- 
draw their  necks  from  the  yoke  of  the  Rule,  run  away  from 
monasteries,  and  return  to  secular  life — shall,  if  they  express 
their  repentance  and  desire  to  return,  be  received  to  the 
third  time  5 ;  and  that  if  after  that  they  repeat  the  offence, 
they  shall  not  be  again  received.  You,  however,  set  at  nought 
this  regulation,  as  you  do  the  others,  and  receive  them  as 
often  as  they  choose  to  come,  contrary  to  the  command  of 
the  Rule. 

"  What  shall  we  say  of  the  regular  fasts  which  you  have  so 
set  aside,  and  so  changed  according  to  your  own  will  and 
pleasure,  that  you  scarcely  retain  some  small  remains  of 
them — and  those,  perhaps,  more  from  shame  towards  man 
than  from  the  fear  of  God?  For  whereas  the  monks  are 
commanded  to  fast  on  Wednesdays  and  Fridays,  from  Whit- 
suntide to  the  13th  of  September,  they  should  fast  till  the 
ninth  hour,  unless  they  have  work  to  do  in  the  fields,  or  the 
heat  of  the  weather  should  be  very  oppressive.  And  whereas 
it  is  also  enjoined,  that  from  the  13th  of  September  to  Ash- 
Wednesday  they  should  always  take  their  meal  at  the  ninth 
hour 6,  you,  on  the  contrary,  throughout  the  summer,  make 


Cap.  iv.         3  Ibid.         '  Cap.  xxxix.         B  Cap.  xxix.         "  Cap.  xli. 


NO.  XXII.]  AND    PETER    OF    CLUGNI.  375 

all  the  days  of  the  week  alike,  and  keep  the  prescribed  fast 
by  eating  twice  every  day,  and  the  remainder  of  the  time,  by 
keeping  or  neglecting  the  fast  at  your  pleasure.  Instead  of 
submitting  yourselves  to  the  Rule,  you  make  the  Rule  submit 
to  you. 

"  Manual  labour,  which  the  holy  fathers,  the  hermits, 
always  used — whereby  even  the  apostles  provided  the  means 
of  sustenance  for  themselves  and  others — concerning  which, 
while  visiting  the  sin  of  the  first  man  with  this  punishment, 
God  said,  '  in  the  sweat  of  thy  brow  thou  shalt  eat  thy  bread ' 
— of  which,  also,  David,  4  Thou  shalt  eat  the  labours  of  thy 
hands ;  blessed  art  thou,  and  it  shall  be  well  with  thee  ;'  you 
have  so  renounced,  that  not  even  all  these  authorities  have 
power  to  make  you  labour,  nor  can  the  obedience  which  you 
promised  to  render  to  God,  according  to  the  Rule,  prevail  to 
draw  from  your  bosom,  and  set  to  work,  hands  that  have 
become  delicate  through  idleness. 

"  You  know  that  it  is  there  also  commanded,  that  on  the 
arrival  or  departure  of  guests,  Christ,  who  is  received  in 
them,  is  to  be  worshipped  by  the  monks,  with  bowing  of  the 
head,  or  the  prostration  of  the  whole  body  on  the  ground. 
Neither  are  you  ignorant  that  it  is  there  commanded — c  The 
abbot  shall  pour  water  on  the  hands  of  the  guests ;  the  abbot 
and  the  whole  congregation  shall  wash  the  feet  of  all  the 
guests 7 ;'  but  you,  despisers  of  your  vow,  do  not  care  to  keep 
it  even  in  that  small  matter. 

"  The  abbot  is  directed  to  keep  an  inventory  of  the  imple- 
ments and  various  things  belonging  to  the  monastery  8 ;  but 
either  through  negligence  he  does  not  care,  or  through  pride 
he  does  not  condescend,  to  do  it. 

u  Moreover,  whereas  it  is  commanded  that  those  who  are 
not  able  to  attend  the  church  to  join  in  divine  worship,  shall 
bow  their  knees  with  godly  fear  in  the  place  where  they  may 
happen  to  be 9 ;  you  (according  to  your  custom,  following 
your  own  rule  and  despising  the  common  one)  neglect  this, 
though  there  is  nothing  very  burdensome  in  it ;  and,  making 
some  devices  of  your  own,  you  put  contempt  on  this  little 
commandment,  just  as  you  do  on  those  which  are  greater. 

"  Also,  it  commands  that  the  abbot  shall  always  take  his 

Cap.  liii.  s  Cap.  xxxii.  9  Cap.  1. 


376  BERNARD    OF    CLAIRVAUX  [NO.  XXII. 

meals  with  the  guests  and  strangers  \  that  so  he  may  always 
have  Christ  as  his  guest,  who  declares  that  he  will  say,  '  I 
was  a  stranger,  and  ye  took  me  in.1  This  so  great  benefit, 
and  one  so  easily  obtained,  you  despise,  as  if  you  thought  it 
of  no  value. 

"  It  is  commanded  that  wheresoever  the  brethren  meet 
each  other,  the  younger  shall  ask  a  blessing  of  the  elder 2 ; 
and  this,  also,  is  not  done  among  you. 

"  It  is  commanded  that  a  wise  old  man  shall  be  put  at  the 
gate  of  the  monastery 3,  which  is  not  done. 

"It  is  directed  that  the  porter  shall  answer,  4  Deo  gratias,"* 
or  give  his  blessing  to  every  one  who  shall  knock  or  call ;  and 
this  is  not  observed. 

"  This,  however — this,  I  say,  opposed  to  all  reason  and  au- 
thority, how  do  you  defend — that  those  who  have  already  made 
profession  of  steadfastness,  and  conversion,  and  obedience,  in 
one  place,  should  again,  in  another  place,  repeat  the  vow  of 
steadfastness,  conversion,  and  obedience ;  and  you  compel 
them  to  make  void  their  former  faith ;  so  that  you  thus 
environ  those  who  give  way  to  you  with  such  inevitable 
peril,  that,  turn  which  way  they  will,  they  cannot  escape  sin. 
For  if  they  will  keep  the  first  vow,  they  are  guilty  as  to  the 
second  ;  if  they  keep  the  second,  they  are  entangled  by  the 
first.  Nor  do  they  alone  suffer ;  but  the  same  chain  will 
bind  yourselves,  perhaps  even  more  severely ;  for  deceivers 
ought  to  suffer  a  greater  punishment  than  those  who  are 
deceived. 

"  But,  besides,  give,  if  you  can,  any  excuse  for  this — that, 
contrary  to  your  Rule,  so  often  mentioned,  (yours,  certainly, 
— yours,  either  to  save  or  condemn  you,)  you  receive,  indif- 
ferently, monks  of  another,  and  of  a  known  monastery, 
without  permission  of  their  own  abbots,  or  letters  of  recom- 
mendation ;  and  thus  you  do  to  others  what  you  would  not 
have  done  to  yourselves 4.  In  this,  also,  you  shew  a  want  of 
regard  to  brotherly  love,  nor  do  you  love  your  neighbours  as 
yourselves,  according  to  the  divine  precept,  which  says,  c  This 
is  my  commandment,  that  ye  love  one  another.1 

"  Beside  all  this,  there  is  one  thing  which  you  pertina- 
ciously  maintain,    which  every  one  must   plainly    see  to   be 

1  Cap.  lvi.         :  Cap.  lxiii.         8  Cap.  lxvi.         4  Cap.  hi. 


NO.  XXII.]  AND    PETER    OF    CLU6NI.  377 

unjust,  and  contrary  to  the  decrees  of  the  church,  and  such 
as  might  lead  all  persons  justly  to  condemn  you.  Contrary 
to  the  custom  of  the  whole  world,  you  refuse  to  have  any 
bishop  of  your  own.  How  absurd  this  is,  even  the  ignorant 
must  see.  For  whence  are  you  to  get  chrism  ?  whence  holy 
orders?  whence  the  consecration  of  churches,  and  the  bene- 
diction of  burial  places?  whence,  in  short,  all  things  which, 
in  order  to  canonical  performance,  require  the  presence  or 
direction  of  a  bishop?  Certainly  in  these  points  you  break 
the  Rule,  not  only  of  monks,  but  of  all  Christians. 

"  On  what  ground  do  you  hold  parish  churches,  first  fruits, 
and  tithes,  when,  according  to  the  canons,  all  these  things 
pertain  not  to  monks,  but  to  clerks  ?  That  is,  they  are  granted 
to  those  whose  office  it  is  to  baptize,  and  to  preach,  and  to 
perform  whatever  else  belongs  to  the  cure  of  souls,  in  order 
that  they  may  not  be  necessarily  involved  in  secular  business ; 
but  that,  as  they  labour  in  the  church,  they  may  live  by  the 
church,  as  the  Lord  saith,  4  The  labourer  is  worthy  of  his 
hire.''  But  why  do  you  usurp  these  things,  while  it  is  not 
your  place  to  do  any  of  the  duties  which  we  have  mentioned  ? 
and  while  you  do  not  perform  that  labour,  why  do  you  take  the 
wages  thereof? 

"  But  what  will  you  say  concerning  those  secular  posses- 
sions which  you  hold  after  the  manner  of  secular  persons, 
from  whom,  in  this  particular,  you  seem  not  to  differ  at  all. 
For  towns,  villages,  and  peasants,  servants  and  handmaids, 
and,  what  is  worse,  the  proceeds  of  tolls  and  taxes,  and  almost 
all  revenues  of  that  kind,  you  receive  indifferently,  hold  them 
unlawfully,  and  when  they  are  attacked,  you  do  not  scruple 
to  use  all  means  to  defend  them.  Hence  it  is  that,  contrary 
to  the  laws  of  monastic  order,  ecclesiastics  carry  on  secular 
causes,  monks  turn  advocates,  accuse  and  are  accused,  become 
witnesses,  (contrary  to  the  apostle's  injunction,)  are  present 
at  trials,  and,  under  pretext  of  maintaining  their  rights,  they 
do,  in  heart,  return  into  Egypt.  After  having  left  Sodom, 
they  turn  to  behold  its  conflagration.  Having  put  their  hand  to 
the  plough,  they  look  back,  and  therefore  cannot  be  fit  for  the 
kingdom  of  heaven.  In  all  these  things  we  have  very  clearly 
shewn  that  you  are  transgressors  of  your  profession,  and  of 
your  vow ;  for  if  it  is  certain  that  your  Rule  has  commanded 
these  things,  and  that  you  have  made  a  vow  to  keep  it — if  it 


378  BERNARD    OF    CLAIRVAUX  [NO.  XXII. 

shall  appear  that  you  have  not  hitherto  done  this — it  is  clear, 
as  we  have  said,  that  you  are  guilty  of  breaking  your  vow. 
But  we  observe  all  these  things  as  they  are  commanded ;  and 
keep,  without  exception,  whatsoever  is  in  the  Rule  which  we 
promised  to  God  that  we  would  keep. 

"  To  these  things  our  monks  reply — Oh,  oh !  a  new  race 
of  pharisees  has  risen  up  in  the  world,  who  separating  them- 
selves from  others,  and  setting  up  themselves  before  all,  say 
what  the  prophet  foretold  that  they  would  say,  '  Touch  me 
not,  for  I  am  clean.'  But  to  answer  first  to  that  which  you 
have  put  last — say,  you  true  observers  of  the  Rule,  how  is  it 
that  you  boast  of  keeping  it?  when,  as  your  very  words 
shew,  you  do  not  even  keep  that  short  paragraph  in  which  it 
is  said  that  a  monk  is  not  only  to  declare  with  his  lips,  but 
to  feel  in  his  inmost  heart,  that  he  is  the  least,  and  meanest 
of  men 5 1  Is  this  to  believe  and  to  declare  yourselves  infe- 
rior, when  you  disparage  the  deeds  of  others  and  extol  your 
own,  despise  others  and  magnify  yourselves,  while  the  scrip- 
ture directs — c  when  ye  shall  have  done  all  those  things  which 
are  commanded  you,  say,  We  are  unprofitable  servants  V 
4  In  thy  sight,'  says  the  prophet,  '  shall  no  man  living  be 
justified ;'  and  Isaiah,  '  All  our  righteousnesses  are  as  filthy 
rags."' " 

Having  thus  briefly  stated  the  charges,  the  abbot 
proceeds  to  answer  them  in  detail,  and  at  considerable 
length ;  but  one  or  two  extracts  will  enable  the  reader 
to  judge  of  the  style  and  spirit  of  his  reply,  and  how  far 
it  was  just  (even  supposing  that  he  had  not  written 
anything  but  that  single  letter  to  Bernard)  to  charac- 
terize him  as  an  ignorant  and  trifling  writer,  who 
"  may  seem  to  have  placed  the  essence  of  Christianity 
in  frivolous  punctilios  and  insignificant  ceremonies." 

"  It  is  objected  to  us  that,  on  every  arrival  or  departure  of 
guests,  both  the  abbot  and  the  whole  congregation  do  not 
prostrate  themselves  on  the  ground,  or  bow  all  their  heads  in 
the  sight  of  all  the  guests,  that  the  abbot  does  not  pour  water 
on  the  hands  of  the  guests,  and  that  he,  as  well  as  the  whole 

6  In  cap.  vii. 


NO.  XXII.]  AND    PETER    OF    CLUGNI.  379 

congregation  does  not  wash  all  their  feet.  It  is  affirmed  by 
the  objectors,  that  the  salvation  of  monks  depends  on  their 
keeping  these  things  to  the  letter ;  but,  oh  !  men,  like  chil- 
dren running  after  butterflies,  fighting,  yet  beating  not  us  but 
the  air,  making  frivolous  objections,  not  following  the  path 
of  discretion,  the  mother  of  virtues,  and  therefore  turning 
aside  from  the  right  way ;  tell  us,  we  beseech  you,  is  the 
congregation  of  Clugni  or  any  other  congregation  to  be 
adjudged  to  have  broken  its  vow,  and  therefore  to  be  de- 
prived of  eternal  salvation,  unless,  with  its  abbot,  it  bows  or 
prostrates  itself  before  all  guests  who  come  and  go  ?  Shall 
it  be  consigned  to  perdition  if  it  does  not  wash  the  hands  and 
feet  of  all  the  guests  ?  If  it  be  so,  either  the  whole  body  of 
monks  must  be  at  all  times  in  the  house  appropriated  to 
guests,  or  the  guests  must  be  lodged  in  the  cloister  and  in 
the  apartments  of  the  monks ;  for  it  is  quite  impossible  that 
the  injunction  should  be  literally  fulfilled  unless  they  actually 
live  together.  For  the  continual  coming  and  going  of  visi- 
tors will  require  the  constant  attendance  of  those  who  are  to 
wait  upon  them. 

"  Hence  it  will  happen  that  those  whom  you  wish  to  be 
monks  can  no  longer  be  so,  but,  always  living  with  secular 
persons,  will  lose  both  the  name  and  the  true  life  of  monks  ; 
and  while  they  are  labouring  unwisely  to  keep  this  part  of 
the  law,  they  must  give  up  all  the  rest  of  it,  without  even 
attaining  what  they  aim  at.  Thus,  plainly  thus,  it  will  hap- 
pen— this  will  be  the  consequence — monks  must  live  with 
clerks,  soldiers,  peasants,  clients,  players,  and  men  of  various 
conditions,  and  even  (for  they  are  not  shut  out  from  hospi- 
tality) with  women ;  and  these  peculiar  persons,  these  who 
are  dead  to  the  world,  these  to  whom  even  the  free  use  of  the 
common  air  is  not  allowed,  are  to  be  again  mixed  up  in  pro- 
miscuous intercourse  with  mankind,  from  whom  they  have 
separated.  Undoubtedly  the  number  of  visitors  is  almost 
always  so  great  that  if  we  must  bow  and  prostrate  ourselves 
before  them  all,  and  if  we  must  wash  the  hands  and  feet  of 
all,  it  will  be  necessary,  as  I  have  said,  that  all  the  monks 
should  be  with  them  from  the  rising  of  the  sun  to  its  setting, 
and  spend  the  whole  day  in  genuflections  and  in  washing 
hands  and  feet,  and  very  often  they  would  not  be  able  to  go 
through  the  business  in  the  day.     Let  them,  then,  give  up 


380  BERNARD    OF    CLAIRVAUX  [NO.  XXII. 

all  divine  service  ;  let  them  give  up  all  the  other  parts  of  the 
Rule  ;  let  them  give  up  even  their  meals ;  let  them  not  trou- 
ble themselves  about  prime,  or  tierce,  or  sext,  or  nones,  or 
vespers,  or  complin,  or  the  celebration  of  mass ;  let  them 
give  up  all  these  things  for  the  washing  of  hands  and  feet, 
and  either  let  the  church  be  silent,  or  let  some  other  persons 
be  found  to  do  the  duty  of  the  monks.  Does  not  this  appear 
very  ridiculous  ?  Would  not  even  the  most  stupid  protest 
against  such  a  proceeding?  Would  not  even  the  brute 
beasts  cry  out  against  it?  We  do,  however,  what  we  can; 
and  on  every  day  in  the  year  we  do  wash  the  hands  and  the 
feet  of  three  strangers,  and  offer  them  bread  and  wine,  the 
abbot  taking  his  turn,  and  none  except  those  who  are  dis- 
abled by  sickness  being  excepted. 

"  Thus  we  fulfil  what  we  can  of  the  Rule,  and  do  not,  for 
the  sake  of  this,  break  the  other  parts  of  it ;  for  it  behoves 
us,  as  our  Lord  saith,  to  do  these  things  and  not  to  leave  the 
others  undone.  And  though,  as  I  have  shewn,  reason  itself, 
even  without  our  adding  anything,  exclaims  against  your 
objection,  and  completely  makes  an  end  of  it,  yet  it  behoves 
us  to  recur  to  what  we  before  stated,  and  from  thence  to 
shew  that  we  fully  keep  the  Rule.  St.  Benedict  says,  '  Let 
the  abbot  so  temper  and  dispose  all  things  as  that  souls  may 
be  saved.1  He  said  c  all  things,1  and  excepted  nothing.  If, 
therefore,  the  abbot  is  allowed,  for  the  good  of  souls,  to  tem- 
per and  dispose  all  things,  it  is  lawful  for  him  so  to  temper 
these  things  that  have  been  mentioned  as  that  the  guests 
shall  want  nothing  that  is  necessary,  but  shall  be  received 
and  provided  for  with  respect,  brotherly  love,  and  diligence  ; 
while,  at  the  same  time,  the  church  of  God  shall  not  be 
defrauded  of  its  proper  services,  and  no  part,  even  the  least, 
of  regular  observance  shall  be  intermitted. " 

I  think  this  will  appear  to  most  readers  to  be  a  sen- 
sible and  sufficient  reply  to  the  charge.  His  defence 
on  another  point  certainly  seems  less  satisfactory  if  we 
look  at  the  strict  letter  of  the  Rule  ;  but  it  is  perhaps 
on  that  account  the  more  to  our  purpose.  Tt  shews 
the  abbot  contending  not  for  punctilios,  but  for  such  a 
discretionary  dispensing  power  as  might  indeed   have 


NO.  XXII.]  AND    PETER    OF    CLUGNI.  381 

been  long  used  in  his  monastery,  but  has  perhaps 
scarcely  ever  obtained  in  any  other,  where  the  Rule  of 
St.  Benedict  was  professed.  The  passage  is,  moreover, 
very  characteristic  of  the  man. 

"  You  say  that  the  Rule  directs  that  we  should  place  a 
wise  old  man  at  the  gate  of  the  monastery,  and  that  we  omit 
to  do  so.  But  we  reply — supposing  us  to  have  a  porter  who 
is  a  wise  man,  though  he  does  not  happen  to  be  an  old  one, 
are  we  to  be  condemned  as  breakers  of  the  Rule,  and  on  that 
account  deserving  of  hell  ?  Suppose  we  should  not  be  able 
to  find  old  age  and  wisdom  in  the  same  person  ?  Is  he  on 
this  account — because  he  is  not  both  old  in  years  and  wise 
in  conduct — incapable  of  acting  as  porter?  What  says  the 
scripture  I — ■  Wisdom  is  the  grey  hair  unto  men,  and  an 
unspotted  life  is  old  ageV  Beside  this — unless  he  answers, 
'  Deo  gratias,1  to  all  who  knock  or  call,  or  bawls  out  a  bene- 
diction, even  though  he  should  perform  all  the  offices  of  kind- 
ness to  those  who  come,  yet,  according  to  you,  it  profiteth 
nothing ;  and  not  even  the  whole  Rule,  kept  most  strictly  in 
all  other  points,  can  suffice  to  save  us,  unless  the  aforesaid 
porter  cries  out  with  a  loud  voice,  ■  Deo  gratias.1  Let  reason 
consider  this,  let  truth  consider,  let  the  lovers  of  truth  con- 
sider, and,  without  our  saying  a  word,  let  them  tell  us  what 
they  think.  But  why  are  we  to  place  a  porter  at  our  gate, 
when  ice  have  no  gate  ?  For  our  gates  are  not  shut  by  day  ; 
but,  always  standing  open,  they  admit  all  comers,  without 
respect  of  persons.  No  one  is  obliged  to  knock  or  call, 
because  he  finds,  not  only  the  outer  gates,  but  the  entrance 
to  the  hospitium  open ;  and,  seating  himself  there,  he  sees 
that  every  necessary  preparation  has  been  made  for  his  recep- 
tion. Lest,  however,  the  monks  should  be  kept  out  of  their 
own  houses,  we  cause  a  wise  and  honest  servant  to  remain, 
and  to  lie  at  hand ;  who,  at  noon,  or  at  those  times  when  all 
the  gates  of  the  monastery  are  by  custom  closed,  may  answer 
to  those  who  knock  or  call,  not  so  much  by  the  clamour  of 
his  voice,  as  by  the  performance  of  his  duty.  Then,  cer- 
tainly, thus  doing,  we  are  not  breakers,  but,  according  to  our 
power,  keepers  of  our  Rule." 

*  Wisd.  iv.  9- 


382  EPISTOLARY    CORRESPONDENCE       [NO.  XXIII. 

These  extracts  will  not,  I  trust,  be  found  uninterest- 
ing by  the  reader.  I  give  them  not  only  as  a  matter 
of  justice  to  Peter,  but  as  directly  bearing  on  our 
subject. 


No.  XXIII. 


"  Pontio  Clarevallensi  successit  Petrus,  cujus  meminit  Trithemius,  libro 
de  scriptoribus  Ecclesiasticis,  floruitque  hoc  duodecimo  seculo.  Is  unus 
eorum  est  qui  Romanam  tyrannidem  animadvertit  et  accusavit." 

C4.T.  Test.  Verit. 

In  the  preceding  paper  I  have  exhibited  Bernard  and 
Peter,  not,  indeed,  as  enemies — for,  to  the  credit  of 
both  parties,  there  does  not  seem  to  have  existed  any- 
thing that  could  be  called  enmity  between  them,  even 
in  the  height  of  their  dispute — yet  in  something  like  a 
hostile  position  towards  each  other.  It  is  but  justice 
to  shew  them  as  friends ;  and  happily  we  have  the 
means  of  doing  this  from  some  of  the  letters  which 
passed  between  them. 

It  may  perhaps  be  remembered,  that  I  was  led  to 
speak  of  Peter  by  getting  unexpectedly  involved  in  his 
correspondence ;  and,  in  truth,  it  was  with  an  intention 
of  producing  some  extracts  from  his  letters  that  I 
brought  him  forward.  I  meant  to  have  prefaced  those 
extracts  by  some  remarks  on  the  value  of  the  epistolary 
correspondence  of  the  dark  ages;  but  in  this  point  I 
have  been  very  agreeably  anticipated  by  an  able  and 
extended  discussion  and  illustration  of  the  subject.  I 
take  it  for  granted,  that  all  who  may  trouble  them- 
selves to  read  what  I  write  will  be  acquainted  with  the 
article  to  which  I  refer  \  and  I  will  therefore  here  only 


1  In  the  recent  number  of  the  Quarterly  Review.     [That  is,  "  recent," 
in  July,  1837  ]— See  Note  E. 


NO.  XXIII.]  OF    THE    DARK    AGES.  383 

offer  one  remark  on  the  subject.  I  am  so  fully  con- 
vinced of  the  value  and  importance  of  the  immense 
number  of  middle-age  letters  which  are  still  in  exist- 
ence, and  of  their  not  having  been  yet  made  to  yield 
anything  like  all  the  very  interesting  materials  which 
they  contain  for  history,  that  it  has  appeared  to  me 
most  desirable  to  obtain  something  like  a  chronological 
arrangement  of  them.  The  full  value  of  such  a  thing 
cannot  be  estimated  until  it  is  done  ;  but  even  a  slight 
acquaintance  with  comparatively  few  of  them  is  suffi- 
cient to  persuade  me  that,  when  brought  together  by 
the  chronology  which  we  have,  one  of  the  first  effects 
would  be  a  correction  of  that  chronology  in  almost 
innumerable  instances. 

Beside  this,  letters  passing  at  a  certain  time  between 
A  and  B,  with  more  or  less  reference  to  the  events  of 
the  period,  being  thus  placed  beside  those  which  passed 
at  the  same  time  between  C  and  D,  and  half-a-dozen 
other  couples  of  correspondents  in  different  places,  who 
had  never  heard  of  A  and  B,  or  of  each  other, — these 
letters  having  no  common  tie  as  to  their  writers,  their 
locality,  or  their  professed  subjects,  and  now  suffered 
to  lie  in  a  wide  dispersion,  would,  if  collected  and 
arranged  in  order  of  time,  be  found  to  dove-tail  in  an 
infinite  variety  of  circumstances,  and  thus  throw  light 
on  facts  and  motives,  fix  dates,  identify  persons,  explain 
contradictions, — in  a  word,  illustrate  history  in  every 
way,  and  that,  perhaps,  to  a  greater  degree  than  we 
can  at  present  imagine,  or  could  by  any  other  means 
perform. 

"  I  wolde  wyshe,"  says  Bale,  "  som  learned  Inglish- 
man  (as  there  are  now  most  excellent  fresh  wyttes)  to 
set  forth  the  Inglish  Chronycles  in  their  right  shape,  as 
certein  other  landes  hath  done  afore  them  al  affections 
set  a-part.  I  cannot  think  a  more  necessary  thing  to 
be   laboured    to   the    honour   of   God,    Bewtv  of  the 


384  REPUBLICATION    OF  [NO.  XXIII. 

Realme,  Erudition  of  the  people,  and  commoditie  of 
other  landes,  next  the  sacred  scriptures  of  the  Byble, 
than  that  worke  wold  be  2." 

Of  the  truth  of  this  I  am  very  fully  convinced ;  and 
I  cannot  but  wish  to  see  something  effected  on  a  larger 
scale.  I  have  long,  and  often,  and  earnestly  thought, 
how  good  a  thing  it  would  be,  if  the  chronicles  which 
we  possess,  and  many  of  which  have  been  edited,  either 
separately  or  in  various  larger  or  smaller  collections, 
with  much  learning,  industry,  and  critical  skill, — which, 
nevertheless,  lie  so  wide  that  one  can  scarcely  hope  to 
see  them  all,  or  even  any  considerable  proportion  of 
them,  anywhere  but  in  a  public  library, — which,  even 
when  found,  require  him  who  would  collect,  and  com- 
pare, and  weigh  their  testimony  on  any  point,  to  cover 
something  less  than  an  acre  with  outspread  folios,  and 
wander  to  and  fro  among  them,  carrying  about  colla- 
tions in  his  head,  till  his  patience  and  his  shoes  are 
very  considerably  worn  in  the  business, — which,  on  this 
very  account,  have  never  yet,  I  believe,  been  fairly 
placed  side  by  side,  so  as  to  shew  the  full  extent  of 
reiteration,  concordance,  and  discrepancy,  and  to  reflect 
on  each  other  that  light  which  obscure,  and  even  unin- 
telligible passages,  often  do  throw  on  each  other;  if, 
I  say,  we  had  these,  which  are,  in  fact,  not  only  the 
sources  of  history,  but  all,  and  more  than  all,  the  real 
history  which  we  have,  brought  into  something  like 
what  theological  writers  call  a  "  Harmony,"  with  the 
letters  chronologically  arranged,  as  I  have  already  sug- 
gested, by  way  of  a  running  commentary,  I  really 
believe  that  we  might  very  easily  know  more  of  history 
than  anybody  has  ever  known  yet. 

It  would,  to  be  sure,  be  rather  a  large  work,  but  a 
very  noble  one  ;  and  then,  if  people  liked  to  write  what 

-  Brief  Chron.  of  Sir  J.  Oldcastle,  Har.  Misc.  ii.  237. 


NO.  XXIII.]  THE    SOURCES    OF    HISTORY.  385 

is  commonly  called  History,  they  would  know  where  to 
find  materials  on  their  own  terms,  (that  is,  without 
trouble,)  or,  if  they  still  preferred,  as  too  many  have 
done,  making  it  out  of  their  own  heads,  others  would 
know  where  to  find  an  antidote  to  their  misrepresenta- 
tions. I  do  not  think  that  Bale  has  stated  the  matter 
too  strongly,  and  I  really  doubt  whether  any  competent 
man  could  be  better  employed  (I  do  not  mean  merely 
for  the  cause  of  literature,  or  general  truth,  but  spe- 
cially for  the  cause  of  Christ's  church  on  earth,)  than  in 
thus  arranging  and  editing  the  records,  and  in  parti- 
cular the  letters,  of  the  dark  ages ;  and,  as  to  these 
latter,  I  heartily  wish  that  the  writer  who  has  shewn 
such  a  sense  of  their  value,  and  such  a  capability  for 
the  work,  would  undertake  it. 

It  is  very  pleasant  to  run  on  imagining  the  supply  of 
desiderata ;  but  perhaps  some  sedate  reader  may  have 
already  asked,  "  What  would  be  the  expense  of  such 
an  undertaking  ?"  I  am  sure  I  do  not  know  ;  but  I 
am  inclined  to  think  that  those  who  have  not  turned 
their  attention  to  the  subject  would  be  surprised  to  see 
in  how  small  a  compass  all  that  may  be  called  original 
histories,  or  sources  of  history,  would  lie.  Still  I 
acknowledge  that  it  would  be  rather  a  large  work ; 
and  if  it  be  asked,  "  Who  will  buy  it  ?"  I  feel  some 
hesitation  about  an  answer.  I  have  no  such  certaintv 
to  fall  back  upon  as  George  Stevens's  projector  had, 
when  he  proposed  to  pay  off  the  national  debt  by 
bottling  the  river  Thames,  and  selling  it  as  Spa- water: 
"  But  you  say,  '  Who'll  buy  it  ?'— Who'll  buy  it  ?  why, 
the  Waterman's  Company  must  buy  it,  or  what  will 
they  do  with  their  boats?"  There  is  no  chartered 
company  on  the  stream  of  history.  Any  speculator 
may  launch  his  barge  or  his  wherry;  he  may  take  in 
whatever  company  he  can  get  for  Richmond,  but  there 
is  nothing  beyond  their  own  sagacity  to  prevent  their 

c  c 


386  REPUBLICATION    OF    HISTORIANS.      [NO.  XXIII. 

being  floated  down  the  stream,  and  floundered  out  on 
the  Isle  of  Dogs,  and  there  left  to  make  the  best  of 
their  bargain ;  and  truly  (if  I  may  trust  the  popular 
opinion)  when  they  have  got  upon  their  legs,  and  settled 
to  their  own  satisfaction  whether  the  Tower  is  Somer- 
set-house or  Greenwich  Hospital,  they  may  feel  thank- 
ful that  matters  have  been  no  worse, — that  they  were 
not  run  down  by  some  dashing  steam-boat  or  cross- 
headed  lighter,  and  that  they  are  where  they  are,  to 
comfort  themselves  with  the  reflection  that,  for  all  the 
really  useful  purposes  of  air,  and  exercise,  and  pastime, 
it  does  just  as  well  as  if  they  had  gone  where  they 
thought  they  were  going.  This,  however,  by  the  way ; 
— it  being  only  a  little  reflection  suggested  by  the 
sudden  (and  to  myself  very  unexpected)  mention  of  the 
Waterman's  Company ; — it  is  my  hope  and  belief  that 
a  work  which  would  be  obviously  for  the  whole  world, 
and  which  must  maintain  an  undiminished  value  as  long 
as  the  world  lasts,  would  meet  with  support.  I  do  not 
say  that  any  particular  individual  or  body  must  buy  it ; 
but  I  cannot  help  very  thankfully  expressing  my  con- 
viction that  something  like  a  must  is  growing  up  among 
the  more  educated  classes,  who  (one  sees  proof  of  it 
every  day)  are  prying  into  the  original  sources  of  his- 
tory, both  secular  and  ecclesiastical,  and  who,  if  such  a 
scheme  were  proposed  by  capable  men,  would  feel  that 
they  must  support  it 3. 

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


NO.  XXIII.]  % BERNARD    AND    PETER.  387 

But  as  to  Bernard  and  Peter;  there  are  two  pas- 
sages in  this  letter  of  Peter  which  I  must  add  to  those 
already  given. 

"  After  this,  you  adduce  some  very  strange  and  unheard-of 
charges, — insomuch  that  we  hesitate  to  answer,  through  mere 
astonishment.  You  blame  us,  and  say  that  we  are  just  like 
secular  persons,  because  we  have  castles,  towns,  peasants, 
servants,  and  handmaids,  and  (worse  still)  revenues  arising 
from  tolls ;  and  we  accept  property  of  almost  every  such  kind 
without  distinction,  hold  it  unlawfully,  and  defend  it  by  all 
sorts  of  means  against  those  who  attack  it.  You  add,  that 
on  this  account,  laying  aside  our  monastic  character,  we 
assume  that  of  lawyers,  accuse  and  are  accused,  produce  wit- 
nesses from  our  own  body,  are  concerned  (contrary  to  the 
apostle's  injunction)  in  judicial  proceedings,  and  cannot  there- 
fore be  fit  for  the  kingdom  of  heaven. 

"  It  would  be  proper  for  you  who  make  these  charges  to 
substantiate  them  by  some  written  authority,  to  which  we 
must  yield,  and  not  let  them  rest  on  your  bare  assertion,  by 
which  we  are  not  greatly  moved.  For  thus  the  law  requires, 
that  he  who  accuses  any  one  should  prove  his  charge,  since 
the  burthen  of  proof  always  lies  on  the  accuser.  Neverthe- 
less, we  will  here  act  contrary  to  this  judicial  method  ;  and, 
sparing  you,  whom  wre  know  to  be  unable  to  prove  your  case, 
we  will  prove  our  own  in  the  following  manner  :  — 

u  We  know,  indeed,  that  '  the  earth  is  the  Lord's,  and  the 
fulness  thereof ;  the  world,  and  they  that  dwell  therein  ; '  but, 
beside  this,  we  read  elsewhere  in  the  same  Psalms,  ;  The 
heaven,  even  the  heavens,  are  the  Lord's ;  but  the  earth  hath 
he  given  to  the  children  of  men.'  It  is  plain,  then,  that  both 
the  heaven  and  the  earth  are  the  Lord's  ;  but  that  he  has 
given  the  earth  unto  men  for  a  time,  that,  if  they  use  it  well, 
they  may,    after   the   earth,    attain   unto   heaven  *,  and  that 


4  "  Post  terram  mererentur  et  cceluro,  et  quae  sua  erant  ex  potestate, 
hominum  fierent  ex  ipsius  benignitate."  I  believe  that  I  give  the  true 
sense  of  the  author,  that  is,  the  true  sense  of  mereor — as  commonly  used 
by  writers  of  the  dark  ages — which  is  (as  I  think  I  could  shew  by  a  good 
many  examples,  which  some  criticisms  that  I  have  seen  have  led  me  to 
notice,  but  which  it  would  be  out  of  place  here  to  transcribe,)  to  arrive  at, 

c  e  2 


388  PETER    THE    VENERABLE's  [NO.   XXITI. 

what  was  his  by  sovereign  power,  may  become  marfs  through 
his  benignity.  By  which  most  merciful  benignity  and  most 
benign  mercy,  though  he  '  hath  poised  with  three  fingers 
the  bulk  of  the  earth,  and  weighed  the  mountains  in  scales, 
and  the  hills  in  a  balance'' 5,  he  nevertheless  accepts  that 
same  earth,  and  those  earthly  gifts,  from  those  same  men  to 
whom  he  had  given  them,  and  (if  I  may  so  speak)  allows  the 
kingdom  of  heaven  to  be  bought  at  his  own  expense.  Nor 
does  he  thence  seek  profit  for  himself,  but  the  salvation  of 
man,  and  esteems  that  his  own  gain.  Hence  it  is,  that,  while 
he  orders  that  meat  should  be  given  to  the  hungry,  and  drink 
to  the  thirsty,  he  previously  creates  bread  in  the  corn,  wine 
in  the  grape,  and  loads  the  trees  with  fruit,  and  the  animals 
with  offspring.  The  very  water,  for  a  cup  of  which  given  to 
the  needy  he  has  declared  that  a  reward  is  laid  up,  he  makes 
to  rise  from  springs,  and  flow  through  all  the  rivers.  And, 
in  a  word,  all  the  things  with  regard  to  which  he  rewards  the 
goodwill  of  those  who  give  them,  he  does  himself,  first  of  all, 
give  to  those  givers.  Hence  the  church  of  God,  grounding 
its  right  as  well  on  the  Old  Testament  as  on  the  New, 
receives  all  things  that  are  offered,  not  to  her,  but  to  God,  as 
his  representative ;  and  thence  charitably  maintains  those  of 
her  members  who  are  in  want,  and  have  no  property  of  their 
own  in  the  world ;  as  clerks,  and  monks,  or  paupers,  or 
whomsoever  she  knows  to  suffer  the  need  of  such  things. 
Monks,  therefore,  (for  at  present  we  speak  of  them  only) 
receive  all  the  offerings  of  the  faithful,  whether  in  moveable 
or  immoveable  property  ;  and  repay  the  donors  by  a  perpe- 
tual course  of  prayer,  fasting,  and  good  works.  But  as  it  is 
respecting  the  acceptance  of  immoveable  property  that  we 
are  now  called  in  question,  I  will  at  present  answer  to  that 
point. 


or  obtain,  or  come  to  the  possession  of.  some  honour  or  benefit,  without 
reference  to  personal  desert,  or  what  a  protestant  would  understand  to  be 
referred  to  in  the  popish  doctrine  of  merit  Indeed,  whoever  understands 
Peter  as  affirming  that  none  but  those  who  have  merited  heaven  shall 
obtain  it,  must  understand  that  none  do  obtain  the  earth  until  they  have 
previously  merited  it  And  this  is,  in  fact,  true,  according  to  his  use  of 
the  word,  and  his  meaning. 

5  Douay  vers.   Isa.  xl.   12,  "Appeodit  tribus  digitis  molem  terra*." — 
Vulg. 


NO.  XXIII.]  DEFENCE    OF    CLCGNI.  389 

44  In  the  first  place,  then,  we  plead  our  Rule.  For,  in 
treating  of  the  reception  of  novices,  it  says — '  If  he  has  any 
property,  (res  si  quas  habet,)  let  him  either  first  give  it  to 
the  poor,  or,  by  a  solemn  act  of  donation,  confer  it  on  the 
monastery  V  By  saying,  4  if  he  has  any  property,1  it  excepts 
nothing ;  but  if  it  excepts  nothing,  it  does  not  except  any 
landed  property,  or  town,  or  peasants,  or  servants,  or  hand- 
maids, or  anything  of  that  kind.  But  clearly  nothing  is 
excepted,  and  therefore  it  is  obvious  that  these  things  which 
we  have  mentioned  are  not  excepted.  And  what  I  have 
before  quoted  from  St.  Gregory  agrees  with  the  command  of 
our  Rule ;  wherein  he  forbids  that  any  bishop  or  secular  per- 
son should  presume,  in  any  way,  or  on  any  occasion,  either 
by  fraud  or  force,  to  take  from  the  revenues,  or  property,  or 
muniments  of  monasteries,  or  of  cells,  or  towns  belonging  to 
them.  For,  by  forbidding  that  any  one  should  take  away  any 
of  these  things,  or  presume  to  employ  fraud  or  force  against 
them,  he  most  evidently  shews  that  monks  might  lawfully 
possess  revenues,  property,  cells,  and  towns ;  as  he  would,  by 
no  means,  have  forbidden  that  they  should  be  disturbed  in 
the  possession  of  those  things,  if  he  had  known  that  they 
held  them  unlawfully.  And,  since  the  revenues  arising  from 
land  are  of  different  kinds,  and  property  is  of  various  descrip- 
tions, and  since  there  cannot  be  towns  without  inhabitants, 
(that  is,  men  and  women,  of  different  conditions,)  and  the 
words  of  Gregory  contain  no  exception  with  regard  to  them, 
it  is  plainly  shewn  that  monks  may  rightly  possess  all  sorts 
of  revenues,  without  any  exception, — any  kind  of  property, 
any  towns  ;  and,  by  a  parity  of  reasoning,  any  inhabitants  of 
the  different  conditions,  that  is,  free  or  servile. 

44  But  you  will,  perhaps,  object,  that  without  the  help  of 
all  these  things,  monks  ought  to  provide  what  is  needful  for 
them,  by  agriculture,  and  the  labour  of  their  own  hands. 
I  think,  however,  that  no  one  can  fail  to  see  how  indecent 
and  impossible  this  would  be  ;  and,  in  the  first  place,  I  shall 
shew  that  it  is  impossible.  How  are  a  languid  set  of  men, 
confined  to  a  vegetable  diet,  that  imparts  scarcely  any  phy- 
sical strength,  and,  in  fact,  hardly  keeps  them  alive,  and  who 
are,  on  that  account,  in  a  state  of  great  debility,  to  endure 

Cap.  Iviii. 


390  PETER    THE    VENERABLE's  [NO.  XXIII. 

agricultural  labours,  which  are  found  most  oppressive  by 
hinds  and  peasants,  and  to  do  the  hard  work  of  ploughmen, 
exposed  sometimes  to  scorching  heat,  sometimes  to  rain, 
snow,  and  intense  cold  ?  And  how  are  they  who,  by  religious 
fasting,  commonly  diminish  even  their  poor  weakly  food,  to 
bear  such  hard  and  continual  labour?  And  if,  as  to  bodily 
strength,  they  could  bear  all  this,  why  should  they  do  it, 
when,  without  the  help  of  others,  they  can  obtain  sufficient 
food  and  clothing  I 

"  Having  shewn  that  it  is  impossible,  I  will  shew  that  it 
would  be  indecent.  Does  it  not  appear  indecent — yes,  most 
indecent — that  monks,  who  are  directed  always  to  keep  in  the 
cloister,  devoting  themselves  most  intensely  to  silence,  prayer, 
reading,  and  meditation,  and  the  other  precepts  of  the  rule  and 
services  of  the  church,  should  throw  up  all  these  things  for 
vulgar  and  rustic  labour  ?  that  those  who,  like  the  fine  linen 
of  the  tabernacle,  should  adorn  its  interior  by  their  value  and 
their  fine  texture,  (that  is,  by  the  subtle  contemplation  of 
heavenly  things)  should  like  hair-cloth  on  the  outside,  have 
to  bear  the  wind  and  rain,  and  all  the  storms, — that  is,  too 
great  occupation  in  worldly  affairs  drawing  them  away  from 
internal  things  ? 

"And  since  this,  as  I  have  said,  is  proved  to  be  both  in- 
decent and  impossible,  you  must  of  necessity  allow  monks 
some  other  means  of  maintaining  their  order  above  absolute 
want ;  and  indeed,  if  you  refuse  your  permission,  we  shall 
nevertheless,  relying  on  the  authority  of  the  saint,  continue 
our  practice.  You  have  just  heard  that  St.  Gregory  allowed 
these  things  to  monks ;  now  observe  that  he  gave  them ;  for 
thus  we  read  in  his  life : — ;  When  Gregory  came  to  have  the 
full  power  of  disposing  of  his  property,  he  built  six  monas- 
teries in  Sicily,  and  stocked  them  with  a  sufficient  number  of 
monks,  to  whom  he  gave  as  much  landed  property  as  might 
provide  a  daily  maintenance  to  those  who  were  there  serving 
God.'  And  of  St.  Maur  we  read : — '  The  next  day  St.  Maur 
went  to  see  and  take  possession  of  the  royal  estate  which  the 
king  had  given  to  the  monastery .,  And  again — '  At  the  same 
time,  Lothaire,  coming  to  Angers,  sent  word  to  the  man  of 
God  that  he  wished  to  come  to  the  monastery.  And  when 
the  man  of  God  returned  an  answer  that  he  might  come,  he 
set  out  with  a  few  attendants.     And  when  he  had  come  there, 


NO.   XXIII.]  DEFENCE    OF    CLLGNI.  391 

he  gave  to  that  place  an  estate  belonging  to  the  royal  pro- 
perty, called  Blazon ;  and  there,  also,  by  royal  authority,  he 
gave  the  town  called  Longus-campus."*  We  find,  too,  that 
almost  all  the  things  which  you  think  that  monks  ought  not 
to  have,  were  possessed  by  St.  Columban  and  many  other 
holy  monks,  whose  merits  God  attested  by  many  and  great 
miracles,  and  whom  the  church  solemnly  commemorates. 

"  And  now,  to  add  another  argument  to  what  we  have 
premised — who  will  not  think  it  more  right,  more  expedient, 
more  useful,  that  every  one  of  those  various  things  which 
have  been  specified  should  be  in  the  hands  of  those  whom 
the  Order  which  they  have  assumed,  and  the  monastic  vow 
which  they  have  made,  bind  to  a  lawful  use  and  possession  of 
them,  than  of  those  who,  through  negligence,  and  being 
under  the  influence  of  less  strict  obligation,  not  merely 
despise  the  trouble  of  good  management,  but  also  from  an 
undue  love  of  the  things  themselves,  and  by  ill  management 
of  them,  bring  on  their  own  destruction?  For  as  we  see 
commonly,  and  in  almost  every  case,  as  long  as  they  are  held 
by  secular  persons,  they  are  dealt  with  in  a  secular  manner ; 
but  when  the  property  in  them  is  transferred  to  the  religious 
(if  they  are  such,  not  in  name  only,  but  in  fact,)  then  by  the 
religious  they  will  be  religiously  dealt  with.  And,  for  in- 
stance, let  me  specify  some  things : — Suppose  a  castle  is 
given  to  monks,  it  immediately  ceases  to  be  a  castle,  and 
becomes  an  oratory ;  nor  does  any  one  after  that  fight  against 
corporeal  enemies,  in  a  corporeal  army,  but  is  employed  in 
repelling  spiritual  enemies,  by  spiritual  weapons.  And  thus 
it  comes  to  pass,  that  what  was  before  fighting  for  the  devil, 
now  begins  to  fight  for  Christ ;  and  what  was  before  a  den  of 
thieves,  is  made  a  house  of  prayer. 

"  The  same  argument  may  be  used  as  to  peasants,  ser- 
vants, and  handmaids  ;  and  by  it  we  may  most  excellently 
prove  that  monks  have  a  legitimate  right  to  possess  them. 
For  everybody  sees  how  secular  masters  rule  over  their  pea- 
sants, servants,  and  handmaids  ;  for  they  are  not  satisfied 
with  their  accustomed  and  due  service,  but  always  unmerci- 
fully claim  their  persons  with  their  property,  and  their  pro- 
perty with  their  persons.  Hence  it  is,  that,  beside  the 
accustomed  payments,  they  three  or  four  times  in  the  year, 


392  PETER    THE    VENERABLE'S  [NO.  XXIII. 

or  as  often  as  they  please,  spoil  them  of  their  goods  ;  they 
oppress  them  with  innumerable  claims  of  service  ;  they  lay 
upon  them  grievous  and  insupportable  burthens.  Hence 
they  force  many  to  leave  their  native  soil  and  fly  to 
foreign  parts,  and  (what  is  worse)  their  very  persons, 
which  Christ  hath  redeemed  with  so  rich  a  price — even 
his  own  blood — they  are  not  afraid  to  sell  for  one  so  mean, 
that  is,  for  money.  Now,  monks,  though  they  may  have 
such  possessions,  do  not  possess  them  in  the  same  way,  but 
very  differently ;  for  they  employ  only  the  lawful  and  due 
services  of  the  peasants  to  procure  the  conveniences  of  life. 
They  harass  them  with  no  exactions,  they  impose  no  into- 
lerable burthens,  and  if  they  see  them  in  want,  they  main- 
tain them  at  their  own  expense.  They  have  servants  and 
handmaids,  not  as  servants  and  handmaids,  but  as  brothers 
and  sisters ;  and,  receiving  from  them  reasonable  service 
according  to  their  ability,  take  care  in  return  that  they  shall 
suffer  no  want  or  injury  ;  so  that  they  are  (to  use  the  words 
of  the  apostle)  as  having  nothing,  yet  possessing  all  things. 
By  the  authorities  and  arguments  which  I  have  adduced, 
therefore,  it  is,  I  think,  clear,  even  to  the  blind,  that  monks 
may  not  only  lawfully  possess  such  things,  but  even  more 
lawfully  than  laymen. 

"  And  why  are  we  to  be  prohibited  from  receiving  the  pro- 
ceeds of  tolls,  when  it  is  acknowledged  that  the  princes  of 
this  world  hold  them  lawfully  ?  Or,  is  it  thought  unlawful 
for  them  to  possess  what  the  apostle  directs  their  subjects  to 
pay  to  them — 4  tribute  to  whom  tribute,  custom  to  whom 
custom  1 1  Truly  we  consider  that  to  be  lawful  which  is  done 
all  over  the  world  without  reproof  from  the  church  of  God, 
which  passes  by  no  unrighteousness  :  nobody  is  excommuni- 
cated, nobody  is  even  called  in  question  for  it.  And  since, 
without  the  contradiction  of  any  one  they  receive  them  as 
they  do  their  other  rights,  why  may  they  not,  in  like  manner, 
give  them  to  churches  and  monasteries  of  God  \  Why 
may  not  monks  rightly  receive  these  from  them  as  well  as 
other  things?  If  you  object  that  St.  Matthew,  being  called 
by  the  Lord  from  the  receipt  of  custom,  did  not  afterwards 
return  to  it,  as  an  unrighteous  calling,  while  Peter  and  the 
other  apostles,  who  were  fishermen,  after  being  in  like  man- 


NO.  XXIII.]  DEFENCE    OF    CLUGNI.  393 

ner  called,  were  found  afterwards  fishing,  whereby  they 
proved  the  lawfulness  of  that  occupation,  we  reply  that  this 
does  not  in  any  way  help  your  argument,  or  weaken  ours,  for 
we  are  not  defending  violent  exactions,  such  as  Matthew 
relinquished,  but  just,  customary,  payments,  which  the  church 
receives." 

There  are  several  reasons,  which  will,  I  hope,  be 
apparent,  for  my  quoting  this  passage  ;  but  one  of  them 
is  so  important  that  I  cannot  help  distinctly  calling 
attention  to  it.  It  gives  us  a  glimpse  of  one  of  those 
features  of  the  dark  ages  which  are  the  least  known, 
and  by  many  most  reluctantly  acknowledged.  It  goes  to 
shew  that,  at  the  darkest  periods,  the  Christian  church 
was  the  source  and  spring  of  civilization,  the  dispenser 
of  what  little  comfort  and  security  there  was  in  the 
things  of  this  world,  and  the  quiet  scriptural  asserter 
of  the  rights  of  man.  Whether,  strictly  speaking,  the 
monks  of  the  order  of  St.  Benedict  had  a  right  to  dis- 
pense with  manual  labour,  I  very  much  doubt,  notwith- 
standing the  abbot  Peter's  defence  of  them,  which  I 
quote  principally  to  shew  that  he  was  not  quite  the 
person  that  he  has  been  represented  to  be ;  but  it  was, 
and  we  ought  gratefully  to  acknowledge  that  it  is,  a 
most  happy  thing  for  the  world  that  they  did  not  con- 
fine themselves  to  the  possession  of  such  small  estates 
as  they  could  cultivate  with  their  own  hands. 

Without  at  present  entering  into  a  subject  which  is 
extremely  interesting,  and  for  the  illustration  of  which 
materials  are  very  abundant,  I  may  just  observe  that 
the  extraordinary  benefit  which  they  conferred  on 
society  by  colonizing  waste  places — places  chosen  be- 
cause they  were  waste  and  solitary,  and  such  as  could 
be  reclaimed  only  by  the  incessant  labour  of  those  who 
were  willing  to  work  hard  and  live  hard — lands  often 
given   because    they  were   not   worth    keeping — lands 


394  ECCLESIASTICAL    LANDLORDS         [NO.  XXIII. 

which,  for  a  long  while,  left  their  cultivators  half 
starved,  and  dependent  on  the  charity  of  those  who 
admired  what  wre  must  too  often  call  a  fanatical  zeal — 
even  the  extraordinary  benefit,  I  say,  which  they  con- 
ferred on  mankind  by  thus  clearing  and  cultivating,  was 
small  in  comparison  with  the  advantages  derived  from 
them  by  society,  after  they  had  become  large  pro- 
prietors, landlords  with  more  benevolence,  and  farmers 
with  more  intelligence  and  capital,  than  any  others. 

One  thing,  however,  is  worthy  of  notice,  as  shewing 
that  one  eccentricity  (I  do  not  like  to  call  it  a  fault,  or 
even  a  folly,  though  it  seems  likely  to  be  punished  as 
a  sin,)  of  the  church  is  not  peculiar  to  modern  times, 
but  at  least  as  old  as  the  beginning  of  the  twelfth  cen- 
tury,— namely,  that  these  ecclesiastical  landlords  did 
not  make  so  much  of  their  property  as  they  might 
have  done,  or  as  would  have  been  made  of  it  by  the 
unprincipled  and  tyrannical  laymen  by  whom  they  were 
surrounded,  and  too  frequently  robbed.  I  think  we 
may  infer,  from  Peter's  way  of  alluding  to  their  mode 
of  dealing  with  their  tenants,  and  those  serfs  over 
whom  the  law  gave  them  so  great  a  power,  that  though, 
in  one  sense,  very  careful  of  their  property,  they  were 
not  careful,  or  had  not  the  wisdom,  to  make  the  most 
of  it.  I  do  not  remember  to  have  seen  it  assigned  as 
a  reason  for  taking  away  their  property,  but  then  (as 
philosophical  historians  say)  we  must  consider  the  spirit 
of  the  age.  The  conservative  power  which  offered  the 
only  opposition  to  brute  force  in  those  days  was  an  odd 
compound  of  elements.  Beside  some  codes  of  laws, 
more  or  less  comprehensive,  and  extending,  with  more 
or  less  influence,  over  larger  or  smaller  districts,  they 
had  the  Bible,  and  what  was,  or  came  to  be,  the  Canon 
law,  and  the  testimony  of  history,  a  great  deal  of  super- 
stition, perhaps  some  religion,  and  certainly  some  (if 


NO.  XXIII.]  IN    THE    DARK    AGES.  395 

but  little)  common  sense  and  conscience,  all  and  each 
of  which  would  have  been  separately  outraged  by  such 
a  pretext ;  and  they  were  so  blended  together,  that 
barefaced  and  comparatively  honest  spoliation  found  it 
necessary  to  cut  the  knot  with  brute  force.  It  was  not 
merely  that  fire  and  sword  did  the  work  more  speedily 
and  effectually,  but  men  really  had  not  learned  how  to 
meet  the  spirit  of  the  age,  as  (could  it  be  revived)  it 
would  now  be  met.  People  had  not  then  learned  that 
"  the  lands  of  the  church,  destined  for  the  support  of 
public  servants,  exhibited  none  of  the  characters  of 
property.  They  were  inalienable,  because  it  would 
have  been  not  less  absurd  for  the  priesthood  to  have 
exercised  such  authority  over  these  lands,  than  it  would 
be  for  seamen  to  claim  the  property  of  a  fleet  which 
they  manned,  or  soldiers  that  of  a  fortress  they  gar- 
risoned 7."  This  is  a  recent  discovery  ;  and  indeed  the 
illustration  would  not  have  held  good  in  the  dark  ages, 
when  soldiers  and  sailors  received  pay. 

I  must,  however,  add  another  extract  from  this  letter 
of  Peter's,  concerning  his  Rule,  not  merely  to  shew  that 
he  did  not  place  all  his  religion  in  the  punctilios  and 
pharisaical  observance  of  it,  but  as  throwing  light  on  the 
state  and  spirit  of  monastic  institutions  in  his  time,  as 
well  as  the  opinions  of  men  concerning  them. 

u  You  have  said,  '  St.  Benedict  framed  his  Kule  either  with 
or  without  charity.  But  that  he  framed  it  without  charity 
none  of  you  will  dare  to  affirm,  and  therefore  you  do  not 
deny  that  he  framed  it  with  charity.  Now,  since  the  Rule 
was  framed  by  charity,  it  was  not  meant  to  be  altered ;  and  if 


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


396  PETER    THE    VENERABLE  [NO.  XXIII. 

not  to  be  altered,  then  to  be  kept.  Therefore  you  either  act 
injuriously  towards  the  saint  by  changing  it,  or  you  keep  it 
by  entire  obedience.'  And  to  this  we  reply — '  It  is  clear 
that  the  rule  was  framed  by  charity,  but  it  is  not  clear  that 
on  that  account  it  is  unalterable  ;  nay,  from  its  having  been 
framed  by  charity,  it  follows  that  it  may  be  altered.  And  to 
make  this  evident,  let  us  inquire  into  what  is  the  office  of 
charity.  And  what  is  the  office  of  charity  ?  The  one  and 
single  office  of  charity  is  to  seek  the  salvation  of  men  by  all 
means.  Our  Lord  himself,  the  apostles,  all  the  saints,  cry 
aloud  that  this  is  its  office.  All  holy  scripture,  as  I  have 
already  repeatedly  said,  testifies  that  whatsoever  it  commands 
is  just ;  and  (what  is  a  still  greater  argument)  the  Lord  has 
declared  that  on  it  hang  all  the  law  and  the  prophets.  This 
the  apostle  calls  the  fulfilling  of  the  law,  and  the  end  of  the 
commandment.  Of  this  St.  Augustine  says,  l  If  this  one 
thing  be  wanting,  all  things  are  vain  ;  if  this  only  be  present, 
all  are  complete.1  Of  this,  too,  he  says  elsewhere,  '  But  the 
whole  fruit  is  charity,  without  which,  whatever  else  a  man 
may  have,  he  is  nothing.1  And  in  another  place,  '  Have 
charity,  and  do  what  ye  will.1  And  therefore,  to  promote 
the  salvation  of  men,  it  doth  what  it  will ;  and  if  it  be  lawful 
for  it  to  do  as  it  will,  it  was  lawful  for  it  to  make  a  law,  and 
lawful  also  to  change  it.  Nor  can  it  be  said  that  any  injury 
is  done  to  the  saint,  for  it  is  not  altered  by  another ;  but  by 
that  which,  being  shed  abroad  in  his  heart  by  the  Holy  Spirit 
given  to  him,  used  him  as  an  instrument  for  the  composition 
of  that  Rule.  And  since  it  envieth  not,  is  not  puffed  up, 
doth  not  behave  itself  unseemly,  seeketh  not  her  own,  those 
who  are  filled  therewith  know  nothing  of  such  things ;  and, 
being  without  envy,  inflation,  and  ambition,  they  know  not 
how  to  take  offence.  No  injury,  then,  is  done  to  the  saint, 
for  it  made  his  Rule  according  to  the  circumstances  of  that 
time,  and  when  it  saw  it  would  be  useful  so  to  do,  altered 
what  it  had  itself  made,  retaining  whatever  it  seemed  proper 
to  retain.  And  as  it  would  be  absurd  to  say  that  an  injury 
was  done  to  a  notary,  if  he  who  dictated  any  document  to 
him  should  choose  afterwards,  for  some  reason  known  per- 
haps to  himself  only,  cither  by  his  own  or  another's  hand,  to 
alter  what  he  had  written,  so  it  would  be  to  say  that  St. 
Benedict  is   injuriously  treated,   if  Charity  cither  by  him,    if 


NO.  XXIII.]  AN    ANTIPAPAL    WITNESS.  397 

she  had  so  pleased,  or  by  any  other  whom  she  shall  see  fit  to 
employ,  should,  on  sufficient  grounds,  alter  all  or  any  of  the 
things  which  she  originally  wrote  by  him." 

Surely  such  language  is  sufficient  to  clear  the  abbot 
of  Clugni  from  the  charge  brought  against  him ;  is  it 
not  (to  say  the  least)  going  as  far  as  any  honest  friend 
of  expediency  would  venture  to  go  ?  But  though,  from 
finding  that  other  matter,  which  I  did  not  like  to  pass 
over,  has  taken  up  more  room  than  I  expected,  I  have 
hitherto  said  nothing  of  the  more  agreeable  part  of  his 
correspondence  with  Bernard  and  others,  yet  I  hope  to 
shew,  not  merely  for  his  sake,  but  for  the  illustration  of 
his  age,  that  he  truly  deserved  his  title  of  "  Venerable," 
by  the  promotion  of  religion  and  learning. 


I  suppose  that  when  I  wrote  this  paper,  I  did  not 
recollect  (for  I  had  been  obliged  to  do  so  much  with 
the  book  for  other  purposes,  that  I  think  I  must  have 
seen  it)  that  Peter  the  Venerable,  who  appears  in  Mil*- 
ner's  Church  History  as  "so  ignorant  and  so  trifling  a 
writer,"  that  he  seems  "  to  have  placed  the  essence  of 
Christianity  in  frivolous  punctilios  and  insignificant 
ceremonies,"  had  previously  figured,  and  was,  of  course, 
still  figuring  in  the  Catalogus  Testium  Veritatis  of 
Flacius  Illyricus,  as  one  of  the  witnesses  against  the 
Romish  Antichrist.  The  passage  which  I  have  now 
given  as  a  motto  to  this  paper  is  from  the  enlarged 
folio  edition  of  that  work  published  in  1G08.  In  the 
original  octavo  edition  of  1556,  the  passage  stands, 
"  Petrus  Cluniacensis,  abbas,  floruit  ante  400,  et  paulo 
amplius  annos.  In  ejus  epistolis  qusedam  ab  institute) 
nostro  haudquaquam  aliena  invenio,  quae  adseribam," 
&c.  As  one  object  of  these  papers  is  to  shew  how 
Church  History  has  been  written,  it  may  not  be  useless 
to  say  a  few  words  on  this  matter. 


398  PETER    THE    VENERABLE  [NO.  XXIII. 

Of  the  dispute  between  Bernard  and  Peter,  which 
has  occupied  so  many  of  these  pages,  Illyricus  professes 
to  have  known  but  little.  "  There  was  indeed,"  he 
says,  "  in  the  time  of  this  man,  a  very  great  contention 
between  the  Cluniacs  and  the  Cistercians,  during  the 
life  of  a  certain  abbot  of  theirs,  Bernard,  concerning 
some,  I  know  not  what,  tithes,  of  which  the  Cistercians 
wished  to  deprive  the  Cluniacs.  I  do  not  know  much 
about  the  controversy,  and  it  is  of  very  little  conse- 
quence for  our  purpose  to  understand  it  thoroughly." 
This  candid  admission  of  ignorance  is  not  retained  by 
M.  Simon  Goulart,  the  editor  of  the  folio  edition,  but 
I  believe  that  he  gives  all  the  extracts  from  Peter's 
works  which  were  in  the  first  edition,  as  well  as  a  good 
many  more. 

I  will  beg  the  reader's  attention  to  one  extract, 
which,  with  its  comment,  appears  in  both  editions ;  and 
for  the  sake  of  that  I  will  set  before  him  the  whole  of 
Peter's  letter,  for  it  is  not  very  long.  I  will  mark  by 
brackets  that  part  which  is  extracted  by  Illyricus. 

"  To  the  supreme  Pontiff,  and  our  special  Father,  the  Lord 
Pope  Eugenius,  Brother  Peter  the  lowly  Abbot  of  the 
brethren  of  Clugni,  sends  devout  obedience  with  sincere 
affection. 

"  I  am  troublesome,  no  doubt,  in  writing  to  you  so  often ; 
but  I  am  afraid  that  continual  apologies  for  it  would  only 
make  me  still  more  troublesome.  What  shall  I  do  then? 
If  I  am  silent,  I  shall  injure  myself  and  many  others ;  and  if 
I  speak  I  shall  be,  as  1  have  said,  tiresome.  But  of  these 
alternatives  I  will  choose  the  latter.  I  had  rather  (saving 
the  reverence  due  to  your  paternal  character)  appear  loqua- 
cious or  officious  in  your  eyes  than  remain  silent  respecting 
many  things  which  ought  not  to  be  concealed  from  you. 
What  I  am  about  to  speak  of  is  not,  indeed,  my  own  busi- 
ness ;  yet  how  is  it  quite  alien  from  me,  if  it  is  in  anywise 
yours?  But  it  is  your  business  to  hear  the  causes  of  the 
whole  church  of  God  that  is  on  its  pilgrimage  in  this  vale  of 


NO.  XXIII.]  AX    AXTIPAPAL    WITNESS.  399 

tears,  when  heard  to  discuss  them,  and  when  discussed  to 
decide  with  apostolical  judgment.  And  although  your  high 
office  is  appointed  8  over  '  the  nations,  and  over  kingdoms  to 
root  up,  and  to  pull  down,  and  to  waste  and  to  destroy  and 
to  build  and  to  plant,  yet  as  you  are  not  God,  nor  Jeremiah  the 
Prophet  to  whom  this  was  addressed,  you  may  be  led  into 
error.  You  may  be  deceived  by  those  who  seek  their  own 
and  not  the  things  which  are  Jesus  Christ's.  That  this  may 
not  happen  it  is  the  duty  of  every  faithful  son  to  communi- 
cate to  his  father  what  he  knows,  and  you  perhaps  do  not 
know ;  and  to  take  all  such  measures  as  are  in  his  power  to 
prevent  those  of  whom  it  is  written  ■  the  poison  of  asps  is 
under  their  lips'  from  infecting  your  purity  with  their  poison. 
For  it  is  no  small  gift  of  God  to  be  delivered  from  such ; 
especially  when  the  well-known  Psalm  says,  '  O  Lord,  deliver 
my  soul  from  wicked  lips  and  a  deceitful  tongue  V  But  how 
is  this — perhaps  I  am  again  running  on  too  much,  still  guilty 
of  the  very  fault  for  which  I  have  just  apologised.  I  restrain 
my  pen  therefore ;  and  when  I  wish,  and  think  I  ought,  to 
say  a  great  deal,  I  will  briefly  state  the  point  at  which  this 
introduction  aims.  For  there  is  one  point  in  particular,  though 
it  is  not  the  only  one.  This  I  will  now  state,  and  reserve 
the  others  for  their  proper  time. 

u  How  much  I  have  loved,  and  do  love,  the  regulations  of 
the  Carthusian  Order  and  system,  how  I  reverence,  how  I 
embrace  them,  many  know ;  but  I  more,  God  most  of  all. 
For  if  my  own  soul  does  not  deceive  me,  if  my  conscience 
bears  witness  to  me  of  the  truth,  if  in  fact  the  divine  word  is 
true,  which  says,  *  No  man  knoweth  the  things  of  a  man  save 
the  spirit  of  a  man  that  is  in  him,"'  I  confess  that  for  now  nearly 
thirty  years,  that  is,  even  from  before  the  time  when  I  became 
Abbot,  I  have  loved  the  Order,  revered  the  sincerity,  embraced 
the  truth  of  the  Carthusians,  more  than  almost  all  other  mor- 
tals. [I  thought,  and  I  do  not  believe  I  was  wrong,  that  their's 
was  the  best  of  all  the  Latin  systems ;  and  that  they  were  not 
of  those  who  strain  at  the  gnat  and  swallow  the  camel ;  that 
is,  who  make  void  the  commandment  of  God  for  the  tradi- 
tions of  men ;  and,  tithing  mint,  and  anise,  and  cummin,  and 


3  This  is,  I  believe,  the  true  rendering  of  "  Et  licet  persona  vestra  con- 
stituta  sit."  9  Ps.  cxx.  2. 


400  PETER    THE    VENERABLE  [NO.  XXIII. 

(according  to  one  evangelist)  every  herb,  neglect  the  weightier 
matters  of  the  law,  judgment,  mercy,  and  faith.  For  they  do 
not  consider  the  kingdom  of  God  as  consisting  principally  in 
meats  and  drinks,  in  garments,  in  labours,  and  the  like, 
though  these,  wisely-managed,  may  do  that  kingdom  of 
God  good  service ;  but  in  that  godliness  of  which  the 
apostle  says,  '  Bodily  exercise  is  profitable  to  little,  but 
godliness  is  profitable  to  all  things,  having  promise  of 
the  life  that  now  is,  and  of  that  wrhich  is  to  come  V] — 
Those  truly  holy  men  feast  at  the  table  of  wisdom,  they 
are  entertained  at  the  banquet  of  the  true  Solomon,  not  in 
superstitions,  not  in  hypocrisy,  not  in  vanities,  not  in  the 
leaven  of  malice  and  wickedness,  but  in  the  unleavened  bread 
of  sincerity  and  truth.  They  are  great,  therefore,  to  be  loved, 
to  be  embraced.  And  what  shall  I  say?  Against  my  will  I 
state  what  I  feel ;  forced  by  conviction,  I  say  what  I  would 
not.  I  seem  as  if  I  were  touching  the  ark  of  God,  and  as 
Uzzah  of  old,  when  the  oxen  were  unruly,  upholding  it 
with  a  presumptuous  hand.  But  I  am  not  presumptuous ;  I 
am  not,  as  concerning  this  matter,  worthy  of  death  as  he 
was ;  for  I  am  secured  by  His  words  who  has  said,  '  If  thine 
eye  be  single  thy  whole  body  shall  be  full  of  light.1  I  will 
speak  therefore  without  more  delay.  May  the  father  grant  a 
favourable  ear  to  the  words  of  his  son ;  and  not  suspect 
them  of  concealing  anything  crafty  or  deceitful ;  for  as  I 
remember,  in  a  letter  I  lately  addressed  to  your  highness 
(sublimitati  vestrw),  I  said  I  would  as  soon  die  as  tell  you  a 
falsehood 2.     In  the  matter  of  the  Grenoble  election  which  is 


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

2  This  refers  to  a  letter  in  defence  of  the  Archbishop  of  Vienne,  in 
which  he  bad  said,  "Novit  Pater,  ut  credo,  filii  cor:  novit  si  recordatur, 


NO.  XXIII.]  TO    POPE    EUGENIUS    III.  401 

still  agitated,  it  seems  to  me  that  a  sudden  whirlwind  has 
destroyed  the  serene  day  of  the  Carthusian  Order;  and  a 
little  cloud,  that  has  risen  up  I  know  not  whence,  has 
obscured  the  hitherto  crystalline  splendour.  It  is  divided 
against  itself,  and  the  holy  congregation,  which  up  to  this 
time  has  been  more  remarkably  than  others,  one  in  Christ,  is 
by  this  business  engaged  in  intestine  feud.  Hence  Char- 
treuse, Excubiae,  Durbonum,  hence  Porta?,  Majorevum,  Sylva, 
Alverium 3,  and  if  there  be  any  other  places  belonging  to  that 
sacred  order,  stand  as  diverse  walls ;  and  one  party,  as  well 
as  the  other,  profess  according  to  the  Prophet  to  go  up  c  for 
the  house  of  Israel  to  stand  in  battle  for  the  day  of  the  Lord/ 
One  party  says,  that  the  person  elected  ought  not  to  be  a 
bishop ;  and  puts  forth  certain  reasons  which  it  is  not  my 
place  to  repeat.  On  the  contrary  others  say — '  What  is  that 
to  you  \  It  is  a  rule  of  the  Carthusian  Order  to  give  inform- 
ation of  anything  wrong  which  it  may  happen  to  know,  to 
those  whom  it  concerns ;  but  not  to  be  litigious.  Their  part 
is  to  state  what  they  think  in  simplicity,  but  not  to  get  into 
palaces  to  gossip.  It  does  not  belong  to  our  wild  solitude 
that  we  should  be  attending  courts  of  justice ;  it  is  not  the 
business  of  those  who  are  dead  to  the  world  to  be  plaintiffs 
and  defendants  in  public  business.  Our  simplicity  has 
nothing  to  do  with  worldly  craft ;  nor  is  it  becoming  that  we 
who,  while  we  were  in  the  world,  chose  the  desert,  should 
now  return  from  the  desert  to  the  world.  But  if  it  is  not 
becoming  to  return  even  when  drawn  thither,  is  it  becoming 
to  thrust  ourselves  into  courts  of  justice  of  our  own  free  will, 
every  body  opposing,  every  body  protesting  against  it  V  This 
is  the  cause,  not  indeed  of  open  quarrel,  but  of  secret  grudge 
among  the  holy  men ;  which  would  be  better  known  to  our 
Father  if  I  could  speak,  as  well  as  write  to  your  majesty 
(majestati  vestrce).  For  there  are  some  things  which  I  do  not 
like  to  commit  to  writing ;  but  them,  as  I  did  not  think  fit 

quae  ei  Antisiodori,  vel  apud  Barum  secreto  suggessi;  quod  pene  idem 
esset,  quantum  in  libro  conscientiae  meae  legere  poteram,  vobis  mentiri 
quod  mori." — Lib.  VI.  Ep.  x.  Bib.  Clun.  col.  903. 

3  I  suppose  the  Pope  knew  what  all  these  places  were ;  but  as  I  do  not 
(except  Chartreuse  itself,  and  that  I  suppose  Portae  to  mean  Portes  Char- 
treuses some  leagues  to  the  n.n.w.  of  that  place)  I  do  not  attempt  a  trans- 
lation. 

Dd 


402  SECRETARY    NICHOLAS.  [NO.  XXIV. 

to  write  them,  I  have  placed  in  the  mouth  of  our  beloved 
brother  and  your  son  Arnald,  that  they  may  be  imparted 
to  you." 

Is  it  not  really  strange,  that  at  a  distance  of  seven 
hundred  years  one  should  be  occupied  in  refuting  two 
such  opposite  statements,  against  a  man  well  known 
in  his  day,  and  whose  works  are  still  extant  and 
accessible  to  all  moderately-educated  persons?  Was 
the  person  who  was  thus  writing  to  the  Pope  a  heart- 
less formalist,  or  a  witness  against  the  Romish  Anti- 
christ ?     Or  was  he  neither  ?  and  what  was  he  ? 


No.  XXIV. 

44  Scriptores  recta  linea 

Veraces  scribant  literas, 
Distinctiones  proprias 
Usque  in  finem  compleant." 

Petrus  Damiani. 

Considering  that  he  appears  to  have  felt  no  reluct- 
ance to  speak  on  the  subject,  I  wish  that  the  Secretary 
Nicholas  had  given  us  a  fuller  account  of  himself;  and, 
indeed,  that  I  had  the  means  of  referring  to  all  that 
he  actually  did  write.  He  was,  I  imagine,  a  very 
extraordinary  person ;  and,  at  all  events,  he  had  very 
peculiar  opportunities  of  gaining,  not  only  all  the  learn- 
ing which  was  to  be  had  in  the  twelfth  century,  but  a 
vast  deal  of  information  which  would  be  most  curious 
and  interesting.  In  a  letter  to  Henry,  Count  of  Cham- 
pagne, written  about  the  year  1170,  he  says,  "From 
my  youth  I  have  pleased  great  men,  and  the  chief 
princes  of  this  world.  But  to  you  in  particular,  by 
right  of  dominion,  I  owe  all  that  I  am,  and,  by  duty 


NO.  XXIV.]  PETRUS    CELLENSIS.  403 

of  friendship,  all  that  I  can  *.  And  a  wise  man  has 
said, 

'  Principibus  placuisse  viris  non  ultima  laus  est2.'  " 

Indeed,  this  seems  to  have  been  the  case  in  an  extra- 
ordinary degree ;  for  though  strong  feeling  and  ardent 
expression  are  very  striking  features  in  the  letters  of 
the  Dark  Ages,  yet  I  know  of  no  man  whose  corre- 
spondents seem  to  have  loved  him  with  more  ardent 
affection.  One  of  those  friends  was  Peter,  Abbot  of 
Moutier-la-Celle,  by  Troves,  (a  monastery  which  I  have 
already  had  occasion  to  mention  at  p.  352,)  who  has  from 
that  circumstance  retained  the  name  of  "  Cellensis," 
though  he  afterwards  succeeded  our  countryman  John 
of  Salisbury  as  Bishop  of  Chartres,  and  a  specimen  may 
be  taken  from  one  of  his  letters : — 

"  Whenever  you  write,  your  letters  are  composed  with  an 
admirable  relish  to  meet  my  eager  appetite.  So  that  (to  say 
the  truth  to  a  true  friend)  it  seems  as  if  it  might  almost  be 
said  of  them  as  a  peculiar  characteristic,  '  They  that  eat  me, 
shall  yet  hunger;  and  they  that  drink  me,  shall  yet  thirst.' 
(Ecclus.  xxiv.  29.)     I,  however,  unskilful  as  I  am  as  to  style 


1  So  Mabillon  understands  him  to  mean  by  "  Tibi  singulariter,  ex 
dominio  natura?  debeo  quicquid  sum,  et  ex  officio  amicitia?  quicquid  pos- 
sum." 

2  Baluz.  Misc.  ii.  236.  It  may  seem  odd  to  find  Nicholas  quoting 
Horace  under  such  a  respectful  title,  especially  if  we  consider  that, 
according  to  the  customs  of  Clugny,  under  which  he  was  brought  up,  he 
could  never  have  asked  for  his  works  without  a  most  significant,  though 
somewhat  comic,  expression  of  contempt  for  the  author.  To  preserve 
silence,  the  monks  communicated  by  signs,  by  which  they  were  taught  to 
express  almost  everything  which  they  could  wish  to  say.  Of  course, 
there  was  sign  for  "  a  book."  "  Pro  generali  signo  libri,  extende  manum 
et  move  sicut  folium  libri  moveri  solet."  This  general  sign  being  made, 
another  was  added  to  distinguish  the  sort  of  book  wanted  ;  and  there  were 
distinct  signs  for  the  Missal,  the  Gospels,  the  Epistolary,  the  Psalter,  the 
Rule,  and  so  on ;  but  to  distinguish  a  book  written  by  a  heathen,  the 
monk  was  to  scratch  his  ear  like  a  dog.  "  Pro  signo  libri  ssecularis,  quern 
aliquis  paganus  fecit,  praemisso  generali  signo  libri,  adde  ut  aurem  tangas 
digito  sicut  canis  cum  pede  pruriens  solet,  quia  nee  immerito  infideles  tali 
animanti  comparantur." — Mart,  de  Antiq.  Man.  Rit.  885. 

i)  i\  '2 


404  Nicholas's  scriptoriolum.       [no.  xxiv. 

in  answering,  know  how  to  return  your  affection.  I  know 
whom  I  ought  to  love,  and  why,  and  how  much,  and  how 
long.  Whom,  if  not  the  servant  of  God ;  if  not  him  who 
loveth  righteousness  and  hateth  iniquity ;  if  not,  in  short, 
him  who  abideth  in  God,  and  God  in  him  ?  Why,  if  not 
because  he  is  a  fellow  servant,  and  a  brother,  and  one  for 
whom  Christ  suffered?  How  much,  if  not  as  much  as  the 
Son  of  God  hath  loved  me,  as  much  as  myself,  as  much  as 
the  hand  loves  the  eye  ?  How  long,  if  not  until  death,  if  not 
through  all  ages,  through  all  eternity,  and  beyond  it?  This 
is  the  common  feeling  of  those  who  seek  not  their  own,  but 
the  things  of  Jesus  Christ ;  and  who  being  filled  with  charity 
and  love,  lie  down  or  feed  at  noon  in  the  chambers,  or  in  the 
gardens  of  spices 3." 

This  was  Peter's  phrase  for  living  in  a  monastery ; 
but  it  is  more  to  our  purpose  to  state  how  Nicholas 
lived  in  his,  and  particularly  to  transcribe  his  sketch  of 
what  he  calls  his  Scriptoriolum,  or  little  writing-cell,  a 
retired  apartment,  shut  in  and  concealed  on  every  side 
by  the  various  parts  of  the  monastery: — 

"  Its  door  opens  into  the  apartment  of  the  novices,  where 
commonly  a  great  number  of  persons,  distinguished  by  rank 
as  well  as  by  literature,  put  on  the  new  man  in  newness  of 

life On  the  right,  the  cloister  of  the  monks  runs  off, 

in  which  the  more  advanced  part  of  the  community  walk  .  .  . 
.  .  .  There,  under  the  strictest  discipline,  they  individually 
open  the  books  of  divine  eloquence,  not  that  they  may 
winnow  forth  the  treasures  of  knowledge,  but  that  they  may 
elicit  love,  compunction,  and  devotion.  From  the  left  pro- 
jects the  infirmary,  and  the  place  of  exercise  (deambula- 
torium)  for  the  sick,  where  their  bodies,  wearied  and  weakened 
by  the  severities  of  the  rule,  are  refreshed  with  better  food ; 
until,  being  cured,  or  at  least  in  better  health,  they  may 
rejoin  the  congregation,  who  labour  and  pray,  who  do  violence 
to  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  and  take  it  by  force.  And  do 
not  suppose  that  my  little  tenement  is  to  be  despised ;  for 
it  is  a  place  to  be  desired,  and  pleasant  to  look  upon,  and 


'  Ej).  Lib.  iv.  ep.  iii.  ap.  Sirmondi  Op.  iii.  734. 


NO.  XXIV.]  MONASTIC    SCRIPTORIA.  405 

comfortable  for  retirement.  It  is  filled  with  most  choice  and 
divine  books,  at  the  delightful  view  of  which  I  feel  contempt 
for  the  vanity  of  this  world,  considering  that,  '  vanity  of  vani- 
ties, all  is  vanity/  and  that  nothing  is  more  vain  than  vanity 
itself.  This  place  is  assigned  to  me  for  reading,  and  writing, 
and  composing,  and  meditating,  and  praying,  and  adoring 
the  Lord  of  majesty." 

It  was  not  as  a  common  scribe  or  writing  monk  that 
Nicholas  occupied  this  apartment,  but  because  he  was 
my  lord  abbot's  secretary,  and  conducted  his  extensive 
and  important  correspondence,  of  which  I  hope  to  say 
more  presently ;  but  in  the  mean  time  I  am  irresistibly 
led  to  say  something*  about  the  scriptoria  of  monasteries 
in  the  Dark  Ages. 

I  am  inclined  to  suppose,  that  at  a  period  somewhat 
later  than  that  to  which  I  generally  refer,  the  writing 
performed  in  monasteries  was  carried  on  in  small  apart- 
ments or  cells,  which  could  not  (perhaps  at  all,  or  at 
any  rate  without  inconvenience,)  contain  more  than 
one  person ;  and  that,  owing  to  such  a  use  being  so 
generally  made  of  them, — that  is,  owing  to  the  great- 
quantity  of  writing,  the  number  of  hands  engaged  in 
it,  and  the  places  occupied  by  it, — owing,  in  short,  to 
its  beimj'  the  chief  and  almost  onlv  in-doors  business  of 
a  monk  out  of  church, — cells,  or  small  rooms,  or  even 
larger  apartments,  which  had  no  other  particular  name 
or  use,  were  commonly  called  scriptoria,  even  when  not 
actually  used,  or  particularly  intended,  for  the  purpose 
of  writing.  Thus  we  are  told  that  Arnold,  Abbot  of 
Villers,  in  Brabant,  from  a.d.  1240  to  1250,  when  he 
resigned  his  office,  occupied  a  scriptorium,  where  he 
lived  as  a  private  person  in  his  own  apartment. 

In  fact,  it  seems  to  have  been  a  custom,  principally 
and  perhaps  exclusively  in  the  Cistercian  order,  to  grant 
such  cells  as   a   privilege  to    certain   monks   for  their 


406  MONASTIC  [NO.  XXIV. 

private  study  or  amusement 4.  Jacobus,  a  successor  of 
Arnold,  who  became  abbot  in  the  year  1276,  made 
scriptoria  round  the  calefactory,  and  his  immediate  suc- 
cessor added  two,  adjoining  the  house  of  the  sacrist  \ 
The  former  was  the  better  place,  undoubtedly ;  as  the 
scribes  probably  obtained  some  benefit  from  the  apart- 
ment, which  was  heated  on  purpose  that  the  monks 
might  go  there  to  warm  themselves.  Many  a  scribe 
has,  I  dare  say,  felt  what  Lewis,  a  monk  of  Wessobrunn 
in  Bavaria,  records  as  his  own  experience  during  his 
sedentary  and  protracted  labours.  In  an  inscription 
appended  to  a  copy  of  Jerome's  commentary  on  Daniel, 
among  other  grounds  on  which  he  claims  the  sympathy 
and  the  prayers  of  the  reader,  he  says — 

"  Dum  scripsit  friguit,  et  quod  cum  lumine  solis 
Scribere  non  potuit,  perfecit  lumine  noctis  6." 

I  do  not  take  upon  me  to  say  that  these  cells  were 
warmed  by  hot  air  from  the  stove  in  the  calefactory, 
though  that  is  not  so  completely  a  modern  invention 
as  some  people  may  think.  The  monks  in  the  Dark 
Ages  were  not  quite  incapable  of  conceiving  and  exe- 
cuting such  an  idea;  and  it  is  not  going  out  of  our 
way  to  mention  a  proof,  which  has  a  moral  beauty,  far 
more  valuable  than  its  evidence  respecting  their  know- 
ledge and  ingenuity.  When  Bernard,  owing  to  the 
illness  produced  by  his  early  austerities,  was  compelled 
by  the  bishop  of  Chalons  to  retire  to  a  cell,  he  could 
not  be  persuaded  so  far  to  relax  the  severity  of  his 
asceticism  as  to  allow  any  fire,  or  even  fire-place,  in  it. 
His  friends,  with  pious  fraud,  (if  there  ever  was  such  a 

4  "Monachi  quibus  ad  studendum  vel  recreandum  scriptoria  conce- 
duntur,  in  ipsis  scriptoriis  non  maneant  illis  horis  quibus  monachi  in 
claustro  residere  tenentur,  &c." — Stat,  selecta  Cap.  Gen.  Ord.  Cisterc. 
a.d.  1278,  ap.  Mart.  iv.  1462. 

5  Mart.  iii.  1298. 

6  Pez,  Thes.  Anec.  Noviss.  Diss.  Isag.  in  torn.  i.  p.  20. 


NO.  XXIV.]  SCRIPTORIA.  407 

thing,)  contrived  to  heat  his  apartment  without  his 
knowing  it,  by  introducing  hot  air  through  the  stone 
floor  under  his  bed 7. 

But  the  Scriptorium  of  earlier  times  was  obviously 
an  apartment  capable  of  containing  many  persons ;  and 
in  which  many  persons  did,  in  fact,  work  together,  in 
a  very  business-like  manner,  at  the  transcription  of 
books.  The  first  of  these  points  is  implied  in  a  very 
curious  document,  which  is  one  of  the  very  few  extant 
specimens  of  French  Wisigothic  MS.  in  uncial  cha- 
racters, and  belongs  to  the  eighth  century.  It  is  a 
short  form  of  consecration,  or  benediction,  barbarously 
entitled,  "  Orationem  in  Scripturio,"  and  is  to  the 
following  effect — "  Vouchsafe,  O  Lord,  to  bless  this 
scriptorium  of  thy  servants,  and  all  that  dwell  therein ; 
that  whatsoever  sacred  writings  shall  be  here  read  or 
written  by  them,  they  may  receive  with  understanding, 
and  bring  the  same  to  good  effect,  through  our  Lord," 
&c.8 

That  the  scriptorium  was  larger  than  a  mere  cell,  is 
also  obvious  from  an  anecdote  of  the  ninth  century, 
which  is  very  well  worth  transcribing  on  many  accounts, 
though  I  confess  that  it  has  been  brought  to  my  mind 
on  this  occasion  by  what  has  just  been  said  of  the  scrip- 
torium and  calefactory  in  juxtaposition.  Ekkehard, 
junior,  the  historian  of  the  monastery  of  St.  Gall,  who 
wrote  in  the  earlier  half  of  the  eleventh  century,  after 
a  chapter  concerning  Solomon,  who  had  been  abbot  in 
the  latter  part  of  the  ninth  century, — another  chapter 
respecting  Magister  Iso,  a  monk  of  the  same  monas- 


7  Voy.  Lit.  p.  99. 

8  Xouv.  Tr.  de  Diplora.  hi.  190.  See  also  Du  Cange  in  v.  Scriptorium, 
and  the  supplement  in  v.  Scripturium  ;  why  the  authors  of  the  latter 
should  say  that  it  is  given  by  the  two  former  "  ipsismet  verbis  "  I  do  not 
know.  I  here  follow  Du  Cange's  text,  "  opere  perficiant,"  instead  of  the 
other,  "  ore  percipiant." 


408  NOTKER,    TUTILO,  [NO.  XXIV. 

tery,  and  a  "  doctor  nominatissimus,"  who  had  that 
Solomon,  together  with  Notker,  Tutilo,  Ratpert,  and 
some  others,  for  his  pupils, — and  further  telling  us  how 
the  latter  three  of  the  pupils  just  named  somewhat 
grudged  at  the  more  indulgent  treatment  which  Solo- 
mon received  from  their  master,  ('  delicatius  quasi 
canonicum  educaverat,' — a  monkish  hit)  and  how  this 
old  grudge  had  led  to  some  unpleasant  collisions  after 
Solomon  had  risen  to  be  Bishop  of  Constance,  while 
his  three  schoolfellows  remained  still  mere  monks  of 
St.  Gall's,  he  proceeds : — 

"  These  having  been  thoroughly  instructed  in  divine  things 
by  Iso,  became  (as  I  have  said)  scholars  of  Marcellus ;  who, 
being  equally  versed  in  sacred  and  secular  learning,  taught 
them  the  seven  liberal  arts,  but  especially  music,  which  being 
more  natural  than  the  rest,  and  though  more  difficult  in  the 
learning  yet  more  pleasant  in  the  use,  they  made  such  pro- 
gress therein  as  may  be  seen  by  their  respective  works,  of 
which  I  have  already  said  something.  But  these  three, 
though  of  one  heart,  were  yet,  as  sometimes  happens,  very 
different  persons. 

"  Notker  was  weak  in  body,  not  in  mind ;  and  in  speech, 
not  in  spirit,  a  stammerer.  In  spiritual  things  firm,  in  adver- 
sity patient,  mild  to  all,  a  aevere  disciplinarian,  timorous  in 
any  sudden  alarm,  except  of  demons,  whom  he  used  to  combat 
manfully.  In  ornamenting,  reading,  and  composing,  assiduous ; 
and,  briefly  to  comprehend  all  his  sacred  endowments,  he  was 
a  vessel  of  the  Holy  Spirit  not  less  eminently  than  any  one  of 
his  time. 

"  But  Tutilo  was  very  different.  He  was  a  good  and 
useful  man ;  as  to  his  arms  and  all  his  limbs,  such  as  Fabius 
teaches  us  to  choose  for  a  wrestler.  He  was  eloquent,  with 
a  fine  voice,  skilful  in  carving,  and  a  painter.  A  musician, 
like  his  companions ;  but  in  all  kinds  of  stringed  and  wind 
instruments  (for  in  a  place  appointed  by  the  abbot  he  taught 
the  children  of  the  nobility  to  play  on  stringed  instruments,) 
he  excelled  every  body.  In  building  and  in  his  other  arts  he 
was  eminent.  He  was,  by  nature,  powerful,  and  ready  at 
singing  in  either  language ;    cheerful,   whether  in  jest  or  in 


NO.  XXIV.]  RATPERT,    AND    SINDOLF.  409 

earnest ;  so  that  Charles  [the  Gross]  once  cursed  him  for 
making  a  monk  of  such  a  person.  But,  with  all  this,  what  is 
of  more  consequence,  he  was  powerful  in  the  choir,  and  in 
secret  given  to  tears,  very  skilful  in  making  verses  and 
melodies.  Chaste  as  a  disciple  of  Marcellus,  who  shut  his 
eyes  against  women. 

"  Ratpert  was,  however,  something  between  the  two  whom 
I  have  mentioned.  He  had  been  the  schoolmaster  from  his 
youth,  a  straightforward,  kind  teacher,  very  strict  in  disci- 
pline, more  rarely  than  any  of  his  brethren  putting  his  foot 
out  of  the  cloister,  and  making  one  pair  of  shoes  last  a  twelve- 
month. He  said  that  going  out  was  destruction  ;  and  fre- 
quently admonished  Tutilo,  who  was  given  to  travelling,  to 
mind  what  he  was  about.  Fully  occupied  in  the  schools,  he 
commonly  neglected  the  services  and  mass  ;  '  for,1  said  he, 
1  we  hear  good  masses  while  we  are  teaching  how  they  should 
be  performed.'  And  although  he  used  to  say  that  impunity 
was  the  greatest  disgrace  of  a  monastery,  yet  he  never  came 
to  the  chapter  unless  he  was  sent  for ;  because,  as  he  observed, 
that  most  painful  office  of  reproving  and  punishing  was  laid 
upon  him. 

"  Such  being  three  of  the  senators  of  our  republic,  they 
were,  as  happens  to  all  learned  and  useful  men,  exposed  to 
the  detraction  and  backbiting  of  the  idle  and  frivolous ;  and 
chiefly  the  holy  Notker  (as  I  may  truly  call  him,)  because  he 
took  less  pains  to  contradict  it.  Tutilo  and  Ratpert,  indeed, 
who  dealt  more  harshly  with  such  persons,  and  did  not  take 
injuries  so  patiently,  were  less  frequently  attacked ;  but 
Notker,  who  was  the  meekest  of  men,  learned  by  his  own 
experience  to  know  what  such  injuries  were ;  of  which  I 
wish  to  introduce  one,  that  you  may  learn  by  a  single  in- 
stance how  far  Satan  presumes  in  such  things. 

"  There  was  a  monk  named  Sindolf  who  was  the  Refec- 
torarius9;  but  at  length,  with  feigned  obsequiousness  (his 
only  merit)  telling  lies  of  the  brethren,  Solomon  made  him 
clerk  of  the  works  (decanus  operariorum).  While  he  was 
refectorary,  however,  he  made  himself  as  annoying  as  he 
dared,    particularly    to    Notker.      Solomon,    however,    being 

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


410  NOTKER,    TUTILO,  [NO.  XXIV. 

much  occupied,  and  unable  to  attend  to  everything,  when  it 
sometimes  happened  that  the  food  of  the  brethren  was  defi- 
cient or  bad,  many  exclaimed  against  the  injustice ;  and  it 
appeared  that,  among  others,  the  three  whom  I  have  men- 
tioned had  said  something. 

"  Sindolf,  who  was  always  making  mischief,  knowing  the 
cause  and  origin  of  the  old  grudge  on  the  part  of  these  com- 
panions, got  the  ear  of  Solomon,  as  if  he  was  going  to  inform 
him  of  something  in  which  his  honour  was  concerned ;  and 
he,  though  he  knew  that  nothing  is  more  mischievous  to 
bishops  than  listening  to  the  whispers  of  their  inferiors, 
inquired  what  news  he  had  to  communicate.  On  this  Sindolf 
falsely  told  him  that  those  three  were  always  talking  against 
him,  and  that  the  day  before  they  had  said  such  things  as 
must  be  intolerable  to  God.  He  believed  these  tales,  and 
bore  malice  against  those  who  thought  no  ill,  and  at  length 
he  shewed  it.  They,  however,  not  being  able  to  learn  from 
him  what  was  the  ground  of  offence,  guessed  that  they  had 
been  brought  into  it  by  some  trick  of  Sindolf.  The  matter 
being  at  length  discussed  among  the  brethren,  when  they, 
with  the  concurrent  testimony  of  all  the  rest,  proved  that 
they  had  said  nothing  against  the  bishop,  every  one  called  for 
justice  against  the  false  informer ;  but  as  the  bishop  would 
not  give  him  up,  they  silently  acquiesced. 

"  It  was  the  invariable  custom  of  these  three,  by  permission 
of  the  prior,  to  meet  in  the  night  in  the  interval  before  lauds  ' 
in  the  scriptorium,  and  to  discourse  together  on  such  scrip- 
tural subjects  as  were  most  suited  to  such  an  hour.  Sindolf, 
knowing  the  time  and  the  fact  of  these  conversations,  went 
out  one  night  and  came  privily  to  the  glass  window  against 
which  Tutilo  was  sitting,  and,  applying  his  ear  to  it,  listened 
to  catch  something  which  he  might  carry  in  a  perverted  form 
to  the  bishop.  Tutilo,  who  had  become  aware  of  it,  and  who 
was  a  sturdy  man,  with  full  confidence  in  the  strength  of  his 
arms,  spoke  to  his  companions  in  Latin,  that  Sindolf,  who 
did  not  understand  that  language,  might  not  know  what  he 
said.  '  There  he  is,1  said  he,  '  and  he  has  put  his  ear  to  the 
window ;  but  do  you,  Notker,  who  are  timorous,  go  out  into 


1  As  to  the  mode  of  spending  that   interval   required  by  the  rule  of 
St.  Benedict,  see  Martene  in  cap.  viii.  p.  249. 


NO.  XXIV.]  RATPERT,    AND    SINDOLF.  411 

the  church ;  and  you,  my  Ratpert,  catch  up  the  whip  of  the 
brethren  which  hangs  in  the  calefactory  2,  and  run  out ;  for 
when  I  know  that  you  have  got  near  to  him,  I  will  open  the 
window  as  suddenly  as  possible,  catch  him  by  the  hair,  drag 
in  his  head,  and  hold  it  tight ;  but  do  you,  my  friend,  be 
strong  and  of  a  good  courage,  and  lay  the  whip  on  him  with 
all  your  might,  and  take  vengeance  for  God  on  him.' 

"  Ratpert,  who  was  always  most  alert  in  matters  of  disci- 
pline, went  softly,  and  catching  up  the  whip  ran  quickly  out, 
and  came  down  with  all  his  might  like  a  hailstorm  on  the 
back  of  Sindolf,  whose  head  was  dragged  in  at  the  window. 
He,  however,  struggling  with  his  arms  and  legs,  contrived  to 
get  and  to  keep  hold  of  the  whip ;  on  which  Ratpert,  catch- 
ing up  a  stick  which  he  saw  at  hand,  laid  on  him  most  lustily. 
When  he  found  it  vain  to  beg  for  mercy,  4 1  must,1  said  he, 
1  cry  out ;'  and  he  roared  vociferously.  Part  of  the  monks, 
astounded  at  hearing  such  a  voice,  at  such  an  unwonted  time, 
came  running  with  lights,  and  asking  what  was  the  matter. 
Tutilo  kept  crying  out  that  he  had  caught  the  devil,  and 
begging  them  to  bring  a  light,  that  he  might  more  clearly 
see  whose  shape  he  had  assumed  ;  and  turning  the  head  of 
his  reluctant  prisoner  to  and  fro,  that  the  spectators  might 
the  better  judge,  he  asked  with  affected  ignorance  whether  it 
could  be  Sindolf?  All  declaring  that  it  certainly  was,  and 
begging  that  he  would  let  him  go,  he  released  him,  saying, 
4  Wretch  that  I  am,  that  I  should  have  laid  hands  on  the 
intimate  and  confidant  of  the  bishop  V  Ratpert,  however, 
having  stepped  aside  on  the  coming  up  of  the  monks,  pri- 
vately withdrew,  and  the  sufferer  could  not  find  out  who  had 
beaten  him 3." 

I  do  not  undertake  to  defend  all  Tutilo's  proceedings 
in  this  affair ;  especially  his  going  on  to  persuade  the 
monks  that  the  nagellator,  who  had  performed  so  stre- 
nuously, and  then  suddenly  vanished,  must  have  been 
an  angel.     Notker,  it  will  be  observed,  had  nothing  to 


1  Here  called  Pyrale.  He  afterwards  says  that  it  was  adjoining  to  the 
scriptorium,  "  proximum  pyrali  scriptorium,"  cap.  xi.  p.  52. 

3  Ekkehardus  Jun.  de  Casib.  Mon.  S.  Galli.  ap.  Gold.  Scr.  Rer.  Alem. 
i.  24.  et  Ekkardus  Minimus  in  vita  Notkeri,  ibid.  226. 


412  notker's  greek  epistles.       [no.  XXIV. 

do  with  the  business,  and  Ratpert  was  merely  executive 
in  the  way  of  his  calling ;  but,  without  canvassing  the 
matter  too  strictly,  I  am  content  to  feel  as  a  Swedish 
clergyman  did,  when  a  friend  of  mine,  who  happened  to 
have  been  present  at  the  service  in  his  church,  remon- 
strated against  what  appeared  to  him  to  be  a  prayer 
that  ships  might  be  wrecked  on  their  coast.  The  good 
priest  assured  him,  that  it  was  no  such  thing,  and  that 
they  were  not  such  wretches  as  to  harbour  any  wish  of 
the  kind  ;  but  only  prayed,  that  if  ships  were  to  be 
wrecked,  they  might  have  the  benefit  of  it.  In  like 
manner,  though  I  doubt  the  lawfulness  of  wishing  that 
any  Christian  man  should  either  give  or  take  such  a 
beating  as  Sindolf  received,  yet  if  somebody  was  to 
have  it,  I  am  glad  that  it  fell  to  his  share  ;  and  that  not 
so  much  for  his  dirty  tricks  which  have  been  just  men- 
tioned, as  for  a  villany  which  I  unaccountably  omitted 
to  notice  in  a  former  paper,  where  it  would  have  been 
more  in  place.  I  had  him  (that  is,  a  memorandum  of 
him,)  literally  pinned  down  to  my  desk  much  longer 
than  Tutilo  held  him  at  the  window,  but  somehow  he 
escaped.  What  do  you  think  he  did  ?  Why,  when 
Notker,  with  great  labour  and  pains  (multis  sudoribus), 
had  made  a  fair  copy  of  the  Canonical  Epistles  in 
Greek — having  borrowed  them  for  that  purpose  from 
Luitward,  Bishop  of  Vercelli — "  behold,  Sindolf,  now 
(as  I  have  said)  a  great  man,  and  of  much  consequence 
in  the  place,  [for  it  was  in  consideration  of  the  beating 
that  the  bishop  preferred  him  to  be  the  decanus  opera- 
rioru7n,~]  lighting  by  chance  on  that  delicately  written 
book,  carried  it  off,  and  having  cut  out  all  the  leaves, 
tore  and  spoiled  them,  as  is  to  be  seen  at  this  day,  and 
then  folded  them  up,  and  put  them  where  he  found 
them4."    What  do  you  think  of  that?  Would  a  second 


4  Ekk.  Jun.  ubi  sup.  p.  29- 


NO.  X XT V.]  THE    SCRIPTORIUM.  413 

edition  of  Ratpert's  performance  have  been  half  enough 
for  such  a  villany  ? 

The  scriptorium  where  these  three  friends  used  to 
meet  was  obviously  something  very  different  from  what 
we  now  call  a  cell,  or  what  is  now  sometimes  described 
or  shewn  as  a  writing-place  of  the  old  times.  And  I 
doubt  not,  that  the  twelve  expert  scribes,  to  whom,  as 
I  have  already  said  5,  the  Abbot  of  Hirschau  committed 
the  work  of  transcribing  the  Holy  Scriptures  and  the 
writings  of  the  fathers,  as  well  as  the  indefinite  number 
of  inferior  scribes,  worked  in  company.  Indeed,  if  we 
were  always  to  understand  that  the  scribe  was  sitting 
alone,  it  would  be  difficult  to  comprehend  the  direction 
of  the  general  chapter  of  the  Cistercian  Order  held  in 
a.d.  1134,  directing  that  the  same  silence  should  be 
maintained  in  the  scriptorium  as  in  the  cloister 6. 

The  same  thing  appears  from  the  Abbot  Heriman's 
account  of  the  restoration  of  the  monastery  of  St.  Mar- 
tin at  Tournay.  He  was  himself  the  third  abbot,  and 
he  tells  us  that  his  predecessor,  Odo,  who  was  the  first, 
and  entered  on  that  office  about  the  year  1093,  shewed 
himself  no  good  manager  in  temporal  things,  and  was 
glad  to  confide  the  management  of  them  to  Ralph  the 
Prior,  who  shewed  peculiar  talent  and  zeal  in  such 
matters  : — 

"  In  which  the  abbot  greatly  rejoiced,  and  used  to  thank 
God,  who  had  given  him  a  man  that  had  relieved  him  from 
the  anxiety  and  bustle  of  worldly  affairs.  For,  committing 
to  him  the  whole  charge  of  the  external  affairs  of  our  monas- 
tery, he  gave  himself  up  so  entirely  to  the  duties  of  a  monk, 
and  to  silence,  that  frequently  he  did  not  go  out  of  the 
monastery  for  a  month  together,  but,  being  devoted  to  read- 


■  No.  XIX.  p.  329. 

6  "  In  omnibus  scriptoriis  ubicunque  ex  consuetudine  Monachi  scri- 
bunt,  silentium  teneatur  sicut  in  Claustro." — Cap.  lxxxvii.  ap.  Nomast. 
Cisterc.  272. 


414  ALULFUS'S    GREGORIALIS.  [NO.  XXIV. 

ing,  he  took  the  utmost  pains  to  promote  the  writing  of 
books.  He  used,  in  fact,  to  exult  in  the  number  of  writers 
which  the  Lord  had  given  him ;  for  if  you  had  gone  into  the 
cloister,  you  might  in  general  have  seen  a  dozen  young 
monks  sitting  on  chairs  in  perfect  silence,  writing  at  tables 
carefully  and  artificially  constructed.  All  Jerome's  '  Com- 
mentaries on  the  Prophets,'  all  the  works  of  St.  Gregory,  and 
everything  that  he  could  find  of  St.  Augustine,  Ambrose, 
Isidore,  Bede,  and  the  Lord  Anselm,  then  Abbot  of  Bee,  and 
afterwards  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  he  caused  to  be  dili- 
gently transcribed.  So  that  you  would  scarcely  have  found 
such  a  library  at  any  monastery  in  that  part  of  the  country, 
and  everybody  was  begging  for  our  copies  to  correct  their 
own.  Our  monastery  was  at  that  time  in  great  reputation, 
and  in  a  high  state  of  discipline ;  for  in  the  whole  province 
of  Rheims  there  were  at  that  period  only  three  monasteries 
which  followed  the  customs  of  Clugni — namely,  Anchin, 
Afflighem,  and  our  own.  The  monastery  of  Clugni  at  that 
time  excelled  all  others  belonging  to  the  kingdom  of  the 
Francs  in  monastic  order ;  for  the  rigour  of  the  Cistercians 
had  not  then  sprung  up,  and  the  Lord  Norbert  had  not  as 
yet  been  heard  of7." 

I  do  not  wish  unnecessarily  to  multiply  instances  or 

7  Herimanni  Narratio  Rest.  Abb.  S.  Martini  Torn.  §  79-  ap.  Dach. 
Spicileg.  ii.  913.  One  of  the  original  companions  of  Odo  was  Godfrey, 
who  was,  says  Heriman,  "a  very  skilful  scribe,  and  left  many  manuscripts 
in  our  church— namely,  the  Morals  of  St.  Gregory  on  Job  in  six  volumes, 
an  excellent  history,  which,  beginning  at  the  Proverbs,  contains  the  pro- 
phets, the  Acts  of  the  Apostles,  and  the  Epistles,  a  missal  from  which  each 
mass  is  every  day  performed  in  the  convent,  a  copy  of  the  gospels,  Augus- 
tine on  the  City  of  God,  and  his  Enchiridion,  and  many  other  books 
which  may  be  easily  distinguished  as  his  by  the  handwriting,"  §  76,  p.  912. 
One  of  the  first  who  joined  Odo  was  Alulfus,  who  was,  during  forty- 
seven  years  afterwards,  the  armarius  or  librarian  of  the  convent.  "  He 
frequently  read  over  all  the  works  of  St.  Gregory  ;  and,  in  imitation  of 
Paterius,  extracting  all  the  passages  of  the  Old  and  New  Testament  which 
he  had  expounded,  he  made  three  volumes,  to  which  he  added  a  fourth,  con- 
sisting of  miscellaneous  and  very  useful  sentences,  and  entitled  the  whole 
work  Gregorialis."  §  38.  It  may  interest  the  reader  to  know,  that  seve- 
ral MSS.  of  this  period,  and  this  monastery,  and  in  all  probability  the 
identical  works  written  in  Odo's  scriptorium,  and  in  particular  the  fourth 
volume  (apparently  the  autograph)  of  Alulfus's  Gregorialis,  are  now  the 
property  of  my  learned  friend  Dr.  Todd,  of  Trinity  College,  Dublin. 


NO.  XXIV.]       HAND-WRITING    AND    THE    PRESS.  415 

illustrations  which  must  possess  a  sameness  of  character 
that  may  render  them  tedious ;  but  there  is  one  idea 
which  I  am  very  desirous  to  impress  on  the  reader. 
applying  generally  to  the  whole  subject. 

We  are,  on  the  one  hand,  familiar  with  the  press ; 
used  to  see  its  rapid  multiplication,  and  filled  with  the 
idea  of  its  almost  unlimited  powers — we  are,  on  the 
other,  but  little  accustomed  to  read  any  large  mass  of 
manuscript,  or  to  write  continuously  anything  which 
could  be  called  a  book — we  can,  moreover,  set  the 
press  in  motion  so  easily,  and  so  cheaply,  that  even  a 
third-rate  shopkeeper  who  is  advertising  simply  because 
he  has  nothing  to  do,  would  not  think  of  writing  a 
hundred  circular  letters — the  question,  how  much  an 
expert  scribe  could  write  in  a  given  time  is  so  seldom 
presented  to  our  thoughts,  that  we  feel  scarcely  able  to 
give  any  opinion — we  almost  lose  sight  of  the  fact,  that 
all  the  books  which  are  printed  have  been  written  (and, 
if  worth  printing,  more  than  once  written)  by  their 
authors — we  hardly  realize  the  idea  which  our  words 
express  when  we  say  that  an  author  "  wrote"  such  and 
such  works,  which  were  afterwards  published  in  so 
manv  volumes  folio — and  further,  though  it  would  not 
call  for  the  reading,  the  thinking,  the  correcting,  the 
rewriting,  or  any  of  the  intellectual  labour  which  not 
only  produced  the  most  fatigue,  but  took  up  the  most 
time,  yet  would  not  you  feel  rather  unwilling  to  under- 
take such  a  job  as  merely  writing  out  a  copy  of  Arch- 
bishop Ussher's  works,  or  Lord  Bacon's? 

Thus,  I  suspect*  we  are  apt  to  be  led  into  error  when 
we  think  we  are  comparing  the  respective  powers  of 
hand-writing  and  the  press.  Not  perhaps  into  theo- 
retical error,  for,  without  forming  anything  like  a  theory, 
we  may  say  at  once  that  the  things  are  not  to  he  com- 
pared at  all :  seeing  that  the  power  of  multiplication 
by  the  press  exceeds  that  of  the  slower  process  of  hand- 


416  HAND-WRITING   AND    THE    PRESS.       [NO.  XXIV. 

writing  out  of  all  proportion.  But  we  are  liable  to 
practical  error,  because  we  are  apt  not  to  consider  the 
different  degree  in  which  those  powers  are  put  out. 
The  press  does  a  great  deal,  and  it  might  do  a  great 
deal  more.  It  could  easily  as  far  outdo  its  present  self, 
as  it  now  outdoes  manuscription ;  but  it  has  never 
been,  and  most  likely  never  will  be,  called  on  to  do 
this ;  and  the  probability  (almost  certainty)  is,  that  in 
proportion  as  it  approximates  to  anything  like  it,  the 
works  which  it  produces  will  have  less  and  less  con- 
nexion with  learning.  I  believe  that  the  history  of 
printing  will  bear  me  out  in  this  ;  and  we  come,  I 
think,  fairly  to  the  idea  that,  although  the  power  of 
multiplication  at  work  in  the  Dark  Ages  was  infinitely 
below  that  which  now  exists,  and  even  the  whole  actual 
produce  of  the  two  periods  not  to  be  compared,  yet,  as 
it  regards  those  books  which  were  considered  as  the 
standard  works  in  sacred  and  secular  literature,  the 
difference  was  not  so  extreme  as  may  have  been  sup- 
posed. Perhaps  I  may  illustrate  my  meaning  by 
asking  what  proportion  the  copies  of  Gregory's 
"  Morals,"  or  Augustine's  "  City  of  God,"  printed 
between  the  years  1700  and  1800,  bear  to  those 
written  between  the  years  1100  and  1200. 

But,  as  I  have  said,  we  have  perhaps  a  very  imper- 
fect idea  of  what  may  be  done  by  the  labour  of  an  in- 
dividual. We  must  think  of  writing  as  a  business ;  as 
one  generally  taken  up  by  choice,  and  very  commonly 
pursued  with  a  degree  of  zeal  and  indefatigable  perse- 
verance, which  in  the  present  day  seems  almost  incre- 
dible. We  find  notices  on  the  subject,  which  appear 
to  me  very  interesting ;  and  the  point  is  so  important 
to  our  getting  a  clear  idea  of  the  matter  which  is  now 
in  hand,  that  I  will  mention  two. 

Othlonus,  a  monk  of  St.  Emmeram's,  at  Ratisbon, 
was  born  about  the  year  1013;  and  in  his  book,  "Do 


NO.  XXIV.]  OTHLOXUS,    A    WRITER.  417 

ipsius  tentationibus,  varia  fortuna,  et  scriptis,"  he  has 
given  us  an  account  of  his  literary  labours,  and  of  the 
circumstances  which  led  to  his  writing"  the  various 
works  of  his  which  we  possess.  Of  his  original  com- 
positions, however,  it  is  not  to  our  present  purpose  to 
speak ;  but,  after  enumerating  a  good  many,  and  say- 
ing, "  As  the  Lord  commanded  the  Dsemoniac  in  the 
gospel  to  go  to  his  own  house,  and  shew  how  great 
things  God  had  done  for  him,  I  also  would  relate  how 
great  benefits  God  has  vouchsafed  to  me,"  he  goes 
on — 

"  For  the  same  reason  I  think  it  proper  to  add  an  account 
of  the  great  knowledge  and  capacity  for  writing  which  was 
given  me  by  the  Lord  in  my  childhood.  When  as  yet  a 
little  child,  I  was  sent  to  school,  and  quickly  learned  my 
letters ;  and  I  began,  long  before  the  usual  time  of  learning, 
and  without  any  order  from  the  master,  to  learn  the  art  of 
writing.  But  in  a  furtive  and  unusual  manner,  and  without 
any  teacher,  I  attempted  to  learn  that  art.  From  this  circum- 
stance I  got  a  habit  of  holding  my  pen  in  a  wrong  manner ; 
nor  were  any  of  my  teachers  afterwards  able  to  correct  me 
in  that  point ;  for  I  had  become  too  much  accustomed  to  it 
to  be  capable  of  altering.  Many  who  saw  this  unanimously 
decided  that  I  should  never  write  well ;  but,  by  the  grace  of 
God,  it  turned  out  otherwise,  as  is  known  to  many  persons. 
For,  even  in  my  childhood,  and  at  the  time  when,  together 
with  the  other  boys,  the  tablet  was  put  into  my  hands,  that  I 
might  learn  to  write,  it  appeared  that  I  had  some  notion  of 
writing,  to  the  no  small  surprise  of  those  who  saw  it.  Then, 
after  a  short  time,  1  began  to  write  so  well,  and  was  so  fond 
of  it,  that  in  the  place  where  I  learned,  that  is,  in  the  monas- 
tery of  Tegernsee,  [in  Bavaria,  almost  in  a  line  between 
Munich  and  Innspruck.]  I  wrote  many  books.  And  being 
sent  into  Franconia  while  I  was  yet  a  boy,  1  worked  so  hard 
at  writing  while  I  was  there,  that  before  I  returned  I  had 
nearly  lost  my  sight.  This  I  resolved  to  mention,  in  the 
hope  that  I  may  excite  some  others  to  a  similar  love  of 
labour ;  and  that,  by  recounting  to  others  the  grace  of  God 
which  has  granted  to  me  such  benefits,   1   may  lead  them  to 

E  e 


418  OTHLONUS,    A    WRITER.  [NO.   XXIV 

magnify  that  grace  of  God  with  me.  And  the  better  to  do 
this,  I  think  it  proper  to  relate  how  I  laboured  in  writing 
afterwards,  when  I  had  returned  from  Franconia,  for  I  was 
there  when  the  Emperor  Henry  died,  and  Conrad  came  to 
the  throne  [in  the  year  1024]. 

"  Then,  after  I  came  to  be  a  monk  in  the  monastery  of 
St.  Emmeram,  I  was  soon  induced,  by  the  request  of  some 
of  them,  again  to  occupy  myself  so  much  in  writing  that  I 
seldom  got  any  interval  of  rest,  except  on  festivals,  and  at 
such  times  as  work  could  not  be  performed.  In  the  mean- 
time, there  came  more  work  upon  me ;  for,  as  they  saw  that 
I  was  generally  reading,  or  writing,  or  composing,  they  made 
me  the  schoolmaster.  By  all  which  things  I  was,  through 
God's  grace,  so  fully  occupied,  that  I  frequently  could  not 
allow  my  body  the  necessary  rest.  And  when  I  had  a  mind 
to  compose  anything,  I  very  commonly  could  not  find  time 
for  it,  except  on  holydays,  or  by  night,  being  tied  down  to 
the  business  of  teaching  the  boys,  and  the  transcribing  which 
I  had  been  persuaded  to  undertake.  Therefore,  beside  the 
books  which  I  composed  myself,  which  I  wrote  to  give  away 
for  the  edification  of  those  who  asked  for  them,  and  of  others 
to  whom  I  gave  them  unasked,  I  wrote  nineteen  missals — 
ten  for  the  abbots  and  monks  in  our  own  monastery,  four  for 
the  brethren  at  Fulda,  five  for  those  in  other  places ;  three 
books  of  the  Gospels,  and  two  with  the  Epistles  and  Gospels, 
which  are  called  Lectionaries ;  beside  which  I  wrote  four 
service  books  for  matins.  Afterwards,  old  age  and  infirmity 
of  various  kinds  hindered  me  ;  especially  the  tedious  inter- 
ruption which  lasted  for  a  very  long  time  through  various 
anxieties,  and  the  grief  which  was  caused  by  the  destruction 
of  our  monastery  ;  but  to  Him  who  is  the  Author  of  all  good, 
and  who  alone  governs  all  things,  and  who  has  vouchsafed 
to  give  many  things  to  me  unworthy,  be  praise  eternal,  be 
honour  everlasting. 

"  I  think  it  right  also  to  relate,  as  far  as  I  am  able  to  recol- 
lect, how  many  books  I  have  given  to  different  monasteries 
and  friends ;  and  first  I  would  mention  the  monks  at  Fulda, 
because,  as  I  worked  a  great  deal  in  their  monastery,  writing 
many  books  which  I  sent  to  our  monastery,  so  in  ours  I 
wrote  out  some  books  which  they  had  not ;  and,  if  I  remem- 
ber right,  I  sent  them  seven.     To  the  monks  of  Hirschfeld, 


NO.  XXIV.]  DIEMUDIS,    A    WRITER.  410 

two  books  ;  and  when  I  returned  from  those  parts  and  came 
to  Amarbach,  I  gave  one  to  the  abbot  of  that  place.  After- 
wards, being  under  obligation  to  brother  William,  I  gave  him 
four  books,  among  which  there  was  a  very  valuable  missal. 
To  the  abbot  of  Lorsch,  one  book ;  to  certain  friends  dwell- 
ing in  Bohemia,  four  books ;  to  a  friend  at  Passau,  one 
book  ;  to  the  monastery  of  Tegernsee,  two  books ;  to  the 
monastery  of  Pryel,  near  us,  one  volume,  in  which  were 
three  books.  And  also  I  gave  one  book,  and  various  epistles, 
to  my  sister's  son,  who  was  living  there.  To  the  monastery 
of  Obermunster  I  gave  three  books ;  and  to  that  of  Nider- 
munster,  one  book.  Moreover,  to  many  others  I  gave  or 
sent,  at  different  times,  sermons,  proverbs,  and  edifying 
writings 8." 

One  would  like  to  know  what  books  they  were  which 
Othlonus  thus  multiplied ;  but  this  is  perhaps  now  im- 
possible. With  regard  to  another  case,  however,  which 
I  have  particular  pleasure  in  producing,  we  are  in  no 
doubt.  An  anonymous  monk  of  Wessobrunn,  a  place 
already  mentioned  and  also  in  Bavaria,  has  preserved 
an  account  of  a  nun  whose  labours  quite  eclipse  those 
of  Othlonus.  The  historian,  who  seems  to  have  begun 
his  work  in  the  year  1513,  savs — 

l"  Diemudis  was  formerly  a  most  devout  nun  of  this  our 
monastery  of  Wessobrunn.  For  our  monastery  was  formerly 
double,  or  divided  into  two  parts, — that  is  to  say,  of  monks 
and  nuns.  The  place  of  the  monks  was  where  it  now  is ; 
but  that  of  the  nuns  where  the  parish  church  now  stands. 
This  virgin  was  most  skilful  in  the  art  of  writing.  For 
though  she  is  not  known  to  have  composed  any  work,  vet 
she  wrote  with  her  own  hand  many  volumes  in  a  most  beau- 
tiful and  legible  character,  both  for  divine  service  and  for  the 
public  library  of  the  monastery,  which  are  enumerated  in  a 
list  written  by  herself  in  a  certain  plenarius  9.     For  in   that 

8  Mab.  Anal.  iv.  448,  (fol.  ed.  119.)  Conf.  B.  Pez  in  Diss.  Isagog.  in 
Tom.  iii.  Thes.  Anecd.  Xoviss.  p.  x. 

9  The  writer  probably  means  (as  this  term  frequently  does)  a  missal 
containing,  beside  its  proper  contents,  the  Epistles  and  Gospels  ;  but  the 
word  is  used  so  variously,  that  it  is  impossible  to  feel  certain. 

e  e  2 


420  DIEMUDUS,    A    NUN  [NO.  XXIV. 

list  the  following  books  pertaining  to  divine  service  are  enu- 
merated : — 

A  Missal,  with  the  Gradual  and  Sequences. 

Another  Missal,  with  Gradual  and  Sequences,  which  was 

given  to  the  Bishop  of  Treves. 
Another  Missal,  with  the  Epistles,   Gospels,  Gradual  and 

Sequences. 
Another  Missal,   with   the  Epistles   and   Gospels   for   the 

whole  year;  and  the  Gradual  and  Sequences,    and   the 

entire  service  for  Baptism. 
A  Missal,  with  Epistles  and  Gospels. 
A  Book  of  Offices. 
Another  Book  of  Offices,  with  the  Baptismal  Service,  which 

was  given  to  the  Bishop  of  Augsburgh. 
A  Book  with  the  Gospels  and  Lessons. 
A  Book  with  the  Gospels. 
A  Book  with  the  Epistles. 

These  books  she  wrote,  as  T  have  said,  for  the  use  and  orna- 
ment of  divine  service.  With  the  following  she  adorned  our 
library,  of  which  only  those  that  are  marked  thus  §  still 
remain  there  \  For  the  others  have  perished  and  are  lost, 
either  through  the  burning  of  the  monastery,  (which  is  said  to 
have  happened  twice,)  or  by  the  negligence  and  sloth  of  subse- 
quent monks ;  as  the  list  already  mentioned  specifies  the 
following  books  belonging  to  the  library: — 

A  Bible,  in  two  volumes,  which  was  given  for  the  estate  in 

Pisinberch. 
A  Bible,  in  three  volumes. 

The  Morals  of  St.   Gregory,   [that  is,  his  Commentary  on 
Job,]  in  six  volumes,  the  first  and  third  of  which  are 
lost. 
St.  Gregory  ad  Regaredum  2. 
St.  Gregory  on  Ezechiel,  and  some  other  things,  in  one 

volume. 
Sermons  and  Homilies  of  Ancient  Doctors,  three  volumes. 


1  I  translate  as  it  stands  ;  but  I  do  not  see  that  any  books  in  the  list  are 
so  marked,  or  in  any  way  distinguished  from  the  others. 

2  I  do  not  know  what  this  means  ;  but  I  am  not  so  familiar  with  Gre- 
gory's works  as  Alulfus  was.  I  do  not  recollect  that  any  of  them  are 
addressed  to  any  one  so  named. 


NO.  XXIV.]         OF    WESSOBRUNN,    A    WRITER.  421 

Origen  on  the  Old  Testament. 

on  the  Canticles. 

Augustine  on  the  Psalms,  iii.  volumes. 

on  the   Gospel,   and   the    First    Epistle   of  St. 

John,  ii.  volumes  ;  the  first  missing. 

Epistles,  to  the  number  of  lxxv. 

Treatises,    '  De    verbis   Domini,1    '  De    Sermone 

Domini  in  Monte,'  '  De  opere  Monaehorum,'  and  l  De 
Agone   Christiano,'     4  De   Adorando,'    i  De    Professione 
Viduitatis,1  '  De  Bono  Conjugali,'  4  De  Virginitate.' 
St.  Jerome's  Epistles,  to  the  number  of  clxiv. 
The  Tripartite  History  of  Cassiodorus,  [that  is,  the  com- 
pendium of  ecclesiastical  history  which  he  made,  in  the 
sixth   century,    from     Epiphanius's     Latin     Version    of 
Socrates,  Sozomen,  and  Theodoret.] 
Eusebius's  Ecclesiastical  History. 

St.  Augustine,  Fifty  Sermons ;  The  Life  of  St.  Silvester ; 
Jerome  against  Vijjilantius,  and  '  De  Consolatione  Mor- 
tuorum  ; '  The  Life  of  St.  Blaise ;  The  Life  of  St.  John 
the  Almoner  [Patriarch  of  Alexandria  early  in  the 
seventh  century.  I  presume,  from  the  way  in  which 
they  are  put  together,  that  these  formed  only  one  volume, 
as  also  the  following  : — ] 
Paschasius  on  the  Body  and  Blood  of  Christ ;  The  Conflict 
of  Lanfranc  with  Berengarius  ;  The  Martyrdom  of  St. 
Dionysius ;  The  Life  of  St.  Adrian,  pope,  &c. 
St.  Jerome  c  De  Hebraicis  Quaestionibus/  and  many  other 

works  by  him  and  by  other  writers. 
St.  Augustine's  Confessions. 
Canons. 

The  Gloss,  alphabetically  arranged,  [I  suppose  this  is 
meant  by  ■  Glossa  per  A.  B.  C.  composita.'] 
These  are  the  volumes  written  with  her  own  hand  by  the 
aforesaid  handmaid  of  God,  Diemudis,  to  the  praise  of  God 
and  of  the  holy  apostles,  Peter  and  Paul,  the  patrons  of  this 
monastery.  But  at  what  period  she  lived  I  could  never  dis- 
cover, since,  in  all  the  books,  (we  charitably  hope  from  hu- 
mility,) she  omitted  to  mention  her  name  and  the  time  when 
she  finished  V 


1  Pei  Diss.  Isagog.  in  Tom.  i.  Theaaur.  Anccd.  Novis.  p.  ex. 


422  DIEMUDIS,    A    WRITER.  [NO.  XXIV. 

That,  however,  which  her  anonymous  biographer 
could  not  discover,  Pez  learned  from  a  MS.  account  of 
the  Abbots  of  Wessobrunn,  which  he  found  in  the 
neighbouring  monastery  of  Tegernsee.  The  author  of 
it  states  that  Diemudis  lived  in  the  time  of  Gregory 
VII.,  (who  became  pope  in  a.d.  1073,)  and  therefore, 
though  probably  somewhat  younger,  she  was  contem- 
porary with  the  monk  of  Ratisbon,  whose  labours  I 
have  just  mentioned.  The  same  writer  says,  that 
Diemudis  carried  on  a  correspondence  by  very  sweet 
letters  (epistoke  suaves  valde)  with  Herluca,  who  was 
for  thirty-six  years  a  nun  at  Eppach,  a  mile  (I  suppose 
a  German  one)  from  Wessobrunn ;  and  that  the  letters 
were  then  extant  in  the  monastery  of  Bernried.  Pez, 
however,  who  went  there  to  look  for  them,  could 
obtain  no  information.  Without  giving  any  improper 
sanction  to  the  popish  doctrine  of  transferred  merit, 
may  we  not  allow  this  indefatigable  "exaratrix"  (as 
her  biographer  calls  her)  to  make  up,  in  some  degree, 
for  the  deficiency  of  her  pious  founder,  who  has  been  a 
standing  jest  among  writers  on  the  Dark  Ages,  because 
he  could  not  write  his  name'  ? 

But  readers  will  ask  questions  ;  or,  at  least,  writers 
cannot  help  imagining  it,  especially  when  they  feel 
that  they  are  at  all  discursive.  Somebody  may  say, 
"  What  has  this  to  do  with  the  Secretary  Nicholas  ? " 
To  which  I  answer — If  the  reader  can  imagine  him  out 
of,  and  without  reference  to,  a  scriptorium,  well  and 
good — it  is  more  than  I  can  do ;  and  believing  such 
powers  of  abstraction  to  be  very  rare,  I  have  thought 
it  right,  in  introducing  him,  to  say  a  few  words  on  that 
subject.  Again,  it  may  be  asked,  "  What  had  Nicholas 
to  do  with  Bernard's  letters  to  Peter  the  Venerable  ? " 
To  do  with  them  ?  why  everything :  he  wrote  them ; 

1  Of  Tassilo,  Duke  of  Bavaria,  sec  No.  II.  p.  11. 


NO.  XXV.]  BERNARD    AND    PETER.  4'2o 

he  carried  them ;  he  was  the  depository  of  the  "  ver- 
bum  secretum"  which  accompanied  them,  and  which 
correspondents  frequently  sent  by  the  trusty  messenger 
before  post-offices  came  into  fashion ;  he  was  the  con- 
necting link  between  the  abbots,  the  bosom  friend  of 
both  ;  in  short,  he  was  a  person  worth  knowing,  and  I 
hope  to  make  him  better  known. 


No.  XXV. 


"  Amantium  irae  amoris  integratio  est." — Lat.  Gram. 

"  Is  it  thus  that  you  think  tit  to  joke?"  says  Bernard 
to  his  friend  Peter  of  Clugny,  who,  notwithstanding  his 
title  of  "  Venerable,"  and  his  being  scarcely  known  in 
the  present  day  except  as  a  monk  of  the  dark  ages 
(that  is,  in  the  minds  of  many,  a  mere  vegetation  of 
overfed  stupidity),  was  certainly  a  very  facetious 
person — 

44  Is  it  thus  that  you  think  fit  to  joke  ?  It  is  all  very  pro- 
per, and  very  friendly,  provided  only  that  it  is  not  meant  to 
take  me  in.  Do  not  wonder  at  my  saying  this ;  for  the  very 
circumstance  of  your  sudden  and  unexpected  condescension 
makes  me  suspect  it.  It  is  not  long  ago  that  I  wrote  to 
salute  your  greatness  with  all  due  reverence,  and  you  did  not 
answer  me  a  word.  Not  long  before,  also,  I  had  written  to 
you  from  Rome,  and  then  too  I  did  not  get  a  single  syllable. 
Do  you  wonder  that  on  your  recent  return  from  Spain  I  did 
not  intrude  my  nonsense  upon  you  I  At  any  rate,  if  it  is  a 
fault  merely  not  to  have  written,  whatever  may  have  been 
the  cause,  surely  some  blame  attaches  to  unwillingness,  not 
to  say  contemptuous  neglect,  in  answering.  Observe  what 
I  might  say  on  the  score  of  justice  (as  you  put  me  on  that) 
were  it  not  that  I  desire  rather  to  meet  returning  kindness, 
than  to  retard  it  either  by  useless  excuses  or  recrimination. 
But  I  have  said  this,  that  I  may  not  keep  shut  up  in  my 
mind  any  thing  which  I  have  not  fairly  spoken  out ;  for  that 


424  BERNARD    OF    CLAIRVAUX,  [NO.  XXV. 

is  inconsistent  with  true  friendship.  As  to  the  rest,  since 
charity  believeth  all  things,  let  every  remnant  of  suspicion 
be  removed.  I  rejoice  that  you  have  again  warmed  to  the 
remembrance  of  former  friendship,  and  even  to  the  recalling 
of  your  friend,  injured  as  he  is.  I  come  gladly  as  soon  as  I 
am  called,  happy  that  I  am  called,  and  have  quite  forgotten 
all  my  wrongs.  Here  am  I,  that  used  to  be,  and  am,  the 
servant  of  your  holiness5.  I  am  thankful  that  I  am  excel- 
lently well  situated,  being,  as  you  are  pleased  to  write,  an 
actual  inmate  of  yourself  (intimus  vobis  factus),  for  if,  as  you 
charge  me,  I  should  become  cold,  I  shall  undoubtedly  soon 
grow  warm  again,  thus  cherished  by  your  bowels  of  charity. 

"And  now  as  to  what  you  were  pleased  to  write — I 
received  it  with  outstretched  hands,  I  read  it  eagerly,  I  love 
to  reperuse  it,  and,  after  often  reading  over,  it  still  delights 
me.  I  confess,  I  love  the  humour  of  it.  For  it  is  delightful 
in  its  mirth,  and  serious  in  its  gravity.  I  know  not  how  it 
is  that,  in  the  midst  of  your  jocularity,  you  do  somehow 
manage  your   discourse  so  judiciously,  that  the  humour  has 


5  The  difficulty  of  translating  letters  of  this  period  is  much  increased 
by  the  titles ;  which,  though  common  at  that  time,  can  now  scarcely  be 
put  into  English  without  some  appearance  of  burlesque,  not  to  say  deri- 
sion. This  is  the  case  with  "  your  holiness,"  which  some  protestants 
know  only  as  a  title  of  the  Pope,  and  suppose  to  belong  exclusively  to 
him.  The  thing,  however,  was  common,  and  sufficient  specimens  might 
be  furnished  from  the  correspondence  of  Bernard  and  Peter  alone  to  shew 
that  it  was  so.  GeorTry  of  Chalons  writes  to  Peter,  "  rescribat  humilitati 
mese  Sanctitas  vestra."  (Bibl.  Clun.  781.)  How  is  one  to  translate  such 
terms  as  •'humilitas  mea,"  "  prudentia,"  or  "  beatitudo,  vestra,"  &c?  I 
must  really  request  the  reader's  instruction,  or  his  indulgence,  in  what 
follows  in  this  paper,  and  on  all  similar  occasions.  The  title  of  Sanctitas 
is  also  given  to  Peter  by  Sugerius,  Abbot  of  St.  Denys.  (lb.  961.)  But 
perhaps  what  may  appear  the  most  singular  instance  is  Peter's  thus 
addressing  the  unfortunate  Heloise — "  Gavisus  sum  et  hoc  non  parum, 
legens  Sanctitatis  vestra?  literas  "  (lb.  920.)  As  to  the  Pope's  exclusive 
right,  we  may  say  the  same  of  his  being  "  Vicar  of  Christ."  Jacobus  de 
Vitriaco  (who  wrote  early  in  the  thirteenth  century)  says,  "  Ipsa  terra 
Jerosolymitana  patriarcham  habet,  qui  et  fidei  peritus,  et  Christianorum 
pater,  et  Vicarius  Jesu  Christi."  Hist.  Orient,  ap.  Mart.  iii.  277.  Solomon, 
too,  Bishop  of  Constance,  at  an  earlier  period,  (whom  I  hope  the  reader 
will  always  remember  as  the  patron  of  the  abominable  Sindolf,)  addressed 
Bishop  Dado,  "  Discrete  Antistes,  venerande  Vicarie  Christi."  Bib.  Pat. 
Supp.  ii.  825. 


NO.  XXV.]  AND    PETER    OF    CLUGNI.  425 

not  the  appearance  of  levity,  and  yet  the  dignity  which  you 
preserve  does  not  diminish  the  freedom  of  your  humour.  In 
fact  that  dignity  is  kept  up  in  such  a  way  that  one  might 
fairly  apply  to  you  what  was  said  by  the  holy  man  ;  '  If  I 
laughed  on  them  they  believed  it  not.1  r   [Job  xxix.  24.] 

One  would  like  to  see  Peter's  letter  to  which  the 
foregoing  was  an  answer,  (or  part  of  an  answer,  for  I 
am  afraid  of  tiring  the  patience  of  my  readers  by  giving 
whole  letters,  except  when  they  are  very  important  or 
very  brief,)  but  I  believe  that  it  is  not  known  to  be 
extant.  The  simple  fact,  however,  seems  to  be,  that 
Peter  had  felt,  and  expressed,  though  in  a  playful  man- 
ner, some  sense  of  neglect,  owing  to  his  not  having 
heard  from  Bernard  since  his  return  from  Spain  ;  and 
some  amantium  irce  had  certainly  ensued.  My  object, 
however,  is  not  so  much  here  to  enter  into  the  personal 
history  of  these  abbots,  as  to  give  the  reader  (as  far  as 
I  know  how  to  do  it  by  translation,  which  those  who 
have  tried  it  will  know  to  be  very  difficult,  and  at  the 
best  very  inadequate)  some  idea  of  their  correspond- 
ence, many  years  after  the  dispute  about  their  respect- 
ive Orders,  in  which  we  have  seen  them  engaged  in  the 
characters  of  plaintiff  and  defendant.  Peter  begins  his 
reply  by  saying — 

"  Your  shrewd  holiness  will  perhaps  wonder  that  I  have 
been  so  long  in  answering  such  a  sweet  and  pleasant  letter  of 
a  friend,  to  which  I  ought  cheerfully  and  quickly  to  have 
replied ;  and  will,  I  am  afraid,  impute  it  to  sloth  or  contempt. 
Far  be  both — both  are  far — from  me ;  for  I  scarcely  ever 
received  anything  in  the  nature  of  a  letter  with  more  plea- 
sure, or  read  it  with  more  interest.  The  delay  has  been 
partly  caused  by  the  messenger ;  who,  coming  to  Clugny, 
and  not  finding  me  there,  (though  I  was  not  very  far  off, 
being  only  at  Marcigni,)  neither  brought  on  nor  forwarded 
your  letter,  but  left  it  at  Clugny.  And  that  I  may  not  even 
appear  to  be  finding  fault  with  a  good  man,  I  must  say  that 
I    believe   him   to   have   been    called    away   by   business,    or 


426  BERNARD    OF    CLAIRVAUX,  [NO.  XXV. 

deterred  from  attempting  to  reach  me  by  the  extreme  seve- 
rity of  the  winter.  I  was  myself  detained  there  both  by 
snow  and  business  for  a  month,  and  scarcely  got  home  by 
the  beginning  of  Lent.  At  length  I  got  your  letter  from  the 
Sub-Prior,  to  whom  it  had  been  entrusted.  Immediately 
my  mind  was  drawn  out,  and  glowing  as  it  was  before  with 
affection  to  you,  when  so  much  more  enflamed  by  the  breath 
of  your  bosom  through  that  letter,  it  could  no  longer  har- 
bour any  feeling  of  coldness  or  lukewarmness.  Drawn  out, 
I  say,  and  so  drawn  out  that  I  did  what  I  never  remember  to 
have  done,  except  in  reverence  to  the  Holy  Scriptures — as 
soon  as  I  had  read  your  letter,  I  kissed  it.  And  that  I  might, 
according  to  my  custom,  excite  as  many  as  I  could  towards 
you  (for  all  at  that  time  I  could  not)  what  I  had  read  to  my- 
self, I  read  over  again  to  those  around  me ;  and  endeavoured 
as  much  as  possible  to  excite  in  them  a  greater  kindness  for 
you.  Then  immediately  I  laid  it  up  with  the  gold  and  silver 
which,  according  to  the  custom  delivered  to  me  by  my  fathers, 
I  carry  about  with  me  for  the  purpose  of  charity 6.  And  not 
incongruously ;  for  your  regard,  your  affection,  is  precious  to 
me  beyond  all  gold  and  silver. 

"  I  determined  to  write  what  was  in  my  mind  the  very 
next  day,  but  I  was  kept  silent  by  my  daily — nay,  my  con- 
tinual taskmaster  7,  who  made  me  do  other  things.  My  most 
severe  tyrant,  whom  I  could  not  resist,  commanded  silence, 
and  multifarious  care  about  an  infinite  number  of  matters 
kept  me  silent  not  one,  but  many  days.  Sometimes  fifteen 
days,  sometimes  a  whole  month,  sometimes  several  months, 
during  all  which  I  was  trying  to  write,  passed  over ;  but  the 
tyrant  already  mentioned  did  not  permit.  At  length  I  broke 
this  tiresome  chain ;  and,  though  with  difficulty,  I  have  over- 
come  the   burdensome  yoke   and  sceptre  of  the  exactor  by 


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

7  There  seems  to  he  here,  and  in  what  follows  about  his  taskmaster, 
some  allusion  to  the  contents  of  the  letter  which  had  produced  that  to 
which  Peter  was  now  replying. 


NO.  XXV.]  AND    PETER    OF    CLUGNI.  427 

writing  clandestinely  and  at  intervals.  And  lest  I  should 
seem  to  say  too  much  in  excuse  of  my  slowness  in  replying, 
you  have  forced  it  upon  me  by  saying,  '  It  is  not  long  ago 
that  I  wrote  to  salute  your  greatness 8  with  all  due  reverence, 
and  you  did  not  answer  me  a  single  word.  Not  long  before, 
also,  I  had  written  to  you  from  Rome,  and  then,  too,  I  did 
not  get  a  syllable.  Do  you  wonder  that  on  your  return  from 
Spain  I  did  not  intrude  my  nonsense  upon  you  ?  At  any 
rate,  if  it  is  a  fault  merely  not  to  have  written,  whatever  may 
have  been  the  cause,  surely  some  blame  attaches  to  unwill- 
ingness, not  to  say  contemptuous  neglect  in  answering.1 
This  is  what  you  say.  Now  what  do  I  say?  Plainly  this — 
I  say  that  I  could  by  no  means  have  denied  the  fault  which 
you  impute,  if  I  had  disdained  to  reply  to  such  a  friend 
when  he  had  written  first.  For  I  confess  that  I  ought  to 
have  written  to  one  who  had  first  written  to  me ;  but,  as  far 
as  I  can  remember,  while  you  were  staying  at  Rome  I  wrote 
first,  and  you  replied.  To  be  sure,  I  might  have  rejoined ; 
but  your  full  answer,  so  completely  satisfactory  as  to  what  I 
had  written,  made  me  silent.  Now  if  this  be  the  case,  the 
fault  with  which  I  am  charged  seems  to  turn  from  me,  and 
look  towards  you.  For  you  have  been  trying  to  convict  the 
blameless,  and  to  load  the  shoulders  of  an  innocent  brother 
with  a  burden  which  does  not  belong  to  him — not  to  say, 
which  does  belong  to  yourself.  As  to  my  having  done  the 
same  thing  on  another  occasion,  I  do  not  know  how  to  an- 
swer, for  I  cannot  recollect  the  circumstances.  If  I  could, 
there  should  certainly  be  either  a  fair  excuse,  or  a  humble 
apology. 

"  But  you  add,  '  Observe  what  I  might  say  on  the  score  of 
justice;1  and  I  say,  for  the  reasons  just  stated,  it  appears 
that  justice  is  on  my  side,  for  I  am  not  convicted  of  any 
fault.  Now  if  I  were  not  merciful,  I  might  call  myself  (as 
you  call  yourself)  an  injured  friend,  and  justly  require  that 
the  injury  should  be  punished.  But,  according  to  my  cus- 
tom, I  spare  you,  and  forgive  you  even  unasked.  I,  as  you 
have  said,  remember  no  injuries.     For  this  also  pertains  to 


8  The  text  of  Bernard's  letter,  as  it  stands  in  this  copy  of  Peter's,   is 
coronam  instead  of  magnitudinem. 


428  BERNARD    OF    CLAIRVAUX,  [NO.  XXV. 

what  follows9,  for  as  I  am  anxiously  endeavouring,  not  in 
jest,  but  in  earnest,  to  exclude  the  well-known  jealousy  from 
many  hearts,  (and  wish  to  excite  you  also  to  exclude  it,)  I 
would  first  exercise  indulgence  to  all,  and  what  I  labour  to 
make  others  do,  I  would  first  do  myself. 

"  But  perhaps  you  will  say  again,  s  Is  it  thus  that  you 
think  fit  to  joke?1  Yes,  I  do  think  it  fit,  with  you.  Cer- 
tainly, with  you,  though  not  with  others.  For  with  them,  if 
I  were  to  pass  the  bounds  of  seriousness,  I  should  be  afraid 
of  incurring  the  charge  of  levity ;  but  with  you  I  am  under 
no  apprehension  about  levity,  but  follow  after  charity  lest 
that  should  slip  away.  Therefore  it  is  always  delightful  to 
me  to  talk  to  you,  and  to  keep  up  by  pleasant  discourse  the 
honied  sweetness  of  charity  between  us.  For  I  take  all  pos- 
sible pains  not  to  be  of  the  number  of  those  brethren  who 
hated  Joseph  in  their  heart,  and  could  not  speak  peaceably 
to  him.'1 

If  a  soft  answer  turneth  away  wrath,  we  may  hope 
that  this  reply  from  Peter  produced  the  effect.  There 
was,  indeed,  such  a  fervour  in  the  whole  character  and 
style  of  Bernard  that  those  who  knew  him  personally 
must  have  been  aware  that,  in  matters  of  feeling  at 
least,  he  was  liable  to  be  drawn  into  saying  rather 
more  than  would  bear  the  cool  examination  of  after- 
thought, or  the  strict  anatomy  of  malice.  Yet  perhaps 
another  of  his  letters  to  Peter  may  lead  us  to  doubt 
whether  he  is  really  responsible  for  every  expression 
which  may  be  found  among  his  epistles.     He  says — 

"  I  wish  I  could  send  you  my  mind  just  as  I  send  you  this 
letter.  You  would,  I  am  sure,  read  most  clearly  what  the 
finger  of  God  has  written  on  my  heart,  has  impressed  on  my 
marrow,  of  love  to  you.  What  then  I  Do  I  begin  again  to 
commend  myself  to  you?     Far  be  it  from  me.     Long  since 


9  That  is,  I  presume,  to  the  sequel  of  the  letter,  which  relates  to  the 
differences  existing  between  the  orders,  and  was  written  to  promote  peace 
between  ihem. 


NO.  XXV.]  AND    PETER    OF    CLUGNT.  429 

has  my  mind  been  agglutinated  to  yours,  and  equal  affection 
makes  equal  souls  in  unequal  persons.  Else  what  could  my 
lowliness  have  done  with  your  eminence,  if  condescension 
had  not  bowed  your  dignity  ?  Ever  since,  both  have  been 
mingled,  both  my  lowliness  and  your  eminence,  so  that  I 
cannot  be  humble  without  you,  nor  you  exalted  without  me. 
I  say  this  because  my  Nicholas  (yes,  and  yours  too)  being 
vastly  moved  in  spirit  himself,  has  moved  me ;  affirming  that 
he  saw  a  letter  from  me  addressed  to  you,  which  contained 
some  unkind  expressions.  Believe  one  who  loves  you,  that 
there  neither  rose  in  my  heart,  nor  issued  from  my  lips,  any- 
thing which  could  offend  the  ears  of  your  blessedness.  The 
fault  is  owing  to  the  multitude  of  business ;  so  that  my 
scribes  do  not  well  remember  what  I  tell  them.  They 
sharpen  their  style  too  much ;  and  it  is  out  of  my  power  to 
look  over  what  I  have  ordered  to  be  written.  Spare  me  this 
time ;  for  however  it  may  go  with  others,  I  will  see  yours, 
and  will  trust  no  eyes  or  ears  but  my  own.  Other  matters 
this  common  son  of  ours  will  more  clearly  and  fully  tell  you  by 
word  of  mouth.  You  will  hear  as  myself,  him  who  loves  you 
not  in  word  nor  in  tongue,  but  in  deed  and  in  truth.  Salute 
for  me  that  holy  multitude  of  yours,  and  entreat  them  to  pray 
for  their  servant. " 

Peter,  as  I  have  elsewhere  stated,  was  liable  to  be 
rather  prolix  whenever  he  took  his  pen  in  hand.  He 
seems  to  have  eyed  with  a  calm,  quiet,  somewhat 
admiring  look,  that  impatient  love  of  brevity  and  con- 
densation, and  knocking  off  matters  in  a  verbum  sat 
manner,  which  had  made  such  progress  in  his  modern 
days.  I  have  no  doubt  that  he  was  a  man  of  business, 
and  got  through  a  great  deal,  in  a  very  clear-headed 
way;  and  he  could  write  very  short  letters.  But  when 
his  feelings  were  moved,  they  were  apt  to  overflow,  and 
cover  a  great  deal  of  parchment.  They  were  touched 
by  this  letter  of  Bernard,  which  produced  a  reply  five 
times  as  long  as  itself;  so  that  brevity,  or  rather  mode- 
ration, admits  of  only  an  extract  in  this  place.  After 
discoursing   on    the    titles   of    u  Most    Reverend,"    of 


430  BERNARD    OF    CLAIRVAUX,  [NO.  XXV. 

"  Father,"  and  of  "  Friend,"  by  all  of  which  Bernard 
had  addressed  him  in  the  superscription  of  his  letter, 
Peter  adds — 

u  But  what  shall  I  say  of  what  follows  ?  '  I  wish,1  you 
say,  '  that  I  could  send  you  my  mind,  just  as  I  send  you 
this  letter  i1  and  immediately  after,  '  you  would,  I  am  sure, 
read  most  clearly  what  the  finger  of  God  has  written  on  my 
heart,  has  impressed  on  my  marrow,  of  love  to  you.''  Truly 
these  words  (if  I  may  say  it  without  irreverence  to  the  greater 
sacramental  mystery  to  which  the  passage  applies)  are  like 
ointment  on  the  head,  which  descended  from  the  head  of 
Aaron  to  the  skirt  of  his  garment — truly  this  is  the  dew  of 
Hermon,  which  descended  on  Mount  Zion — truly,  also,  thus 
do  the  mountains  drop  sweetness,  and  the  hills  flow  with 
milk  and  honey.  Do  not  wonder  that  I  scrutinize,  and  lay 
hold  on  your  words.  For  I  know  that  they  proceed  not 
from  a  common  mouth ;  but  from  his  who  knows  not  to 
speak  but  from  a  pure  heart,  and  good  conscience,  and  love 
unfeigned.  I  know  this,  I  say,  and  the  world  knows,  as  well 
as  I,  that  you  are  not  of  the  number  of  those  who,  according 
to  the  Psalm,  have  spoken  vain  things,  every  one  to  his 
neighbour;  that  you  are  not  one  of  those  who  have  spoken 
with  deceitful  lips  and  a  double  heart.  Therefore,  whenever 
your  holiness  is  pleased  to  write  to  me,  I  receive,  and  read, 
and  embrace,  your  letters,  not  carelessly,  or  negligently,  but 
studiously  and  with  affection.  For  who  would  not  read  with 
interest,  who  would  not  embrace  with  deep  affection,  what 
T  have  already  quoted,  and  what  follows — 4  Long  since  has 
my  mind  been  agglutinated  to  yours,  and  equal  affection 
makes  equal  souls  in  unequal  persons.  Else  what  could  my 
lowliness  have  done  with  your  eminence,  if  condescension 
had  not  bowed  your  dignity?  Ever  since  both  have  been 
mingled,  both  my  lowliness  and  your  eminence,  so  that  I 
cannot  be  humble  without  you,  nor  you  exalted  without  me1  ? 
Are  words  like  these  to  be  negligently  read?  Ought  they 
not  to  fix  the  eye  of  him  who  reads  them,  to  ravish  the  heart, 
to  unite  the  soul  ?  You,  my  dearest  friend,  who  have  written 
these  things,  may  think  of  them  as  you  please ;  but  for  my 
part,  I  cannot  take  them  otherwise  than  simply  according  to 
the  letter — than  as  the  declarations  of  such,  so  true,  so  holy 


NO.  XXV.]  AND    PETER    OF    CLUGNI.  431 

a  man.  Nor,  as  you  have  yourself  said,  do  I  begin  again  to 
commend  myself  to  you.  While  we  were  young  men  we 
began  to  love  one  another  in  Christ ;  and  now  that  we  are 
old  ones,  or  not  far  from  it,  shall  we  call  in  question  a  love 
so  sacred,  and  of  so  long  standing  ?  God  forbid ;  believe 
one  who  loves  you  (to  borrow  your  words)  that  no  such  thing 
ever  arose  in  my  mind,  or  issued  from  my  lips,  as  any  kind 
of  doubt  about  anything  which  you  had  ever  seriously  said. 
What  you  wrote,  therefore,  in  this  letter,  I  received,  I  keep, 
I  preserve.  It  would  be  easier  to  rob  me  of  a  thousand 
talents  of  gold,  than  that  these  things  should  be  torn  from 
my  heart  by  anything  that  could  happen — but  enough  of 
this. 

"  As  to  the  rest,  what  your  prudence  conceives  might  have 
offended  me  was  this: — As  to  the  affair  of  a  certain  English 
abbot  (which  you  know  very  well),  your  letter  contained 
these  words :  4  As  if,  say  they,  judgment  were  subverted,  and 
justice  had  perished  from  the  world,  and  there  were  none 
who  would  deliver  the  needy  from  the  hand  of  him  that  is 
stronger  than  he,  the  poor  and  the  destitute  from  them  that 
spoil  him.'  But,  if  you  will  believe  me,  you  may  rest  assured 
that  I  was  only  moved  by  them,  as  the  prophet  (though  I 
am  not  a  prophet)  says  that  he  was.  '  But  I,  as  a  deaf  man, 
heard  not ;  and  as  a  dumb  man,  not  opening  his  mouth  ;  and 
I  became  as  a  man  that  heareth  not,  and  that  hath  no  re- 
proofs in  his  mouth.'  [Psalm  xxxvii.]  Indeed,  I  was  not 
offended  by  them.  But,  even  if  I  had  been,  you  have  made 
full  amends,  by  saying,  '  the  fault  is  owing  to  the  multitude 
of  business ;  so  that  my  scribes  do  not  well  remember  what 
I  tell  them.  They  sharpen  their  style  too  much,  and  it  is 
out  of  my  power  to  look  over  what  I  have  ordered  to  be  writ- 
ten. Spare  me  this  time,  for  however  it  may  go  with  others, 
I  will  see  yours,  and  will  trust  no  eyes  or  ears  but  my  own/ 
I  do  spare  you,  then.  Even  in  matters  of  serious  offence 
(I  say  it  with  humility),  I  do  not  find  it  difficult  to  forgive 
one  who  seeks  forgiveness,  or  grant  a  pardon  to  one  who 
asks  it.  And  if  in  serious  things  it  is  no  hardship  to  for- 
give, how  much  less,  how  nothing,  is  it  in  trifles  ? 

44  As  to  the  will  of  Baro,  the  Sub-deacon  of  Rome,  which 
be  is  said  to  have  made  at  the  time  of  his  death,  in  favour  of 
your  monastery  of  Clairvaux  and  of  Citeaux,  respecting  pro- 


432  BERNARD    OF    CLAIRVAUX,  [NO.  XXV. 

perty  which  he  had  deposited  with  us,  some  persons,  who 
say  that  he  enjoined  them  so  to  do,  have  written  to  me. 
I  wish  you,  however,  to  know,  that  according  to  the  testi- 
mony of  some  whom  I  believe  to  be  credible  witnesses,  you 
are  more  indebted  in  this  case  to  the  Abbot  of  Clugny 's  good 
will  than  to  the  testament  of  Baro.  I  knew,  indeed,  for  I  am 
not  so  unacquainted  with  divine  and  human  laws  as  to  be 
ignorant,  that  a  will  or  a  legacy  for  pious  uses,  or  a  trust 
causa  mortis,  is  to  be  judged  according  to  posteriority ;  but 
I  read  elsewhere  that  nothing  is  so  agreeable  to  natural  law 
as  that  the  will  of  a  proprietor,  desiring  to  transfer  his  pro- 
perty to  another,  should  take  effect.  I  say  this,  therefore, 
because  (as  the  aforesaid  witnesses  confess)  whatever  he  had 
deposited  at  Clugny,  he  had  given  the  whole  of  to  Clugny, 
unless  he  should  himself  resume  it  in  his  lifetime.  I  have 
not,  however,  chosen  to  insist  on  this  right ;  but  what,  from 
their  testimony,  I  believe  to  be  my  own,  I  have  given  up  to 
you  and  yours.  As  to  the  Grenoble  election  [of  a  bishop  to 
succeed  Hugh,  translated  to  the  Archbishopric  of  Vienne] 
which  our  Carthusians  are  opposing,  I  have  carefully  depo- 
sited my  opinion  in  the  mouth  of  my  most  dear,  and  your 
faithful,  Nicholas,  in  order  that  he  may  inform  you.  Hear 
him,  and  what  he  repeats  to  you  as  having  been  said  by  me, 
believe  without  the  least  hesitation.  If  I  have  forgotten 
anything  which  I  ought  to  have  said,  when  I  recollect  it,  I 
will  mention  it  to  my  most  dearly-beloved  in  Christ.  In 
fine,  I  most  earnestly  ask  and  entreat  you  (what  I  have 
already  asked  by  some  persons  of  your  Order)  that  in  this  so 
great  assembly  of  holy  men  as  has  met  together  at  Citeaux, 
you  will  remember  me  as  one  belonging  to  yourself,  and  will 
strongly  commend  me  and  the  whole  body  of  the  Cluniac 
congregation  to  their  prayers." 

With  this  letter  to  Bernard,  or,  I  am  inclined  to 
think,  more  probably  before  this  was  answered,  with 
another  letter  on  the  old  and  difficult  subject  of  the 
differences  between  their  respective  orders,  Peter  sent 
one  to  the  Secretary,  in  which  he  says  ; — 

"  As  I  love  you  with  unfeigned  affection,  I  cannot  long 
together  forget   you.      I   loved   you    when   you   were  of  our 


NO.  XXV.]  AND    PETER    OF    CLUGNI.  433 

colour,  [a  black  monk  of  Clugny,]  and  now  having,  as  re- 
gards myself,  changed  only  your  colour,  [by  becoming  a 
white  monk  at  Clairvaux,]  and  not  your  heart,  I  love  you 
not  the  less.  I  had  rather  that  you  belonged  to  me  than  to 
anybody  else  ;  but  since  wherever  you  are  you  are  God's,  so 
I  still  consider  you  mine.  Make  a  due  return,  and  love  him 
who  truly  loves  you  ;  for  as  not  the  whole  world  with  all  its 
powers  could  alter  those  feelings  in  me,  so  let  nothing  draw 
you  away  from  the  like  affection.  You  know  that  it  was  not 
to  gain  any  temporal  advantage,  you  know  that  no  other 
cause  moved  me  to  love  you,  but  only  what  was  amiable  in 
yourself.  But  you  ask,  what  was  that  ?  Because  I  knew, 
or  believed  you  to  be  learned,  able,  and,  what  is  more,  reli- 
gious, though  only  in  time,  and  not  from  eternity  \  But 
enough  of  this  ;  to  come  to  the  point — I  am  writing  a  letter 
to  my  lord  of  Clairvaux  which  I  want  you  to  present  to  him. 
Read  it  to  him  carefully  and  studiously,  and  exhort  him  as 
much  as  you  can,  that  what  I  have  written  with  a  view  to 
charity  may  be  brought  to  good  effect.  Urge  him,  for  he 
must  be  urged  on  account  of  the  shortness  of  the  interval, 
that  in  the  next  feast  of  All  Saints  he  may  do  what  I  wish, 
and  if  he  finds  persons  objecting  he  may  bring  them  over  to 
my  (and,  I  think  I  may  call  it,  his)  view.  The  King's  bro- 
ther [Henry,  brother  of  Lewis  the  young,  then  a  monk  of 
Clairvaux]  whom  I  sincerely  love,  Galcher  the  Cellarer,  our 
Garner,  Fromund  the  warden  of  the  guests,  and  the  other 
brethren  whom  you  know  better  than  I  do,  salute  affection- 
ately on  my  behalf.11 

To  this,  Bernard,  by  the  hand  of  the  Secretary 
Nicholas,  replied — 

"  I  saw  your  letter  only  for  a  moment,  but  with  no  little 
interest ;  I  was  occupied  with  so  much  business,  as  you, 
most  loving  father,  know,   or  may   know.     However,  I  tore 


1  "  Quia  te  literatum,  quia  strenuum,  quia  quod  plus  est,  religiosum  : 
licet  ex  tempore  non  ab  a?terno  esse  aut  cognovi,  aut  a?stimavi."  T  give 
this  as  it  stands  and  as  it  is  pointed  in  the  Bib.  Chin.  p.  901,  but  I  confess 
that  I  do  not  understand  it,  and  can  only  conjecture  that  it  may  refer  to 
some  dispute  which  might  exist  between  them,  as  to  what  is  now  called 
Calvinistic  doctrine. 

r  f 


434  BERNARD    OF    CLAIRVAUX,  [NO.    XXV. 

myself  away,  and  escaped  from  the  solicitations  of  everybody, 
and  shut  myself  up  with  that  Nicholas  whom  your  soul 
loveth.  I  read  over  again  and  again  the  sweetness  that 
flowed  from  your  letter.  It  was  redolent  of  your  affection, 
and  it  moved  mine.  I  grieved  that  I  was  not  able  to  answer 
according  to  my  feelings  ;  because  the  evil  of  the  day,  which 
was  great,  called  me  away.  For  a  vast  multitude,  out  of 
almost  every  nation  under  heaven,  had  assembled.  It  was 
my  place  to  answer  every  one  ;  because,  for  my  sins,  I  was 
born  into  the  world  that  I  might  be  confounded  with  many 
and  multifarious  anxieties.  In  the  meantime,  I  write  this 
scrap  to  him  who  is  my  own  soul,  but  when  I  can  get  time 
I  will  dictate  a  letter  more  accurately,  and  which  shall  more 
clearly  express  the  feelings  of  one  who  loves  you.  As  to  the 
will  of  Baro,  which  you  sent  to  us,  in  truth  we  give  you 
credit  for  it,  for  we  receive  it  not  as  a  debt,  but  as  a  gift.  I 
am  glad  to  know  the  truth  concerning  the  Grenoble  busi- 
ness. I  would  have  you  to  know,  too,  that  my  heart  was 
much  moved  by  the  words  of  our  common  son,  which  he 
brought  to  me  from  you.  I  am  not  disturbed  by  it,  but  pre- 
pared to  do  what  you  wish  wherever  I  can.  You,  as  a  most 
special  lord  and  father,  and  most  dear  friend,  and  your  monks 
both  alive  and  dead,  are  remembered  at  Citeaux.  The  Bishop 
of  Beauvais  elect,  [that  is,  the  King's  brother  Henry,  just 
mentioned]  as  one  of  your  own,  which  indeed  he  is,  salutes 
you.  I  your  Nicholas  salute  you  for  ever  and  beyond  it, 
and  the  household  that  cleaves  to  your  body  and  spirit.11 

PETER    TO    BERNARD. 

"  If  it  were  allowed,  if  the  providence  of  God  did  not  pre- 
vent it,  if  a  man's  way  were  in  his  own  power,  I  had  rather, 
most  dearly  beloved,  cleave  to  your  blessed  self  with  an  in- 
dissoluble union,  than  be  a  prince  or  a  king  anywhere  else. 
And  why?  Ought  I  not  to  prefer,  before  all  earthly  king- 
doms, your  society,  which  is  delightful  not  only  to  men,  but 
to  the  angels  themselves  ?  I  should  not  be  wrong  were  I  to 
call  you  their  fellow  citizen,  though  through  God's  mercy 
hope  has  not  passed  into  reality.  If  indeed  it  were  given 
me  to  be  with  you  here  till  your  last  breath,  perhaps  it  would 
be  granted  to  me  to  be  with  you  for  ever.  Whither  should  I 
run  but  after  you,  drawn  by   the  odour  of  your  ointments  ? 


NO.  XXV.]  AXD    PETER    OF    CLUONI.  435 

[Cant.  i.  3.]  But  as  this  is  not  granted  constantly,  I  would 
it  were  frequently ;  and  since  even  that  is  not  the  case,  I 
wish  I  could  at  least  have  frequent  messengers  from  you. 
And  since  that  very  seldom  happens,  I  desire  that  your  holi- 
ness will,  as  soon  as  possible,  visit  one  who  loves  you  until 
the  Christmas  week,  by  your  Nicholas,  in  whom  it  appears 
to  me  that  your  spirit  in  a  great  measure  reposes,  while  mine 
does  so  altogether.  I  shall  see  you,  holy  brother,  in  him, 
and  hear  you,  by  him ;  and  some  things  which  I  wish  to 
communicate  privately  to  your  wisdom,  I  shall  send  by  him. 
To  your  holy  soul,  and  to  the  holy  ones  serving  Almighty 
God  under  your  government,  I  commend  myself,  and  ours, 
with  all  possible  energy  and  devotion. " 

PETER    TO    NICHOLAS. 

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

BERNARD    TO    PETER. 

"  What  are  you  about,  my  good  man  I  you  laud  a  sinner 
and  beatify  a  miserable  creature.  You  must  add  a  prayer, 
that  I  may  not  be  led  into  temptation.  For  I  shall  be  led 
into  it,  if,  feeling  complacency  in  such  compliments,  I  begin 
not  to  know  myself.     How  happy  now  might  I  be,  if  words 

F  f  2 


4;3()  NICHOLAS    THE    SECRETARY.  [NO.  XXV. 

could  make  me  happy.  Happy  nevertheless  I  shall  call  my- 
self, but  in  your  regard,  not  in  my  own  praises.  Happy  that 
I  am  loved  by,  and  that  I  love,  you.  Though  indeed  this 
morsel,  sweet  as  it  is  to  me,  must  be  a  little  modified.  Do 
you  wonder  why  I  It  is  because  1  do  not  see  what  claim  I 
have  to  such  affection,  especially  from  such  a  man.  You 
know,  however,  that  to  desire  to  be  more  beloved  than  one 
deserves  is  unjust.  I  would  that  I  might  be  enabled  to  imi- 
tate as  well  as  to  admire,  that  mark  of  humility.  I  would 
that  I  might  enjoy  your  holy  and  desired  presence,  I  do  not 
say  always,  or  even  often,  but  at  least  once  a  year.  I  think 
I  should  never  return  empty.  I  should  not,  I  say,  look  in 
vain  at  a  pattern  of  discipline,  a  mirror  of  holiness.  And 
(that  which,  I  confess,  I  have  as  yet  but  too  little  learned  of 
Christ)  I  should  not  quite  in  vain  have  before  my  eyes  your 
example  of  meekness  and  lowliness  of  heart.  But  if  I  go  on 
to  do  to  you  what  I  have  complained  of  your  doing  to  me, 
though  I  may  speak  the  truth,  yet  I  shall  act  contrary  to  the 
word  of  truth,  which  commands  us  not  to  do  to  others  what 
we  would  not  that  they  should  do  to  us.  Therefore  let  me 
now  reply  to  the  little  request  with  which  you  concluded  your 
letter.  He  whom  you  order  to  be  sent  to  you  is  not  at  present 
with  me,  but  with  the  bishop  of  Auxerre,  and  so  ill,  that  he 
could  not,  without  great  inconvenience,  come  either  to  me  or 
to  you.11 

I  have  no  doubt  that  the  reason  assigned  bv  Bernard 
for  not  sending  the  Secretary  was  true  and  sufficient : 
but  we  may  perhaps  find  ground  to  doubt  whether  it 
was  the  only  reason.  It  is,  however,  corroborated  by 
a  letter  of  Nicholas,  which  begins  thus : — 

kt '  Shew  me,  0  thou  whom  my  soul  loveth1 — when  shall  I 
come  and  appear  before  thy  face,  when  shall  I  see  thee, 
1  when  wilt  thou  comfort  me1  ?  Comfort  me,  I  say,  for  4  com- 
fort is  hidden  from  mine  eyes1  until  I  see  your  desired  and 
desirable  presence ;  and  my  soul  is  sorrowful  even  unto  thee. 
To  be  sure,  wherever  I  go,  the  most  delightful  remembrance 
of  you  follows  me ;  but  in  proportion  as  that  recollection  is 
sweet,  so  is  absence  the  more  grievous.  Far  be  it  from  me 
to  receive  comfort  from   that  specious,  but   false  sentiment, 


NO.  XXV.]  AND    PETER    OF    CLUGNI.  437 

which  tells  us  that  those  are  more  really  present  who  are  so 
to  the  mind,  than  those  who  are  before  our  eyes,  and  that 
there  is  more  in  the  union  of  hearts  than  of  persons.  As  if, 
indeed,  the  look  and  speech  had  not  something  of  living 
pleasure,  which  the  absent  cannot  give.  But  I  think  this 
was  said  rather  from  system  than  from  feeling,  by  that  splen- 
dour of  Roman  eloquence  with  whom  eloquence  was  born 
and  brought  to  light — that  is,  Tully,  of  whom  it  was  said, 
that  what  he  had  framed  in  thought  he  enforced  in  action, 
followed  up  with  art,  transferring  with  the  utmost  ease  his 
heart  to  his  tongue.  What  am  I  about?  I  have  wandered 
from  my  business,  and  am  guilty  not  only  of  a  digression  but  a 
transgression.  Who  will  make  up  to  me  for  not  having  seen 
together  those  two  great  lights2,  and  that  too  in  the  firma- 
ment of  heaven,  namely,  in  that  place  which  the  Lord  hath 
chosen  from  among  all  the  places  of  the  earth  to  set  his  name 
there?  I  am  angry  with  my  occupations  through  which  it 
occurred,  not  that  I  was  unwilling,  but  unable,  and  that  I 
did  not  even  know  of  it.  It  was  caused  by  the  business  of 
your  brother,  my  Lord  Abbot  of  Vezelai,  in  which,  by  your 
command,  I  had  to  fight  with  beasts  that  man  might  not 
prevail,'1  &c. 

It  is  quite  clear  that  Nicholas  was  as  anxious  to  go 
to  Clugny  as  Peter  was  to  get  him  there.  His  letter 
is  too  long  to  admit  of  my  here  inserting  the  whole, 
and  it  may  be  sufficient  to  say  that  he  begged  Peter  to 
write  again  to  his  Abbot,  to  the  Prior,  and  to  Galcher 
the  Cellarer  (for  he  was  involved  in  the  business  of  each 
— hornin  enim  omnium  negotiis  intricatus  et  implicatus 
sum,)  and  promised  to  bring  Alexander  the  Great,  Au- 
gustine, and  any  other  good  thing  which  he  could  lay 
his  hands  on.  "  I  know,"  he  says,  "  that  my  Lord  Abbot 
told  you  not  to  send  for  me  without  necessity,  and  he 
said  the  same  thing  to  me;  but  there  is  necessity,  the 
greatest  necessity,  to  see  you,  however  busy  I  may  be. 
What  need   of   many   words?     Order    me   to   come." 


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


438  PETER    OF    CLUGNI,  [NO.  XXV. 

Peter  wrote  as  he  was  desired  to  all  the  parties ;  and 
his  letter  to  Bernard  is  characteristic  and  worth  tran- 
scribing : — 

"  If  it  be  lawful  to  complain  of  a  friend,  and  of  such  a 
friend,  I  do  complain ;  and  I  say  what  was  once  said  to  a 
certain  person,  '  Father,  if  thy  friend  had  bid  thee  do  some 
great  thing,  surely  thou  shouldst  have  done  it ;'  how  much 
more  then  when,  first  by  writing,  and  then  by  word  of  mouth, 
he  bade,  entreated,  with  familiar  boldness  ordered — '  Send 
your  Nicholas  to  Clugny1?  I  do  not  deny  that  the  thing 
itself  is  great ;  but  it  is  no  great  journey.  What  if  you  had 
only  once  written  to  me,  '  send  me1  this,  or  that  person,  or 
ever  so  many?  What  should  I — I  say,  what  should  I  do, 
but  what  I  am  wont  to  do  ?  I  am  in  the  habit  not  only  of 
granting  your  requests,  but  of  obeying  your  orders.  But 
you  want  to  know  my  reason.  Is  it  not  reason  enough,  to 
see  a  person  whom  one  loves  ?  He  is  yours  indeed,  but  he 
is  very  dear  to  me,  and  are  you  not  pleased  with  my  liking 
what  belongs  to  you  ?  Does  it  not  please  you  that  one  whom 
I  believe  you  love  more  than  many  who  belong  to  you,  should 
be  still  more  dear  to  me?  And  what  greater  proof  of  true 
friendship  is  there  than  to  love  what  my  friend  loves  ?  I  love 
him  for  his  own  sake,  and  for  yours  too.  For  your  sake, 
because  he  is  attached  to  you ;  for  his  own  sake,  because 
ever  since  the  time  of  the  Lord  Bishop  of  Troyes  he  deserved 
it  on  many  grounds.  Hitherto  I  have  made  him  no  recom- 
pence  for  all  these  things,  except  that  I  have  always  sincerely 
loved  him  in  the  Lord.  While  others  make  a  practice  of 
repaying  one  service  or  benefit  by  another,  would  it  not  seem 
beyond  all  measure  ungrateful  in  me  to  deny  to  one  who 
loves  me  such  kindness  as  costs  nothing?  Is  it  strange  if, 
in  order  to  prove  to  him  that  this  kindness  does  not  wholly 
evaporate  in  written  representations  of  words,  I  desire  at 
least  once  a  year  to  see  him,  to  talk  with  him,  to  delight 
myself  in  the  Lord  with  him  concerning  those  writings  both 
sacred  and  philosophical,  of  which  he  is  full  to  the  brim  ?  If 
it  is  not  idle  to  converse  of  God,  of  divine  things,  of  those 
which  are  most  profitable  to  the  soul,  then  Nicholas's  visit  is 
not  an  idle  one.  If  the  cultivation  of  personal  regard  for  you 
in  our  own  hearts,  if  the  commendation  of  your  order  to  all 


NO.  XXV.]       AND    THE    SECRETARY    NICHOLAS.  439 

men,  if  at  length  to  unite  your  whole  body  to  our  congrega- 
tion with  the  cement  of  charity,  is  idle,  then  Nicholas's  visit 
is  an  idle  one.  His  heart  is  always  inditing  some  good  mat- 
ter of  you  and  yours  ;  he  seeks  the  good  of  his  people  ;  he 
prays  for  the  peace  of  Jerusalem.  These  are  the  ridiculous, 
vain,  frivolous  occasions  of  Nicholas  with  us.  Why,  then, 
my  dearest  friend,  cannot  he  be  granted  to  me  for  a  month, 
when  I,  from  mere  affection,  gave  up  to  you  Peter  and 
Robert  your  kinsmen,  and  Garner,  and  others,  not  for  a 
month,  but  for  ever  ?  How  many  abbots,  how  many  monks, 
have  I  granted  to  other,  not  to  say  strange,  monasteries, 
(aliis,  ne  dicam  alienis,  ecclesiis,)  under  the  influence  of  your 
letters  and  counsels  ?  Nor  do  I  repent  of  having  yielded  to 
my  friend,  to  whom  I  am  prepared  to  yield  a  great  deal 
more.  But  it  is  right  that  he  should  make  a  return  ;  it  is 
right  that,  to  one  who  is  always  giving  up  to  him,  he  should 
yield  something.  This  thing  is  more  profitable  to  your  con- 
gregation than  to  us ;  for  there  is  no  person,  unless  it  be 
yourself,  venerable  man,  there  is,  I  say,  no  person  through 
whose  advocacy  they  could  more  persuasively  plead  their 
cause,  and  no  hook  with  which  they  could  more  effectively 
fish  in  the  sea  or  in  the  river  of  Clugny. 

"  But  I  remember  that  when  your  holiness  was  at  Clugny 
lately,  you  said,    '  What  do   you   want  with  Nicholas  V      I 
answered,  '  It  is  of  no  consequence,  no  great  matter.1     But 
I   confess  to  you,  dearest  friend — if  I   sinned,   forgive  me — 
they  were  rather  the  words  of  wounded  feeling  than  of  truth. 
Truly    I  was  then  deceitful.      I  know  not  how  it  happened, 
for  it  is  not  often  the  case  with  me,  that  I  used  deceitful  lan- 
guage.    I   had  one  thing   in   my  heart,  and  another  on  my 
tongue.      This   is  what  my  mind  tacitly   suggested,    'Why 
should  you  repeat  your  wishes  so  often?      Perhaps,   as  you 
have  been  denied  your  request  twice  before,  you  may  now  be 
denied  a  third  time.     You  have  asked,  and  have  not  been 
listened   to ;    why   should   you   go   on    entreating  V      I    felt 
inclined  to  answer,  as  the  man  born  blind  did  to  the  Phari- 
sees,   '  I  have  told  you  already,  and  you   have  heard  ;    why 
would  you  hear  it  again  f      I   was   inclined  to  answer  thus, 
but  I  did  not  like  to  do  it.     Now,  you  see,   I  confess.     Let 
my   confession   avail   me — let    it   avail  me   that    I  have  not 
covered  the  truth  with  a  veil  of  falsehood — let  it  avail  me 


440  THE    SECRETARY    NICHOLAS.         [NO.  XXVI. 

that,  as  it  is  said  all  is  naked  among  friends,  so  I  have 
stripped  before  my  friend  what  was  disguised  in  my  bosom. 
Let  it,  I  say,  avail  me — but  for  what  I  That  you  should  take 
anything  for  my  sake  out  of  your  barns  ?  or  anything  out  of 
your  cellars  ?  that  you  should  diminish  your  treasures  of 
gold  and  silver,  if  you  had  them?  What  then?  That  you 
should  send  Nicholas  ;  and  not  only  now,  but  whenever  I 
shall  send  for  him .  For  I  will  take  care,  as  far  as  possible, 
not  to  ask  anything  that  can  be  reasonably  denied,  or  which 
may  in  any  way  annoy  you,  not  to  say  myself.  Let  it  be, 
then,  let  it  be,  as  I  wish,  that  Nicholas  may  spend  next 
Easter  with  us,  and,  according  to  his  custom,  pour  out  your 
heart  to  me,  and  mine  on  his  return  to  you.11 


No.  XXVI. 


"  I  can  only  say,  in  the  praise  of  Peter,  that  his  manners  were  gentle, 
his  temper  very  mild  and  humane,  and  that  he  had  what  in  common  lan- 
guage is  concisely  called  a  good  heart." — Milner. 

We  must  not,  however,  lose  sight  of  books  in  this  cor- 
respondence, for  so  did  not  even  the  Secretary  Nicho- 
las, who  was  so  much  occupied  by  it :  in  addition  to  all 
his  business,  as  the  abbot's  amanuensis,  he  had  what 
Mabillon  calls  a  "  librorum  commercium  "  with  various 
persons.  Thus,  in  his  thirty-fourth  letter,  addressed  to 
Amedeus,  Bishop  of  Lausanne,  he  says,  "  I  send  you 
the  book  of  Master  Anselm,  well  pointed,  if  I  mistake 
not,  and  corrected."  By  another  letter,  it  appears  that 
he  used  to  lend  books  on  condition  that  a  copy  should 
be  returned  with  the  volume  lent.  When  Peter  of 
Celle  had  borrowed  two  volumes  of  St.  Bernard's 
works,  he  wrote  to  him,  "  Make  haste  and  quickly  copy 
these,  and  send  them  to  me  ;  and,  according  to  my 
bargain,  cause  a  copy  to  be  made  for  me.  And  both 
those  which  \  have  sent  to  you,  and  the  copies,  as  T 


NO.  XXVI.]  "COMMERCIUM    LIBBORUM."  441 

have  said,  send  to  me,  and  take  care  that  I  do  not  lose 
a  single  tittle."  Writing  to  the  Dean  of  Troves,  he 
says,  "  Send  me  the  Epistles  of  the  Bishop  of  Le  Mans, 
for  I  want  to  copy  them;"  and,  indeed,  he  seems  to 
have  had  a  constant  eye  to  the  acquisition  and  multi- 
plication of  books.  When  Philip,  prior  of  the  cathe- 
dral church  of  Cologne,  and  the  emperor's  chancellor, 
was  going  to  Jerusalem,  he  put  in  for  his  "  noble 
library,"  which  he  had  so  wonderfully  and  incomparably 
collected,  assuring  him  that  his  poor  brethren  would 
pray  for  his  prosperous  voyage1. 

But,  to  say  the  truth  of  the  Secretary  Nicholas — and 
I  suppose  it  ought  to  be  said  of  him,  as  well  as  of  other 
people,  and  it  may  as  well  be  said  in  plain  terms, 
though  I  am  sorry  to  be  obliged  to  use  them — he  was 
a  great  rogue.  Enjoying,  as  he  did,  the  most  affec- 
tionate confidence  of  these  two  good  abbots,  and  pro- 
fessing the  greatest  attachment  to  them,  and  the  high- 
est reverence  for  those  things  which  they  held  most 
sacred,  he  was  a  hypocrite,  a  cheat,  and  a  thief.  I  am 
afraid  that  I  do  not  exaggerate  the  fact,  and  that  he 
might  be  called  with  peculiar  propriety  "  graphicum 
furem."  But  then  how  far  the  inconsiderate  and  con- 
fiding  kindness    of  his    patrons   conduced   to   spoil   a 


1  As  to  this  "  commercium  librorum,"  (see  before,  pp.  54,  55,  56,)  it 
would  be  easy  to  multiply  illustrations  and  examples.  One  offers  itself 
immediately  in  a  letter  of  the  abbot  Peter  to  Guigo,  prior  of  Chartreuse,  in 
which  he  tells  him  that,  according  to  his  direction,  he  had  sent  him  the 
lives  of  those  saints,  Nazianzen  and  Chrysostom,  and  Ambrose  against 
Symmachus.  That  he  had  not  sent  Hilary's  work  on  the  Psalms,  because 
he  found  the  same  fault  in  their  copy  as  was  in  the  prior's,  but  that  if, 
knowing  that,  he  still  wished  for  it,  he  would  send  it.  That  they  had 
not  got  Prosper  against  Cassian,  but  he  had  sent  into  Aquitaine  for  it,  and 
would,  if  needful,  send  again.  He  begs  him  to  send  the  greater  volume 
of  St.  Augustine,  containing  the  letters  which  passed  between  him  and 
St.  Jerome,  because  a  great  part  of  their  copy,  while  lying  at  one  of  their 
cells,  had  been  eaten  by  a  bear  (casu  comedit  ursus). — Lib.  I.  Ep.  xxiv. 
Bib.  Clun.  653.— See  Note  F. 


442  BERNARD    OF    CLAIRVAUX's  [NO.  XXV J. 

clever,  conceited,  ambitious  young  man,  is  more  than  I 
can  pretend  to  say.  Certain  it  is,  however,  that  when 
Peter  was  writing  of  Nicholas,  in  the  affectionate  terms 
which  I  have  quoted  in  the  preceding  number,  or,  at 
the  utmost,  very  soon  after,  Bernard  had  begun  to 
suspect  him  of  duplicity  and  fraud.  In  a  letter  to  the 
Pope,  principally  about  the  Archbishop  of  Rheims,  Ber- 
nard says,  "  We  have  been  in  peril  by  false  brethren, 
and  many  forged  letters,  under  counterfeits  of  our  seals, 
have  gone  forth  into  the  hands  of  many.  And  (what 
I  am  more  afraid  of)  it  is  said  that  the  deception  has 
extended  to  you.  Thus  compelled,  I  have  laid  aside 
that  seal,  and  use  the  new  one  which  you  see,  contain- 
ing both  a  figure  of  me  and  my  name.  The  other 
seal,  therefore,  you  will  not  receive  as  coming  from  me, 
except  in  the  matter  of  the  Bishop  of  Clermont,  to 
whom  I  gave  a  letter  sealed  with  the  other  seal,  because 
I  had  not  then  got  this  one 2." 

In  another  letter  to  the  pope,  of  the  same  year,  Ber- 
nard speaks  more  plainly — "That  Nicholas  has  gone 
forth  from  us,  because  he  was  not  of  us ;  and  he  has 
gone  out,  too,  leaving  very  dirty  footmarks  behind  him. 
And  I  had  seen  through  the  man  a  long  time,  but  I 
waited  in  the  expectation  that  either  God  would  con- 
vert him,  or  that  he,  like  Judas,  would  betray  himself: 
and  that  has  happened.  Beside  books,  money,  and  a 
good  deal  of  gold,  there  were  found  upon  him  when  he 
went  away ;  three  seals — his  own,  the  prior's,  and  one 
of  mine,  and  that  not  the  old,  but  the  new  one  which 
I  had  been  lately  forced,  by  his  tricks  and  rogueries,  to 
alter.  This  is  what,  I  remember,  I  wrote  to  you  about, 
without  mentioning  any  name,  only  saying  that  we 
were  in  peril  by  false  brethren.  Who  can  say  to  how 
many  persons  he  has  written  just  what  he  pleased,  in 

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


NO.  XXVI.]  SECRETARY    NICHOLAS.  443 

my  name,  but  without  my  knowledge  ?  I  would  that 
your  court  may  be  thoroughly  purified  from  the  defile- 
ment of  his  falsehoods.  I  would  that  the  innocence  of 
those  about  me  may  be  able  to  clear  itself  with  those 
whom  he  has  deceived  and  prejudiced  by  his  most  im- 
pudent lies.  It  has  been  partly  proved,  and  he  has 
partly  confessed,  that  he  more  than  once  wrote  to  you 
in  this  fraudulent  manner.  As  to  his  vile  tricks,  with 
which  the  country  is  filled,  so  that  we  are  a  byeword 
to  everybody,  I  feel  it  unnecessary  to  pollute  my  own 
lips  or  your  ears.  If  he  comes  to  you,  (for  he  boasts  of 
doing  so,  and  is  confident  on  the  strength  of  his  having 
friends  in  the  court,)  remember  Arnold  of  Brescia,  for 
a  greater  than  Arnold  is  here.  No  man  is  more 
worthy  of  perpetual  imprisonment — nothing  could  be 
more  just  to  him  than  the  imposition  of  perpetual 
silence 3." 

Whether  Nicholas  ever  made  any  such  appeal  as  he 
threatened  does  not  appear ;  but  if  he  did,  it  certainly 
was  not  followed  by  the  consequences  which  Bernard 
suggests,  for  he  was  living  many  years  after  as  a  monk 
in  his  old  monastery  of  Montier  Ramey,  as  appears  by 
a  letter  which  we  have  from  him  to  William,  Arch- 
bishop of  Rheims,  who  did  not  attain  that  dignity  till 
the  year  1176  4. 

But  let  us  (as  Bernard  did)  abruptly  dismiss  Nicho- 
las,  and   look  at   the  Abbot  of  Clugni's  own  notary, 


3  Ep.  ccxcviii.  The  Cistercians  were  more  cautious  at  a  later  period. 
Among  the  Statuta  Selecta  of  the  General  Chapter  of  that  Order, 
in  a.d.  1223,  we  find  the  following: — "Abbas  de  Ponte-Obran,  qui 
literas  quas  non  inspexit  sigillavit,  tribus  diebus  sit  in  levi  culpa,  uno 
eorum  in  pane  et  aqua  :  et  monachus  qui  ei  litteras  obtulit,  eadem  poena 
puniatur,  et  in  Capitulo  vapulet." — No.  xxiii.  ap.  Mart.  IV.  1337. 

4  The  reader  will,  I  believe,  find  most  of  the  particulars  relating  to 
Nicholas,  for  which  I  have  not  otherwise  accounted,  in  Mabillon's  dis- 
course, "  De  Nicolao  sancti  Bernardi  Notario,"  prefixed  to  the  third  tome 
of  his  edition  of  St.  Bernard's  works,  Vol.  i.  712. 


1> 


444  PETER    Or    C'LLGNI  [NO.  XXVI. 

Peter  of  Poictiers,  who  was  afterwards  grand  prior  of 
Clugni,  and  who  seems  to  have  shared,  and  better 
deserved,  the  affectionate  kindness  of  Peter  the  Vene- 
rable. I  was  originally  led  to  mention  this  abbot  by  a 
reference  to  one  of  his  letters  bearing  on  the  question 
of  monastic  studies,  and  shewing  his  opinion  as  to  what 
monks  ought  to  read.  In  what  sort  of  books  his  own 
"  commerce"  lay,  may  in  some  degree  appear  from  what 
I  have  just  given  in  a  note ;  and  his  doctrine  on  the 
subject  will  appear  from  the  following  letter ;  though, 
not  having  Martene's  book  at  hand,  I  am  not  sure 
whether  it  is  that  to  which  he  refers : — 

"  To  his  beloved  son  Master  Peter,  Brother  Peter  the 
humble  Abbot  of  Clugni  wishes  the  seeing  eye  and 
the  hearing  ear : 

"  Pitying  you,  my  most  beloved  son,  labouring  as  you  are 
in  acquiring  the  knowledge  of  secular  literature,  and  bur- 
thened  with  the  heavy  load  of  profane  studies,  and  foreseeing 
no  reward  for  your  labour,  no  relief  for  your  burthen,  I  grieve 
to  think  that  you  are  spending  your  time  in  vain.  For,  if 
the  single  and  definite  object  of  the  true  philosopher  is  to 
learn  wherein  real  blessedness  consists,  and  having  learned 
that,  to  attain  to  it,  so  that  instead  of  being  miserable  he 
may  be  blessed, — and  if  that  is  not  worthy  to  be  called  bless- 
edness in  which  any  good  thing  is  wanting,  but  that  the 
summum  bonum  is  a  blessed  eternity, — who  will  dare  to  say 
that  he  is  a  philosopher  who,  by  all  his  labours,  is  not 
advancing  to  eternal  blessedness,  but  to  eternal  misery? 
The  wise  men  of  antiquity  laboured  in  a  search  after  this 
blessedness,  and  set  to  work  vigorously  to  bring  to  light  what 
was  hidden  in  profound  depths,  as  it  were  from  the  very 
bowels  of  the  earth.  Hence  the  invention  of  arts,  hence  the 
multiplied  perplexities  of  argumentation,  hence  the  innume- 
rable dissensions  of  sects  disputing  with  each  other  \f  some 
of  which  placed  happiness  in  sensual  pleasures,  others  in  the 
capabilities  of  the  soul,  others  thought  it  was  to  be  sought 
in  something  above  man,  others  with  some  other  opinion 
opposed  them  all.  ■ 


NO.   XXVI.]  TO    PETER    OF    POICTIERS.  44.") 

"  Seeing  that  these  erred,  and  that  thev  were  seeking 
among  things  below  for  those  which  are  hidden  above,  and 
that  mortals  in  this  world  were  straying  in  the  confusion 
of  falsehood,  Truth,  looking  from  heaven,  and  compassion- 
ating their  miserv,  arose  from  the  earth  ;  and  having  taken  the 
likeness  of  sinful  flesh,  in  order  to  render  Himself  visible  to 
such  creatures,  He  cried  to  those  labouring  under  these  and 
the  like  evils,  '  Come  unto  me,  all  ye  that  labour  and  are 
heavy  laden,  and  I  will  give  you  rest ;  take  my  yoke  upon 
you."1  And,  because  he  saw  that  they  were  tied  and  bound 
by  deep  ignorance  of  truth,  assuming  the  character  of  a 
teacher,  he  added,  '  Learn  of  me,  for  I  am  meek  and  lowly. 
and  ye  shall  find  rest  to  your  souls.1  And,  in  his  sermon  on 
the  mount,  he  plainly  taught  not  only  where  true  blessed- 
ness is  to  be  found,  but  also  the  means  by  which  it  is  to  be 
obtained  ;  and  at  once  put  down  the  curious  trifling  of  those 
who  are  searching  after  happiness,  saying,  '  Blessed  are  the 
poor  in  spirit,  for  theirs  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven." 

44  See  now.  without  the  study  of  Plato,  without  the  dis- 
putations of  the  Academy,  without  the  subtleties  of  Aristotle, 
without  the  teaching  of  philosophers,  the  place  and  the  way 
of  happiness  are  discovered.  Let  human  presumption,  then, 
be  silent,  now  that  the  Divine  Master  has  been  heard.  Let 
Falsehood  hold  its  peace,  for  Truth  teaches.  Let  man  quit 
the  teacher's  chair,  for  the  God-man  sits  down  to  teach — 
4  Blessed,1  saith  he,  4  are  the  poor  in  spirit,  for  theirs  is  the 
kingdom  of  heaven."  Why  is  it  then,  my  most  dearly  beloved, 
that  you  run  from  school  to  school  I  Why  are  you  labouring 
to  teach  and  to  be  taught  ?  Why  is  it  that  you  are  seeking, 
through  thousands  of  words  and  multiplied  labours,  what 
you  might,  if  you  pleased,  obtain  in  plain  language,  and  with 
little  labour  1  Why,  vainly  studious,  are  you  reciting  with 
the  comedians,  lamenting  with  the  tragedians,  trifling  with 
the  metricians,  deceiving  with  the  poets,  and  deceived  with 
the  philosophers  I  Why  is  it  that  you  are  now  taking  so 
much  trouble  about  what  is  not  philosophy,  but  should  rather 
(if  I  may  do  it  without  offence)  be  called  foolishness.  I  say, 
foolishness  ;  for  this  is  the  declaration  of  the  true  philoso- 
pher— 4  Hath  not  God  made  foolish  the  wisdom  of  the  world  '.' 
Run,  then,  my  son,  to  that  blessedness  of  the  kingdom  of 
heaven  which  is  proposed  to  vou  by  the  heavenly   Master,  a- 


446  I'KTER    OF    CLUGNI  [NO.  XXVI. 

the  one  single  fruit  of  all  philosophy,  and  which  you  cannot 
obtain  except  by  true  poverty  of  spirit.  For,  as  I  have 
already  said,  the  true  Master,  presiding  in  the  school  of  the 
whole  world,  and  overthrowing  the  seats  of  the  false  teachers, 
has  declared  him  that  is  poor  in  spirit  to  be  blessed,  because 
for  him  is  laid  up  the  highest  blessedness,  that  is,  the  kingdom 
of  heaven. 

"  Enter  the  way  of  poverty,  which  leads  to  the  blessed- 
ness of  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  Enter,  I  say,  the  way  of 
poverty,  not  so  much  of  the  body  as  of  the  soul ;  not  so 
much  of  possessions  as  of  humility ;  not  so  much  of  the 
flesh  as  of  the  mind.  You  will  then  be  the  true  philoso- 
pher of  Christ,  when  he  shall  have  made  the  wisdom  of  the 
world  foolishness  in  you.  For,  according  to  the  same  apostle,  **~^ 
if  you  will  be  wise,  become  a  fool,  that  you  may  be  wise. 
And  do  not  glory  in  your  knowledge  of  the  vain  talk  of  logic, 
or  the  curious  trifling  of  physics,  or  in  knowing  anything  else 
but  Jesus  Christ  and  him  crucified.  If,  through  his  gift,  you 
attain  to  this,  there  will  be  joy  over  you  among  the  angels  of 
God,  who  rejoice  over  every  sinner  who  repents,  and  there 
will  be  much  joy  among  the  saints,  for  when  one  member 
rejoices,  all  the  members  rejoice  with  it.  And  to  me  it  will 
be  a  joy  beyond  everything ;  for  I  will  receive  you  as  an  only 
son, — I  will  nourish  you  with  the  milk  of  piety, — I  will 
cherish  you  in  the  bosom  of  love, —  I  will  bring  you  up 
among  the  little  ones  of  Christ ;  among  the  multitude  of 
recruits  I  will  arm  you  with  heavenly  weapons,  and,  as  far  as 
1  can,  will  animate  you  to  the  spiritual  warfare,  and  will  fight 
by  your  side  against  the  enemy.  We  shall  have  help  from 
above,  that  as  fellow-soldiers  in  the  heavenly  camp  we  may 
conquer  the  enemy,  and,  conquering,  may  be  crowned ;  and, 
truly  philosophizing,  may  arrive  at  the  true  object  of  philoso- 
phy— eternal  blessedness." 

How  these  promises  were  performed  by  the  kind  and 
warm-hearted  abbot,  and  how  affectionately  he  was 
attached  to  this  son,  we  may  learn  from  a  letter  which 
he  wTote  to  him  when  he  had  permitted  him  to  go  and 
reside  elsewhere,  (I  presume  at  some  cell  belonging  to 
Clugni,)  and  missed  him  so  much  that  he  repented  of 
the  leave  which  he  had  given.     It  is  long,  but  some 


NO.  XXVI.]  TO    PETER    OF    POICTIERS.  447 

part  is  so  characteristic  of  the  writer,  and  otherwise  so 
illustrative  of  our  subject,  that  I  must  give  an  extract. 
After  saying  a  good  deal  about  the  elevated  situation  of 
his  retirement,  and  reminding  him  of  the  purposes  for 
which  Moses  ascended  the  mount,  and  our  Lord  went 
up  into  the  mountain,  the  abbot  adds — 

"  Since  then,  most  dear  son,  in  going  up  into  a  mountain, 
and  in  solitary  retirement,  you  do,  according  to  the  grace 
given  you,  imitate  the  Lord  and  his  servant,  see  that  you  do 
as  far  as  you  can  imitate  them  in  other  things  ;  that,  as  I  have 
met  your  good  desires  by  providing  for  you  the  peace  of  soli- 
tude, so  you  may  procure  some  alleviation  of  my  labours  by 
your  prayers.  For  to  that  affection  with  which,  as  you  know, 
I  embrace  you  in  the  love  of  Christ  with  my  whole  soul,  you 
owre,  not  only  your  prayers,  but  (as  St.  Paul  said  to  Philemon) 
your  own  self  also.  What,  indeed,  do  you  not  owe  to  me, 
you  whom  I  have  loved  almost  beyond  any  other  ?  What 
do  you  not  owe  to  me,  who  never  thought  more  even  of  my- 
self than  of  you  ?  And  it  is  no  wonder  that  you  have  gained 
this  place  in  my  regard,  when  it  was  hardly  possible  for  me 
to  make  any  adequate  return  for  your  life  and  conversation. 
For,  to  say  nothing  of  your  other  virtues,  where  or  at  what 
price  shall  I  ever  be  able  to  procure  anybody  so  assimilated 
and  conformed  to  my  own  ways  I  If  I  wanted  to  investigate 
any  of  the  deep  things  of  holy  scripture,  I  always  found  you 
most  ready  and  prepared.  If  I  wanted  to  look  out  anything 
in  profane  literature,  (for  the  sake  of  that  which  is  sacred,) 
I  found  you  prompt  and  shrewd.  If  our  talk  happened  to 
be  (as  our  most  familiar  talk  most  frequently  was)  on  the 
contempt  of  the  world  and  the  love  of  heavenly  things,  your 
words  seemed  so  separate  from  earthly  things,  and  so  full  of 
immortality,  that  you  appeared  to  be  saying  to  me,  '  That 
my  mouth  speak  not  the  works  of  men  V  And  me,  coming 
from  worldly  occupations,  and,  as  it  were,  frozen  up  with  the 
cold  of  the  north  wind,  they  thawed  as  with  the  warmth  of 
the  southern  breeze,  in  such  a  way,  and  so  melted  me  by  the 
heat  of  their  breath  into  divine  love,  that  even  to  them  the 


Ps.  xvi.  4. — Douay. 


448  PETER    OF    CLUGNI  [NO.  XXVI. 

words  of  the  Psalmist  might  be  applied — '  Send  forth  thy 
word,  and  thou  shalt  melt  them ;  his  breath  hath  blown,  and 
the  waters  shall  flow 6 ;' — and  I  may  sing  with  the  spouse  in 
the  Canticles,  '  My  soul  melted  as  my  beloved  spake  V  All 
things  were  wearisome  to  me,  I  felt  everything  a  burden,  I 
was  groaning  like  one  bowed  down  under  a  heavy  load  of 
punishment.  I  was  like  those  of  whom  we  read  in  Job, 
4  Behold,  the  giants  groan  under  the  waters  V  I  had  no  rest, 
no  relief  from  anybody,  until  my  very  necessity  suggested  to 
me  to  go  to  you.  But  as  soon  as  I  could  get  a  little  leisure 
with  you,  and  have,  if  only  a  little,  conversation,  I  rose  up 
again  with  renewed  powers,  and  more  alacrity,  to  my  labours, 
like  one  strengthened  with  much  meat,  and  you  had  per- 
formed that  divine  injunction,  '  If  thou  shalt  see  thy  neigh- 
bour's ass  fallen  in  the  way,  thou  shalt  not  pass  by,  but  thou 
shalt  help  with  him  V  By  your  care,  undoubtedly,  like  the 
cable  of  an  anchor,  (as  Gregory  says)  I  was  prevented  from 
being  driven  out  to  sea  by  contrary  winds,  and,  though  much 
tossed,  kept  into  the  shore. 

"  Have  you  forgotten  these  frequent  and  earnest  conver- 
sations? Have  you  forgotten  my  tears  and  lamentations 
over  my  personal  dangers  I  Have  you  lost  all  recollection 
of  the  frequent  repulses  with  which  you  met  my  desire  to 
fly  from  all  earthly  things  and  devote  myself  entirely  to 
God  \  Oh,  how  often,  when  the  door  was  shut,  and  every 
mortal  excluded,  and  He  alone  who  is  always  in  the 
midst  of  those  who  think  or  speak  of  Him  was  witness, 
have  we  held  awful  discourse  on  the  blindness  of  the  human 
heart  and  its  hardness ;  on  the  snares  of  various  sins  ;  on 
the  different  kinds  of  crafts  of  demons ;  of  the  depths  of 
God's  judgments,  and  '  how  terrible  in  counsels  over  the 
children  of  men  V  that  on  whom  he  will  he  hath  mercy,  and 
whom  he  will  he  hardeneth,  and  that  man  knows  not  whether 


6  Ps.  cxlvii.  "  He  shall  send  forth  his  word,  and  shall  melt  them  :  his 
Spirit  shall  blow,  and  waters  shall  flow." — Douay. 

7  Cant.  v.  6.     "  My  soul  melted  as  he  spake." — Douay. 

8  Job  xxvi.  5. 

9  Exod.  xxiii.  5.  "  If  thou  see  the  ass  of  him  that  hateth  thee  lie  under- 
neath his  burden,  thou  shalt  not  pass  by,  but  shalt  lift  him  up  with  the 
same." — Douay. 

1  Ps.  lxv.  5. — Douay. 


X().    XXVI.]  TO    PETER    OF    POICTIERS.  449 

he  is  counted  worthy  of  love  or  hatred  ;  of  our  uncertain  and 
fearful  calling :  of  the  scheme  of  man's  salvation  wrought 
out  by  the  incarnation  and  passion  of  the  Son  of  God ;  of 
the  tremendous  day  of  the  final  judgment,  of  the  incompre- 
hensible severity  of  the  divine  trial  whereby  he  punishes  the 
wicked  everlastingly,  and  the  unspeakable  mercy  wherewith 
he  gives  eternal  rewards  to  the  good. 

"  Conversation  on  these  and  similar  subjects,  when  the  noise 
of  the  world  was  shut  out,  formed  a  sort  of  hermitage  for  me 
in  the  midst  of  men,  and  was  like  the  tabernacle  of  the  Lord, 
to  which  (like  Moses  from  the  stones  of  the  Jews)  I  fled  for 
refuge  from  the  tumult  of  the  world.  Tired  with  the  litiga- 
tion  of  men  and  the  arguments  of  law-suits,  here  I  rested. 
Worried  about  the  petty  cares  of  domestic  management,  and 
worn  out  with  various  dissensions,  here  I  was  refreshed. 
Annoyed  by  the  irruption  of  those  who  spoiled  us,  by  the 
slaughter  of  our  people,  by  the  devastation  of  various  places, 
here  I  put  off  my  sadness.  The  spots  contracted  from  the 
filth  of  the  world,  I  here  washed  away,  and  purged  out  the 
old  leaven  which  is  opposed  to  the  unleavened  bread  of  sin- 
cerity and  truth.  And,  what  need  of  many  words  I  Truly, 
according  to  Isaiah,  this  tabernacle  was  to  me  '  a  shadow  in 
the  daytime  from  the  heat,  and  for  a  place  of  refuge,  and  for 
a  covert  from  storm  and  from  rain.1 

"  Nor  was  this  only  here  at  home,  but  wherever  I  went. 
You  were  my  companion.  This,  as  we  travelled  together 
through  various  parts,  neither  the  scorching  sun,  nor  the 
freezing  north-wind,  nor  the  tempest,  nor  the  cloudy  day, 
nor  the  muddy  earth,  nor  the  steep  mountains,  nor  the  deep 
valleys,  could  deprive  us  of.  Everywhere,  when  the  waves 
of  the  great  sea  were  a  little  still,  this  secret  place  remained 
to  us.  I  had  you  so  unanimous  in  all  things,  I  was  so  sure 
that  what  I  found  in  my  own  mind  was  in  yours  also,  that 
in  you,  almost  alone  and  without  exception,  I  found  that 
friendship  which  is  truly  defined  as  identity  of  will ;  so  that 
nothing  could  possibly  please  me  which  was  displeasing  to 
you,  nor  displease  me  if  agreeable  to  you, — according  to  what 
we  read,  that  a  certain  person  once  said,  there  were  not  two 
souls  to  two  bodies,  but  one  soul  seemed  to  inhabit  both. 
But  if  such  affection  could  exist  among  those  who  knew  not 
God,  as  that,   without  confounding   the  substance   and    only 


450  PETER    OF    CLUGNI  [NO.  XXVI. 

uniting  the  will  they  could  express  such  an  idea  as  this,  what 
wonder  is  it  if  the  love  of  God,  which  is  shed  abroad  in 
men's  hearts  by  the  Holy  Spirit,  hath  united  us  in  Him 
who  maketh  of  both  one,  and  who  said  to  his  Father,  of  his 
disciples,  '  that  they  may  be  one,  as  we  are  V 

"  But  it  is  time  to  begin  complaining,  that  I  may  bring 
forth  that  wherewith  I  have  so  long  travailed.  For  you, 
you,  I  say,  have  offended  against  this  love ;  you  have  severed 
this  divine  union ;  you  have  rescinded  this  heavenly  contract, 
when,  as  a  friend,  your  friend ;  as  an  intimate,  your  intimate  ; 
and  (to  come  to  the  language  of  authority)  as  a  subject,  your 
superior  ;  as  a  disciple,  your  master  ;  as  a  monk,  your  abbot ; 
not  to  say  as  a  servant,  your  lord,  has  been  deserted  by  you. 
But  if  I  were  to  call  you  a  servant,  should  I  go  too  far  ?  for 
the  Rule  prescribes  that  a  monk  shall  submit  to  his  superior 
with  all  obedience.  If  with  all,  then  with  servile ;  but  with 
all,  therefore  with  servile  :  so  that  you  are  my  servant.  I 
complain  then  of  my  servant's  flying  from  his  master,  seek- 
ing out  a  lurking  place,  refusing  to  follow  him,  being  unwill- 
ing to  serve  him." 

But  there  are  two  more  folio  pages  of  this  letter,  and, 
instead  of  pursuing  it,  it  seems  more  to  our  purpose  to 
extract  part  of  another  to  a  monk  named  Gilbert,  of 
whom  I  am  sorry  that  I  know  little  more  than  that  he 
seems  to  have  adopted  a  very  secluded  (if  not  abso- 
lutely solitary)  life  in  some  remote  cell,  and  to  have 
written  to  the  Abbot  of  Clugni  for  advice  and  instruc- 
tion. If  I  pass  over  what  Peter  replied  in  the  way  of 
general  advice,  or  with  respect  to  the  peculiar  tempta- 
tions of  his  circumstances,  and  what  he  says  of  the 
employment  of  his  time  in  prayer  and  meditation,  it  is 
not  because  I  think  it  uninteresting,  or  less  scriptural 
or  sensible  than  what  he  might  have  written  if  he  had 
been  reserved  to  our  enlightened  age.  But,  in  fact,  the 
letter  fills  nearly  five  folio  pages,  and  one  must  select ; 
and  the  reader  will  remember  that  my  present  subject 
relates  more  directly  and  immediately  to  the  know- 
ledge, than  to  the  piety,  of  the  Dark  Ages.     Having 


NO.  XXVI.]  TO    GILBERT    THE    RECLUSE.  451 

spoken  of  prayer  and  meditation,  he  adds,  referring  to 
the  latter — 

"  But  since  she  [for  he  has  compared  her  to  a  handmaid, 
whose  mistress  is  Prayer]  is  wholly  spiritual,  she  requires 
the  support  of  something  else,  and  something  inferior,  and 
let  her  have  the  help  of  sacred  reading.  Refreshed  with  this, 
and  having  shut  her  book,  she  reflects  upon  what  she  has 
read,  and  after  long  reflection,  ministers  as  a  handmaid  to 
prayer.  For  as  the  fire,  when  the  fat  is  cast  into  it,  from 
receiving  that  rich  food,  breaks  forth  in  greater  flames,  so 
the  fervour  of  prayer,  enriched  by  the  fatness  of  meditation 
and  reading,  rises  to  the  greatest  heat  of  divine  love.  These 
are  the  dainties  of  the  king's  sons.  This  is  the  table  pre- 
pared by  the  mother,  Wisdom,  to  which,  crying  in  the 
streets,  she  invites  the  little,  not  the  great  ones,  saying,  4  If 
any  be  a  little  one,  let  him  come  to  me ; 1  and  again,  *  Come, 
eat  ye  my  bread,  and  drink  the  wine  which  I  have  mingled  V 
This  bread  no  man  eats  who  is  not  fasting  from  all  the  food 
of  man.  This  wine,  unless  he  abstains  from  all  other  drink, 
he  cannot  drink.  For,  according  to  St.  Gregory,  he  who 
feeds  on  sensual  pleasures  shall  be  counted  unworthy  of  those 
feasts  of  eternal  dainties. 

"  But  I  know,  my  most  dearly  beloved,  that  these  things 
are  difficult  of  attainment ;  and  that  it  is  not  easy  for  every 
body  to  pass  his  life  in  these  pursuits  only.  Let  these  three 
things,  therefore,  [that  is,  prayer,  meditation,  and  reading] 
be  followed  by  manual  labour ;  that  when  the  mind  is 
fatigued  with  spiritual  things,  and,  being  cast  down  by  the 
weight  of  the  flesh,  falls  from  the  highest  to  the  lowest 
things,  let  it  be  turned,  not  to  the  vain  conversation  of  men, 
but  to  a  blessed  exercise  of  the  body.  Trees  cannot  be 
planted,  fields  cannot  be  watered,  and  no  agricultural  work 
can  be  carried  on,  consistently  with  perpetual  seclusion  ;  but, 
what  is  more  useful,  instead  of  the  plough,  you  may  take  in 
hand  the  pen,  and  instead  of  marking  the  fields  with  furrows, 
you  may  score  page  after  page  with  sacred  letters,  and  the 
word  of  God  may  be  sown  in  the  parchment,  which,  when 
the  harvest  is  ripe,   that  is,   when  the  books  are  completed, 

-  Prov.  ix.  4,  5. — Douuy. 
Gg2 


452  GILBERT    THE    RECLUSE.  [NO.  XXVI. 

may  till  hungry  readers  with  abundant  fruits,  and  so  heavenly 
bread  may  dispel  the  deadly  famine  of  the  soul.  Thus 
plainly,  thus  you  may  become  a  silent  preacher  of  the  divine 
word ;  and  while  you  hold  your  tongue,  your  hand  will  sound 
aloud  with  uplifted  voice  in  the  ears  of  many  people.  You 
will  be  shut  up  in  your  hiding-place,  while  in  your  books  you 
traverse  sea  and  land.  Like  the  watchman  from  the  high- 
place,  you  will  cry  aloud  by  the  mouth  of  the  reader  in  the 
public  assemblies  of  the  church,  and  whisper  the  same 
things  to  the  silent  servants  of  God  in  the  recess  of  the 
cloister  and  the  corner  of  the  house.  Profession  will  have 
made  you  a  hermit, — devotion,  an  evangelist ;  so  that  what 
you  could  not  do  yourself,  you  may  do  by  your  labours.  Be 
encouraged  to  this  work  by  considering  the  great  reward  that 
will  accrue  to  you  on  account  of  all  whom  you  may  help  by 
this  praiseworthy  course.  For  all  who,  by  reading  your 
books,  have  conquered  pride,  subdued  luxury,  despised  ava- 
rice, restrained  wrath,  have  abstained  from  or  repented  of 
any  sins,  will  help  to  fill  the  barns  of  your  eternal  harvest,  as 
handfuls  gleaned  by  the  sweat  of  your  brow.  And  while,  for 
the  most  part,  the  works  of  men  end  with  their  lives,  and 
cease  when  they  do,  you  will  not  die  even  when  you  are 
dead ;  and  even  ceasing  to  live,  you  will  not  cease  to  do 
good,  while  by  your  works  you  are  recalling  the  dead  to  life. 
And  the  gain  of  your  good  works  in  the  sight  of  God  will  be 
extended  even  after  your  death,  as  long  as  (if  I  may  so  speak) 
the  life  of  your  books  endures. 

"  If,  however,  from  its  injuring  your  sight,  or  from  head- 
ache, or  from  its  wearisome  sameness,  you  cannot,  or  will  not, 
be  content  with  this  one  manual  employment,  make  a  variety 
by  other  handyworks.  Make  combs  for  combing  and  clean- 
ing the  heads  of  the  brethren ;  with  skilful  hand  and  well- 
instructed  foot,  turn  needle-cases,  hollow  out  vessels  for  wine, 
such  as  they  call  justitice,  or  others  like  them,  or  try  to  put 
them  together.  And  if  there  are  any  marshy  places  near, 
weave  mats  (an  ancient  monastic  employment)  on  which  you 
may  always,  or  frequently  sleep,  may  bedew  with  daily  or 
frequent  tears,  and  wear  out  with  frequent  genuflexion  before 
God  ;  or,  as  St.  Jerome  says,  weave  little  baskets  with  flags, 
or  make  them  of  wicker.  Filling  up  all  the  time  of  your 
blessed  life  with  these  and    similar   works   of  holy    purpose, 


NO.   XXVI.]  PETER    THE    VENERABLE.  453 

you  will  leave  no  room  for  your  adversaries  to  intrude  into 
your  heart,  or  into  your  cell ;  but  that,  when  God  hath  filled 
all  with  his  virtues,  there  shall  be  no  room  for  the  devil,  none 
for  sloth,  none  for  the  other  vices." 

I  cannot  help  hoping  and  believing  that  a  reader  (if 
I  am  so  happy  as  to  have  such  an  one)  who  has  can- 
didly considered  the  extracts  which  I  have  given  from 
the  letters  of  Peter  the  Venerable  will  have  formed  a 
less  despicable  opinion  of  him  than  he  would  have  done 
had  he  merely  known  him  by  the  brief  and  ignorant 
sneer  of  Milner.  Whatever  might  be  right  or  wrong 
in  Peter's  religion,  he  certainly  was  not  a  heartless 
formalist,  absorbed  in  frivolous  punctilios. 

But  I  hope,  too,  that  the  reader  has  not  been  misled 
to  think  (and  that  I  am  not  helping  the  delusion  by 
what  I  have  just  said)  that  I  am  taking,  and  giving 
him,  all  this  trouble  merely  with  a  view  to  defend  an 
individual  from  such  silly  censure.  If  that  were  my 
object,  I  should  not  wonder  if  I  might  be  able  to  shew 
a  probability  that  Peter  was  a  man,  if  not  of  more  cri- 
tical knowledge,  yet  not  deficient  in  secular  learning, 
and  certainly  of  more  extensive  reading,  and  real  know- 
ledge of  the  history  of  the  church  to  which  he  be- 
longed, than  the  historian  who  has  held  him  up,  not 
merely  to  scorn,  but  as  a  sort  of  proof  and  specimen  of 
the  barbarism  of  his  age.  If  I  were  his  panegyrist 
I  should  claim  some  respect  for  the  literary  enterprise 
(even  from  those  who  would  not  give  it  to  the  Chris- 
tian zeal)  of  the  man  who  gave  to  the  west  a  transla- 
tion of  the  Alcoran3.     I  should  express  my  belief  that 

3  In  a  letter  to  St.  Bernard,  from  which  I  have  already  quoted,  he  says — 
"  Misi  et  novam  translationem  nostram  contra  pessimam  nequam  Mahu- 
met  haeresim  disputantem,  quae  dum  nuper  in  Hispaniis  morarer  meo 
studio  de  lingua  Arabica  versa  est  in  Latinam.  Feci  autem  earn  transferri 
a  perito  utriusque  lingua?  viro,  Magistro  Petro  Toletano.  Sed  quia  lingua 
Latina  non  adeo  ei  familiaris  vel  nota  erat  ut  Arabica,  dedi  ci  coadjutorem 
doctura  virum  dilectum  filiuin,  et  fratrem  Petrum  notarium  nostrum,  reve- 


454  PETER    THE    VENERABLE.  [NO.  XXVI. 

his  Treatise  against  the  Jews  is  not  much  less  wise  and 
scriptural  than  what  many  persons  have  written  since, 
and  would  even  write  in  the  present  day  on  the  same 
subject ;  but  on  that  point,  or  any  other  relating  to 
rabbinical  polemics,  I  should  not  like  to  speak  positively, 
without  consulting  my  very  excellent  and  learned 
friend,  Dr.  M'Caul ;  and  of  his  poetry  (as  of  some  other 
good  men's)  I  should  say  nothing,  because  I  find  that 
compliments  to  their  sense,  and  piety,  and  good  inten- 
tion, are  not  generally  acceptable  to  poets. 

But  I  am  not  the  biographer  or  the  eulogist  of  the 
abbot  Peter  ;  and  I  say  so  much  about  him  just  for  two 
reasons, — first,  to  shew  the  reader,  and  to  beg  him  very 
seriously  to  consider,  how  history,  and  history  even  of 
the  most  sacred  character,  is  too  often  written.  If 
there  is  any  subject  which  should  make  the  historian's 
hand  tremble,  even  while  he  guides  the  pen  of  truth,  it 
is  the  church  of  Christ,  which  he  has  purchased  with 
his  blood,  which  is,  by  his  dispensation,  militant  here 
on  earth,  dispersed  through  this  naughty  world,  and 
every  page  of  whose  history  is  rendered  obscure  by  the 
craft  and  assaults  of  the  devil,  the  weakness  and  the 
wickedness  of  the  flesh,  the  friendship  and  the  enmity 
of  the  world,  the  sins  of  bad  men,  the  infirmities,  the 
follies,  the  fancies,  of  good  ones,  and  by  the  divine  ordi- 
nance that  it  shall  ever  be  a  body  consisting  of  many 
members,  often,  perhaps  always,  incapable  not  merely 


rentiae  vestrae,  ut  aestimo,  bene  cognitum.  Qui  verba  Latina  impolite  vel  con- 
fuse plerumque  ab  eo  prolata  poliens  et  ordinans  :  epistolam,  immo  libellum, 
multis,  ut  credo  propter  ignotarum  rerum  notitiam  perutilem  futurum  per- 
fecit.  Fuit  autem  in  transferendo  haec  mea  intentio,  ut  morem  ilium 
Patrum  sequerer,  quo  nullam  unquam  suorum  temporum  vel  levissimam, 
ut  sic  dicam,  haeresim  silendo  praeterirent :  quin  ei  totis  fidei  viribus  resis- 
terent,  et  scriptis  ac  disputationibus  esse  detestandam  ac  damnabilem 
demonstrarent,"  &c. — Lib.  IV.  Ep.  xvii.  Bib.  Clun.  843.  I  wonder  how 
many  people  at  this  time,  between  Hyde-park-corner  and  Whitechapel 
church,  know  more  of  the  Alcoran  than  Peter  and  his  secretary  did. 


NO.  XXVII.]  SCRIPTURE    KNOWLEDGE.  455 

of  executing,  but  of  appreciating,  the  office  of  each 
other.  Whatever  else  may  have  contributed  to  perpe- 
tuate and  increase  this  obscurity,  it  has,  I  fear,  done 
little  in  comparison  with  presumptuous  ignorance. 

But,  in  the  second  place,  I  think  the  reader  will  per- 
ceive that  the  abbot  Peter  was  not  a  solitary  being  who 
had  some  knowledge  of  the  scriptures,  while  everybody 
else  was  ignorant.  I  do  believe  that  it  was  uncommon 
in  extent,  and  that  his  secretary  Peter  meant,  if  not 
quite  all  that  his  words  might  be  made  to  say,  yet 
something  very  strong,  when  he  talked  of  the  abbot's 
having  the  scriptures  always  ready — "  utrumque  Testa- 
mentum  memoriter  retinendo  ' ;"  but  that  it  was  not  so 
uncommon  in  kind  as  some  persons  have  supposed  the 
reader  has  probably  been  led  to  suspect;  perhaps  he 
has  anticipated,  and  wondered  that  I  have  not  noticed, 
an  argument  which  is  one  of  the  most  obvious  and  the 
most  powerful,  and  to  which  I  hope  to  proceed. 


No.  XXVII. 


"  Deinde  etiam  certis  horis,  certae  lectioni  vacandum  est.  Fortuita  enim 
et  varia  lectio,  et  quasi  casu  reperta,  non  aedificat,  sed  reddit  aniraum 
instabilem  ;  et  leviter  admissa  levius  recedit  a  memoria.  Sed  certis  inge- 
niis  immorandum  est,  et  assuefaciendus  est  animus.  Quo  enim  spiritu 
scripturae  factae  sunt,  eo  spiritu  legi  desiderant :  ipso  etiam  intelligendae 
sunt.  Nunquam  ingredieris  in  sensum  Pauli,  donee  usu  bonae  intentionis 
in  lectione  ejus,  et  studio  assiduae  meditationis,  spiritum  ejus  imbiberis. 
Numquam  intelliges  David,  donee  ipsa  experientia  ipsos  psalmorum  affec- 
tus  indueris.  Sicque  de  reliquis.  Et  in  omni  scriptura  tantum  distat 
studium  a  lectione,  quantum  amicitia  ab  hospitio,  socialis  affectio  a  fortuita 
salutatione." — Guilielmus  Remen. 

If  the  Scriptures  were  as  little  known  in  the  Dark 
Ages  as  some  writers  would  have  us  believe,  it  would 

4  Bib.  Clun.  619. 


456  SCRIPTURE    KNOWLEDGE  [NO.  XXVII. 

be  hard  to  account  for  one  very  common  feature  in  the 
biography  of  ecclesiastics  of  that  period,  written  by 
those  who  were  quite,  or  almost,  their  contemporaries, 
and  who  therefore,  according  to  the  popular  notion, 
participated,  and  gloried,  in  the  same  ignorance  and 
hatred  of  the  word  of  God.  Treating  the  history  of 
those  times  as  it  has  been  too  often  treated,  we  may, 
indeed,  whenever  we  meet  with  anything  opposed  to 
our  previous  opinion,  set  it  down  at  once  as  an  exagge- 
ration, or  falsehood,  or  some  absurd  fruit  of  incon- 
ceivable ignorance  and  stupidity.  But  in  a  great  many 
cases  this  will  not  help ;  and  at  the  same  time  will  not 
prevent  the  statement  from  being  of  great  value  ;  for  I 
need  scarcely  say  that  we  may  often  learn  nearly  as 
much  from  falsehood  as  from  truth,  though  the  inform- 
ation may  be  very  different  in  kind  from  that  which 
it  was  the  writer's  intention  to  convey. 

It  is,  for  instance,  obvious,  that  if  a  contemporary 
biographer  describes  the  subject  of  his  memoir  as  pull- 
ing down  an  old  wooden  church  and  building  a  stone 
one,  so  much  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  patron  saint 
that  he  came  himself  in  the  night,  and  set  up  three 
great  bells  in  addition  to  the  three  little  ones  of  the  old 
church — if,  I  say,  we  are  told  this,  all  or  any  part  of  it 
may  be  untrue,  and  the  untruth  may  arise  from  the  in- 
tention or  mistake  of  the  writer ;  but  at  least  we  attain 
a  high  probability  that  there  were  wooden  churches  and 
stone  churches  in  his  days,  and  that  both  might  have  bells. 
Indeed  we  are  apt  to  suppose,  that  what  a  legend  writer 
(I  use  the  word  in  its  popular  sense,  for  a  writer  of 
something  little  better  than  romance)  tells  us  of  his 
saint  is  somewhat  adapted  to  the  taste  and  knowledge 
of  those  for  whom  he  wrote,  and  that,  even  while  we 
disbelieve  his  facts,  we  may  gather  from  him  some  idea 
of  the  opinions  and  feelings  of  society  in  his  time.  Per- 
haps we  are  even  liable  to  carry  this  too  far ;  but  when 


NO.  XXVII.]  IN    THE    DARK    AGES.  457 

we  do,  the  fault  more  commonly  lies  in  building  on 
single  instances,  or  generalizing  from  a  few  particular 
cases,  than  in  the  original  principle  and  ground  of 
judgment.  That  ground  is  solid,  and  by  these  remarks 
I  do  not  mean  to  throw  suspicion  on  the  statements  of 
which  I  am  about  to  avail  myself,  but  only  to  remind 
the  reader  that  for  our  present  purpose  it  really  matters 
but  little,  if  at  all,  whether  the  biographers  of  the  Dark 
Ages  whom  I  have  occasion  to  quote  were  scrupulously 
correct  or  not.  As  to  the  fact,  I  dare  say  that  a 
great  deal  of  their  biography  was  affected  by  passion 
and  prejudice,  some  intended  to  deceive,  and  some 
written  in  error, — some,  in  short,  as  bad  in  every 
variety  of  way  as  anything  in  our  days, — but  I  really 
believe  that  a  great  part  of  it  is  more  simple,  and 
therefore  more  credible ;  except  on  those  points  respect- 
ing which  the  writer  was,  from  the  superstition  of  the 
time,  more  likely  to  be  deceived  himself. 

Be  this  as  it  may,  it  is  certain  that  a  very  common 
subject  of  eulogium  on  the  ecclesiastics  of  those  times 
is  that  they  were  much  devoted  to  the  study  of  the 
scriptures,  and  possessed  a  great  knowledge  of  them. 
Several  instances  of  this  have  occurred  already  inciden- 
tally ;  and  I  will  here  add  a  few  others. 

The  biographer  of  St.  Luidger,  bishop  of  Minister, 
who  died  in  the  year  809,  tells  us  that  he  was  well 
instructed  in  the  sacred  writings ;  and  did  not  neglect 
to  lecture  his  disciples  daily  ;  and  whatever  he  found 
to  be  enjoined  in  the  holy  books,  he  studied  to  prac- 
tise and  teach5.  I  have  already,  I  believe  more  than 
once,  cautioned  the   reader  that  even  such    tenn>    as 


5  "  Erat  sanctus  Lutgerus  in  Scripturis  sacris  non  mediocriter  eruditus, 
sicut  in  libro  ab  eo  composito  ....  probatur  .  .  .  Discipulis  etiam  suis  mane 
diebus  singulis  tradere  per  se  lectiones  non  neglexit,  et  quicquid  in  sacris 
codicibus  faciendum  invenit,  illud  instantissime  studuit  observare  et  do- 
cere."—  Leib.  Sc.  Br.  I.  93.     See  also  Mab.  Act.  SS.  V.  27. 


458  READERS    OF    THE    BIBLE  [NO.  XXVII. 

scriptures  sacrce  in  writers  of  the  Dark  Ages  do  not 
always  mean  the  Bible ;  but  it  may  be  well  to  repeat  it 
here,  and  when  the  expression  is  ambiguous  he  will 
judge  for  himself,  whether  it  is  used  with  that  laxity 
by  which  it  sometimes  includes  the  writings  of  the 
fathers,  and  ecclesiastical  historians.  It  may  probably 
do  so  here ;  but  I  should  not  mention  St.  Luidger 
where  doubtful  instances  are  not  worth  quoting,  if  I 
really  doubted  the  fact  in  his  case,  and  also  (to  say  the 
truth)  if  it  were  not  for  a  little  anecdote  which  his 
biographer  records,  and  which  it  is  to  our  general  pur- 
pose to  mention.  We  may  perhaps  assume  that  this 
pupil  of  Alcuin  (who  after  spending  three  years  and  a 
half  with  him  at  York,  returned  "  habens  copiam  libro- 
rum")  was  not  unacquainted  with  the  scriptures,  espe- 
cially as  his  master's  eminence  in  such  learning  is 
recorded  6 ;  but  his  biographer  tells  us  that — 

"  As  soon  as  he  could  walk  and  talk  he  began  to  collect 
the  rind  and  bark  of  trees,  such  as  we  use  for  lights,  and 
everything  of  that  sort  which  he  could  find.  And  while  the 
other  children  were  playing  he  used  to  make  himself  little 
books  of  what  he  had  gathered.  And  when  he  could  get  any 
fluid,  he  imitated  those  who  write,  and  used  to  carry  them  to 
his  nurse  to  take  care  of,  as  if  they  were  useful  books.  And 
when  anybody  said  to  him,  *  What  have  you  been  doing 
to-day  V  he  would  say  that  he  had  been  all  day  making 
books,  or  writing,  or  reading.  And  when  he  was  further 
asked   '  Who  taught  you  ? '   he  would  answer   *  God  taught 


6  "  Qui  erat  in  omni  latitudine  scripturarum  supra  caeteros  modernorum 
temporum  exercitatus,"  says  the  monk  of  St.  Gall.  Canis.  Led.  Ant. 
torn.  ii.  P.  iii.  p.  57.  I  give  this,  which  is  a  testimony  to  his  general  learn- 
ing, merely  for  the  phraseology  which  illustrates  what  I  have  just  said. 
Of  Alcuin's  biblical  learning  and  labours  I  have,  I  think,  spoken  in  a 
former  number ;  but  they  are  notorious,  and  the  reader  will  perceive  that 
my  object  is  rather  to  shew,  by  scattered  and  incidental  notices,  the  pro- 
bability that  there  were  many  biblical  students  among  the  comparatively 
obscure. 


NO.  XXVII.]  IN    THE    DARK    AGES.  459 


me.'     He  was  in  fact  meditating  in  his  tender  age  what  he 
afterwards  devotedly  performed 7." 


One  could  imagine  him  accepting  little  Hannah 
More's  invitation,  and  accompanying  her  in  her  antici- 
patory journeys  8.  But  the  reason  why  this  puerile  cir- 
cumstance is  worth  mentioning  is,  that  it  indicates  a 
state  of  things  in  which  the  child  was  familiar  with 
books,  and  reading  and  writing.  If  he  had  not  seen  it 
practised,  he  would  have  no  more  thought  of  writing 
than  Philip  Quarl's  monkey  did  before  his  master  came 
to  the  island. 

Of  St.  Dunstan,  who  became  archbishop  of  Canter- 
bury in  the  year  961,  his  biographer  tells  us  that  he 
used  to  spend  such  leisure  as  he  could  retrieve  from 
public  affairs  in  religious  exercises,  and  among  other 
things  in  reading  the  divine  writings  (divinas  scriptu- 
ras)  and  correcting  the  copies  of  them 9. 

Of  Maiolus,  abbot  of  Clugni,  who  died  in  the  year 
994,  I  have  already  spoken — ut  speculi  fieri  solet 
inspectione,  ita  se  interius  divina  considerabat  lectione, 

&C.1 

Of  Lambert,  abbot  of  the  monastery  of  Lobbes, 
about  the  year  1094,  his  biographer  tells  us  that  "  of 
his  love  of  the  word  of  God  and  his  knowledge  of  the 
scriptures ;  to  the  study  and  comparison  of  which 
whenever  opportunity  was  afforded,  he  gave  himself 
wholly  .  .  .  there  is  much  which  might  be  worthy  of 
mention 2." 


7  Leibn.  Scr.  Brun.  i.  87. 

8  "Among  the  characteristic  sports  of  Hannah's  childhood,  which  their 
mother  was  fond  of  recording,  we  are  told,  that  she  was  wont  to  make  a 
carriage  of  a  chair  and  then  to  call  her  sisters  to  ride  with  her  to  London 
to  see  bishops  and  booksellers ;  an  intercourse  which  we  shall  hereafter  shew 
to  have  been  realized."— Roberts's  Memoirs  of  Hannah  More,  vol.  I.  p.  14. 

9  Mab.  Act.  SS.  vii.  663.  »  See  p.  307. 
-  Dach.  Spic.  ii.  753. 


4(30  READERS    OF    THE    BIBLE  [NO.  XXVII. 

Anselm,  bishop  of  Lucca,  who  died  in  the  year  1086, 
according  to  his  contemporary  biographer,  "  Knew 
almost  all  the  holy  scriptures  by  heart;  and,  as  soon 
as  he  was  asked,  would  tell  what  each  and  all  the  holv 
expositors  thought  on  any  particular  point  V 

I  think  that  I  have  referred  to  what  William  of 
Malmesbury,  who  lived  within  fifty  years  of  the  time, 
says  of  Wulstan  bishop  of  Worcester's  custom  of 
repeating  the  whole  psalter  on  his  journeys,  to  keep 
his  attendant  clerks  from  such  vain  talk  as  is  the  com- 
mon snare  of  travellers ;  but  I  wTill  here  add  his  testi- 
mony, that  "  lying,  standing,  walking,  sitting,  he  had 
always  a  psalm  on  his  lips,  always  Christ  in  his  heart  V 

Hariulf  abbot  of  Aldemburg,  and  Lisiard  bishop  of 
Soissons,  contemporaries  and  biographers  of  Arnold 
bishop  of  Soissons,  who  died  in  the  year  1087,  tells  us, 
that  he  did  not  speak  a  single  word  to  any  creature 
during  three  years  and  a  half  which  he  spent  in  con- 
stant reading  of  the  word  of  God  and  meditation 
upon  it  \ 

The  contemporary  biographer  of  Thierry  abbot  of 
St.  Hubert  in  the  Ardennes  says,  that  he  was  so  assi- 
duous in  reading  the  holy  scriptures  that  he  knew 
them  by  heart,  and  could  quickly  resolve  even  the  most 
difficult,  and  obscure,  questions  respecting  them 6. 

3  Mab.  Act.  SS.  ix.  480. 

4  William  of  Malmesbury  says  : — "  Ascenso  animali,  continuo  psalte- 
rium  incipere  nee  pausam  nisi  ad  finem  facere  ....  si  via  protelaretur  ad 
sufficientiam  horarum  repetebatur  psalterium.  Adequitabant  clerici  et 
monachi,  vel  seriem  versuum  excepturi,  vel  amminiculaturi  memoriae,  si 
quando  videretur  titubare,  hoc  ideo  ut  dediscerent  inanes  fabulas,  qua? 
potissimum  se  viantibus  ingerunt " — and  he  afterwards  adds,  "jaceret, 
staret,  ambularet,  sederet,  semper  in  ore  psalmus,  semper  in  corde  Chris- 
tus."— Mab.  A.  SS.  ix.  834,  who  refers  to  Aug.  Sac.  ii.  240. 

5  "  Tribus  igitur  annis  et  mensibus  sex,  nullum  mortalibus  locutus  est 
verbum,  continuo  strictus  silentio,  et  delectatus  in  caslesti  contemplatione 
atque  assidua  verbi  Dei  meditatione,  quam  solus  legens  ex  divinorum 
copia  librorum  ubertim  hauriebat. "—Mab.  A.  SS.  ix.  514. 

6  u  In  lectione  sanctarum  scripturarum  ita  erat  assiduus,  ut  eas  memo- 


NO.  XXVII.]  IN    THE    DARK    AGES.  461 

Of  Wolphelm,  abbot  of  Brunwillers  near  Cologne, 
who  lived  until  the  year  1091,  his  disciple  says,  that 
he  so  profited  in  the  reading  of  the  scriptures  that 
what  he  once  read  he  never  forgot.  This  may  perhaps 
be  meant  to  refer  to  more  general  theological  reading ; 
but  he  adds,  "  It  is  also  worth  while  to  mention  that 
this  man  of  the  Lord  caused  the  whole  of  the  Old  and 
New  Testament  to  be  read  through  every  year.  The 
four  gospels,  however,  as  they  could  not  be  read  at  the 
same  time,  and  in  the  same  order,  as  the  other  books, 
he  appointed  to  be  read  at  four  periods  of  the  year,  by 
four  deacons,  in  the  four  sides  of  the  cloisters  V 

I  suppose  it  would  not  be  difficult  to  give  enough 
examples  to  tire  the  reader,  if  I  have  not  done  it 
already ;  but  I  will  here  add  only  that  of  Aufridus, 
a  man  of  high  rank  and  militarv  education,  because  his 
anonymous  biographer  tells  us,  that  while  a  layman  his 
table-talk  was  always  seasoned  with  references  to  the 
holy  scriptures.  I  mention  this  because  he  was  a  lay- 
man, while  the  others  of  whom  I  have  spoken  were 
ecclesiastics.  Of  course  instances  among*  the  laity  are 
less  frequently  met  with,  for  two  very  obvious  reasons. 
In  the  first  place,  the  ecclesiastics  were  the  reading 
men,  and  the  writing  men,  and  it  is  therefore  likely 
not  onlv  that  there  should  be  more  matter  of  this  sort 


riter  teneret,  et  earum  quaestiones  quamvis  difficillimas  et  obscuras,  cito 
evolveret." — Mab.  A.  SS.  ix.  565. 

7  "  Operae  pretium  est,  illud  etiatn  non  reticere  quod  singulis  annis  vir 
Domini,  Novi  ac  Veteris  Testamenti  paginas  ex  integro  faciebat  legendo 
revolvi :  quatuor  vero  evangeliorum  libros  quoniam  non  eo  loco,  vel  ordine, 
quo  reliquos,  competebat  expleri,  statuit  quatuor  temporibus  recurrenti- 
bus  anni  in  quatuor  plagis  claustri  singulos  a  singulis  diaconibus  recitari." 
He  also  gives  these  verses  of  Wolphelm  : — 

Late  diffusus  sit  ecclesiasticus  usus. 

Se  testamentis  exercet  Omnipotentis. 

Ut  legat  ha?c  ambo,  sed  et  omni  compleat  anno 

Sicut  in  hebdomada  psalmorum  clauditur  ordo. 

Mab.  A.  SS.  ix.  686. 


462  AUFRIDUS,    BISHOP    OF    UTRECHT.     [NO.  XXVII. 

to  record  of  them  than  of  the  laity,  but  that,  as  the 
reading  men  and  writing  men  thus  formed  one  class, 
they  should  know  and  care  more  about  each  other's 
personal  and  individual  characters,  and  therefore  more 
facts  (not  only  in  quantity,  but  in  proportion)  should 
be  recorded.  Secondly,  these  laymen  who  had  par- 
ticular knowledge  of  the  scriptures,  and  of  ecclesiastical 
books,  were  very  likely  to  become  ecclesiastics,  and  to 
be  principally  known  in  that  character.  I  have  men- 
tioned St.  Eloy  the  goldsmith;  and  perhaps  some 
others ;  and  so  this  Aufridus,  after  having  been  a  sol- 
dier of  rank,  became,  in  the  year  994  or  995,  bishop  of 
Utrecht 8.  Others  too  there  were,  many  of  whom, 
though  equally  learned  and  diligent,  did  not  rise  to 
such  high  station ;  and  I  will  run  the  risque  of  speci- 
fying one,  partly  because  he  was  a  man  not  much 
known  out  of  his  own  circle,  and  who  as  far  as  I  know 
never  wrote  anything ;  partly,  because  he  lived  in  the 
very  darkest  period,  for  though  there  may  be  some 
difficulty  in  fixing  the  minutiae  of  his  chronology,  it 
appears  that  he  was  an  old  man  in  the  year  973 ;  and 
partly  also  because  his  affectionate  disciple  and  bio- 
grapher has  mentioned  several  particulars  which  illus- 
trate not  only  his  personal  history,  but  the  times  to 
which  he  belonged. 

The  monastery  of  St.  Gorgonius  at  Gorze,  originally 
founded  by  Chrodegang  bishop  of  Metz,  was  a  few 
miles  to  the  south-west  of  that  city.  Its  abbot,  John, 
whom  I  desire  to  introduce  to  the  notice  of  the  reader, 
was  born,  most  probably  in  the  early  part  of  the  tenth 
century,  at  Vendiere,  of  parents  who  were,  to  say  the 
least,  in  very  respectable  circumstances.     His  father, 


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


NO.  XXVII.]  JOHN,    ABBOT    OF    GORZE.  463 

at  a  somewhat  advanced  age,  married  a  young  woman 
of  good  familv,  by  whom  he  had  this  son  and  two  other 
children.  John  was  sent  to  school  at  Metz,  and  also 
spent  some  time  at  the  monastery  of  St.  Michael  on 
the  Moselle,  where  Hildebold  a  grammarian,  one  of 
the  disciples  of  Remigius  the  most  learned  master  of 
that  age,  kept  school.  From  his  learning,  however,  as 
he  afterwards  frequently  said,  whether  it  was  through 
carelessness,  or,  as  it  seemed  more  probable,  from  a 
sort  of  pride,  he  gained  very  little,  though  his  father 
paid  very  liberally  for  his  instruction.  Soon  after- 
wards, while  he  was  quite  a  youth,  his  father  died,  and 
his  mother,  who  was  much  younger,  marrying  again, 
the  care  of  his  brothers  and  all  the  familv  devolved 
upon  him.  How  he  excelled  in  the  knowledge  of  busi- 
ness, and  in  domestic  economy,  how  prudent  he  was 
and  what  ability  he  shewed,  his  biographer  thought  it 
needless  to  state  particularly,  and  contented  himself 
with  referring  his  readers  to  many  persons  who  were 
then  living  for  testimony. 

It  is  still  less  our  business  than  it  was  his  biographer's 
to  trace  the  future  abbot  of  Gorze  through  all  these 
circumstances,  and  it  may  be  enough  to  state  that, 
having  by  these  pursuits  lost  what  little  learning  he 
had  gained  at  school,  he  went  to  read  with  Berner,  a 
deacon  at  Toul,  who  was  much  celebrated  for  both 
piety  and  learning.  With  him  he  studied  the  elements 
of  grammar  and  read  the  first  part  of  Donatus 9 ;  but 


9  A  very  fashionable  work  in  those  days,  but  since  so  neglected  that  the 
name  has  puzzled  the  modern  editor  of  an  ancient  chronicle,  who  takes 
some  trouble  in  conjecturing  who  the  Donati  given  by  somebody  to  a 
monastery  could  be.  He  had  heard  of  Oblati  who  offered  themselves,  or 
were  offered  by  their  parents  while  children,  but  as  to  Donati  they  were  a 
class  of  whom  he  had  not  heard,  any  more  than  he  had  of  the  book  in 
which  grammar  was  at  that  time  commonly  studied.  It  has  found  its 
way  several  times  into  the  foregoing  pages.  See  p.  1"S.  n.,  184,  266,  and 
probably  elsewhere. 


464  JOHN,    ABBOT  [NO.  XXVII. 

he  was  quickly  satisfied,  or  dissatisfied  with  these  stu- 
dies, and  devoted  himself  entirely  to  sacred  literature, 
in  which  he  soon  made  extraordinary  progress.  For 
brevity's  sake  I  pass  over  all  the  intermediate  steps 
between  this,  and  his  being  called  to  the  nunnery  of 
St.  Peter,  at  Metz,  to  take  his  turn  there  as  officiating 
priest.     His  biographer  says, 

64  In  the  company  of  nuns,  belonging  to  that  place  (which 
still  through  the  mercy  of  God  continues  to  prosper)  there 
was  one  named  Geisa,  distinguished  from  the  rest  by  her  man- 
ners and  conversation.  She  was  still  quite  a  girl,  and  her 
aunt  (she  was  named  Fredeburg)  who  was  herself  one  of  the 
nuns,  was  bringing  her  up  under  her  own  particular  care. 
This  Geisa,  therefore,  who  was  daily  making  progress  in  the 
strictness  of  holy  conversation,  amongst  the  other  ornaments 
of  her  sacred  purpose,  also  wore  hair  cloth  under  all  her  gar- 
ments. John,  who  scarcely  knew,  if  indeed  he  knew  at  all, 
of  the  existence  of  any  such  practice,  while  he  was  one  day, 
I  know  not  where,  talking  familiarly  with  her  as  he  used  to 
do  with  the  others,  got  an  indistinct  view  through  her  linen 
which  was  very  thin,  of  the  hair  cloth  which  was  next  the 
skin  on  the  damsel's  neck.  Having  put  his  hand  upon  it  to 
find  out  what  it  was,  and  discovering  by  its  asperity,  he  was 
struck  with  amazement  and  trembled  all  over.  On  his 
enquiring  what  this  kind  of  dress  could  mean,  she  was  shy 
and  blushed ;  and  after  remaining  silent  for  sometime  she 
replied,  '  Do  you  not  know  that  we  ought  not  to  live  for  this 
world,  or  to  serve  it  ?  Those  things  to  which  I  see  most 
people  devoted  appear  to  me  to  be  altogether  vain  and  the 
ruin  of  souls  ;  a  contrary  disposition  of  mind  makes  me  soli- 
citous only  concerning  my  own  personal  danger.1  When,  in 
the  language  of  holy  zeal,  she  had  replied  to  him  more  than 
this,  John  was  moved,  and  sighed  deeply ;  '  Woe  is  me,1  said 
he,  '  miserable  and  most  sluggish,  who  have  so  long  dragged 
on  a  life,  not  merely  fruitless  but  even  wicked.  I,  a  man, 
ought  to  take  the  lead  of  the  weaker  sex  in  virtue ;  but,  to 
my  great  disgrace  and  shame,  I  not  only  do  not  follow  them 
who  are  already  on  the  way  but,  slothful  and  altogether 
cleaving  to  the  earth,  I  make  no  progress  whatever  and 
do  not  in  any  degree  imitate  them.1 


NO.  XXVII.]  OF    GORZE.  466 

{i  Being  therefore  greatly  stimulated  by  them,    and   more 
inflamed  than   he   had   ever   been  before  by  any  example  of 
virtue,  he  deliberated  with  a  fixed  mind  on  a  plan  for  a  more 
perfect   life.      He   therefore    immediately   began   with   these 
handmaidens  of  Grod,  a  course  of  divine  reading  with  all  his 
might.     Having  first  read  through  the  whole  of  the  Old  and 
New  Testament,  he   committed   to   memory    (accurately,    so 
that  no  one  could  have  done  it  better)  all  the  lessons  which 
are  appointed  for  certain  times  in  the  divine  service  in  the 
church,  which  are  contained  in  the  book  called  '  Comes ;'  the 
prayers  and  whatever  is  appointed  for  particular  occasions  in 
the  Sacramentary ;   the  rules  for  the  computation  of  times, 
which  he  had  for  the  most  part  previously  read  over  with  the 
aforesaid  Berner  the  deacon.     The  canonical  laws,  that  is  to 
say,  the  decrees  of  councils,  the  judgments  for  penitents,  the 
mode  of  all  ecclesiastical  proceedings,  and  beside  all  these, 
the  secular  laws  he  treasured  up  in  his  mind   (if   I   may  so 
speak)    word   for  word.      Of  homilies,    sermons,    and   divers 
treatises  on  the  epistles  and  gospels,  as  well  as  of  whatever  is 
memorable   in   the   lives  of  the   saints,    he   acquired  such  a 
knowledge,    that  whenever  he  subsequently  had  occasion  to 
refer  to  them  he  would  repeat  them  in  the  vernacular  tongue 
straight  forward  from  the  beginning  to  the  end  as  if  the  book 
had  been  before  him,  and  he   was  actuallv  reading  from   it. 
About  the  same  time  he  laboured  hard  at  the  ecclesiastical 
music,  without  being  ashamed  or  despairing ;  although  some 
were  inclined  to  laugh  at  him  for  enterprising  what  seemed 
unsuitable   to   his   age.      Nevertheless    the    perseverance   of 
good  desire,  though  with  much  labour,   was  completely  suc- 
cessful.    Thus  were  the  leisure  intervals  of  his  sacred  duties 
with  the  aforesaid  handmaidens  of  God  employed  V 

We  shall  not  surely  be  told  that  such  stories  as 
these  are  either  fictions  or  very  singular  cases — or  even 
that  they  are  to  any  important  extent  coloured  and 
exaggerated*.  It  would  be  easy  to  multiply  them,  and 
not  eagy  to  escape  the  inference  that  a  familiar  know- 
ledge of  the  word  of  God,  was  possessed  and  valued 


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

H  h 


466  ADDITIONAL    PROOF 

by  many  in  those  ages,  which  have  been  represented 
not  merely  as  without  light,  but  as  so  fiercely  in  love 
with  darkness  that  they  were  positively  hostile  to  the 
scriptures,  and  not  only  virtually  destroyed  them  and 
made  them  void  by  their  wicked  doctrines  and  prac- 
tices, but  actually  hated  and  destroyed  the  very  letter 
of  the  Bible.  There  is,  however,  as  I  said  before,  (for 
the  reader  may  perceive  that  I  have  been  led  into  what 
is  not  a  digression,  but  certainly  a  parenthetical  paper 
which  I  did  not  think  of  when  I  wrote  the  preceding) 
an  obvious  and  powerful  argument — perhaps  it  would 
have  been  more  correct  to  have  said  a  plain  and  con- 
vincing fact — which  I  have  not  hitherto  noticed,  and 
which  I  hope  to  state  and  to  illustrate. 


Circumstances  which  would  have  rendered  it  diffi- 
cult, if  not  impossible,  for  me  to  carry  on  this  series  of 
papers,  as  I  had  intended,  are  sufficiently  known  to  my 
friends,  and  are  not  of  a  nature  to  interest  the  public. 
I  meant,  indeed,  to  have  taken  up  some  other  points 
among  the  great  variety  which  are  intimately  connected 
with  the  subject,  and  for  which  I  had  collected  mate- 
rials. These  I  may,  perhaps,  some  day  use ;  but  beside 
that  they  would  have  required  a  good  deal  of  time  and 
trouble  for  their  arrangement,  they  would  have  in- 
creased this  volume  to  a  very  inconvenient  size.  I  do 
not,  however,  like  that  this  reprint  should  be  issued 
without  a  few  words  to  explain  an  allusion  which  I 
have  once  or  twice  made  in  the  foregoing  pages  to  an 
argument  in  proof  of  the  scriptural  knowledge  existing 
in  the  Dark  Ages,  which  had  not  been  stated ;  which, 
in  fact,  I  have  not  stated  at  all ;  but  which  is,  I  believe, 
altogether  unanswerable. 

I  could  not  but  suppose  while  T  was  writing  these 


OF    SCRIPTURAL    KNOWLEDGE.  467 

papers  that  some  readers  would  anticipate  me,  and 
wonder  why  I  did  not  at  once  appeal  to  what  was  so 
obvious  to  every  one  possessing  even  a  superficial 
knowledge  of  the  subject.  I  might  perhaps  have  done 
so  if  my  only  object  had  been  to  give  in  as  few  words 
as  possible,  a  decisive  proof  that  the  Bible  was  better 
known  in  the  Dark  Ages  than  some  writers  would  have 
us  believe.  But  it  was  my  wish,  not  only  to  state  the 
proofs  which  exist,  but  to  state  them  in  such  a  manner 
as  that  they  might  be  most  intelligible  and  useful. 
I  am  not  without  hope  that  the  contents  of  the  pre- 
ceding pages,  beside  having  communicated  to  some 
readers  information  on  several  collateral  subjects,  and 
many  incidental  proofs  and  illustrations  respecting  that 
which  is  the  main  one,  will  have  rendered  some,  who 
would  otherwise  have  been  unprepared,  capable  of 
appreciating  that  which  is,  when  properly  understood, 
the  strongest  proof  of  all.  The  proof  lies  in  a  simple 
fact,  and  the  fact  is  before  our  eyes ;  but  to  those  who 
have  never  looked  at  the  writers  of  the  period,  and 
have  imbibed  all  their  ideas  of  the  Dark  Ages  from 
modern  declamation,  there  is  too  much  reason  to 
apprehend  that  without  considerable  preparation  it 
must  seem  unintelligible  or  incredible. 

I  am  not  such  an  enthusiast  as  to  suppose  that  a 
series  of  papers  in  a  magazine,  desultory  and  superficial 
as  I  sincerely  acknowledge  these  to  be,  can  do  much 
to  stop  the  perpetual  repetition  of  falsehood  long  esta- 
blished, widely  circulated,  and  maintained  with  all  the 
tenacity  of  party  prejudice.  If  I  were,  the  occurrences 
of  almost  every  day  would,  I  hope,  teach  me  wisdom. 
While  these  sheets  have  been  going  through  the  press 
they  have  brought  me  a  specimen  quite  worthy  of 
Robertson,  and  so  much  to  our  present  purpose  that 
I  cannot  help  noticing  it.  Even  since  the  foregoing 
paragraph  was  written,  a  proof  sheet  has  come  from  the 

Hh  2 


468  ADDITIONAL    PROOF 

printing-office,  wrapped  in  a  waste  quarter  of  a  sheet  of 
a  book  which  I  do  not  know  that  I  have  seen,  but  the 
name  of  which  I  have  often  heard,  and  which  I  have 
reason  to  believe  has  been  somewhat  popular  of  late. 
The  head-line  of  the  page  before  me  is 

IuthY"y'         D'AUBIGNE'S  REFORMATION.        «SK 

Among  the  contents  of  the  page  thus  headed,  and  in 
the  column  under  "  Discovery.  The  Bible,"  we  find 
the  following  passage  relating  to  Luther : — 

"  The  young  student  passed  at  the  university  library  every 
moment  he  could  snatch  from  his  academic  duties.  Books 
were  still  rare,  and  it  was  a  high  privilege  in  his  eyes  to  be 
enabled  to  profit  by  the  treasures  collected  in  that  vast  col- 
lection. One  day  (he  had  then  been  studying  two  years  at 
Erfurth,  and  was  twenty  years  of  age)  he  opened  one  after 
another  several  books  in  the  library,  in  order  to  become 
acquainted  with  their  authors.  A  volume  he  opens  in  its 
turn  arrests  his  attention.  He  has  seen  nothing  like  it  to 
this  moment.  He  reads  the  title — it  is  a  Bible  !  a  rare  book, 
unknown  in  those  days2§.  His  interest  is  excited  to  a  high 
degree  ;  he  is  overcome  with  wonder  at  finding  more  in  the 
volume  than  those  fragments  of  the  Gospels  and  Epistles, 
which  the  Church  had  selected  to  be  read  in  the  temples 
every  Sunday  throughout  the  year.  Till  then,  he  had  sup- 
posed these  constituted  the  entire  word  of  God  ;  and  now 
behold,  how  many  pages,  how  many  chapters,  how  many 
books,  of  which  he  had  not  before  had  a  notion." 

Is  it  not  odd  that  Luther  had  not  by  some  chance  or 
other  heard  of  the  Psalms  ? — but  there  is  no  use  in 


2  On  this  word  is  a  reference  to  a  note  in  German  at  the  foot  of  the 
page,  which  the  English  reader  (and  for  such  I  presume  the  translation  is 
made)  will,  of  course,  suppose  to  be  a  voucher  for  the  fact  that  the  Bible 
was  unknown  in  those  days ;  but  which  is,  in  fact,  neither  more  nor  less 
than  the  following ; — 

§  Auf  ein  Zeyt,  wie  er  die  Biicher  fein  nach  einander  besieht  .  .  kommt 
er  Liber  die  lateinische  Biblia  .  .  (Mathes.  3.) 


OF    SCRIPTURAL    KNOWLEDGE.  4<J9 

criticising  such  nonsense 3.  Such  it  must  appear  to 
every  moderately  informed  reader,  but  he  will  not 
appreciate  its  absurdity  until  he  is  informed  that  on 
the  same  page  this  precious  historian  has  informed  his 
readers  that  in  the  course  of  the  two  preceding  years 
Luther  had  "  applied  himself  to  learn  the  philosophy 
of  the  middle  ages  in  the  writings  of  Occam,  Scot, 
Bona  venture,  and  Thomas  Aquinas," — of  course  none 


3  After  I  had  written  this  I  was  curious  to  see  how  Milner  (in  this  case, 
the  Dean)  had  stated  the  matter ;  and  I  was  surprised  to  find  the  following 
passage,  with  the  capitals  as  I  here  give  it; — 

"  In  the  second  year  after  Luther  had  entered  into  the  monastery,  he 
accidentally  met  with  a  Latin  Bible  in  the  library.  It  proved  to  him  a 
treasure.  Then  he  first  discovered,  that  there  were  more  scripture-pas- 
sages extant  than  those  which  were  read  to  the  people  :  for  the  scriptures 
were  at  that  time  very  little  known  in  the  world." — Vol.  IV.  p.  324. 
Really  one  hardly  knows  how  to  meet  such  statements,  but  will  the  reader 
be  so  good  as  to  remember  that  we  are  not  now  talking  of  the  Dark  Ages, 
but  of  a  period  when  the  press  had  been  half  a  century  in  operation ; 
and  will  he  give  a  moment's  reflection  to  the  following  statement,  which  I 
believe  to  be  correct,  and  which  cannot,  I  think,  be  so  far  inaccurate  as  to 
affect  the  argument.  To  say  nothing  of  parts  of  the  Bible,  or  of  books 
whose  place  is  uncertain,  we  know  of  at  least  twenty  different  editions  of  the 
whole  Latin  Bible  printed  in  Germany  only  before  Luther  was  born.  These 
had  issued  from  Augsburg,  Strasburg,  Cologne,  Ulm,  Mentz  (two),  Basil 
(four),  Nuremberg  (ten),  and  were  dispersed  through  Germany,  I  repeat, 
before  Luther  was  born ;  and  I  may  add  that  before  that  event  there  was 
a  printing  press  at  work  in  this  very  town  of  Erfurt,  where,  more  than 
twenty  years  after,  he  is  said  to  have  made  his  *  discovery.'  Some  may  ask 
what  was  the  Pope  about  all  this  time  ?  Truly  one  would  think  he  must 
have  been  off  his  guard ;  but  as  to  these  German  performances,  he  might 
have  found  employment  nearer  home  if  he  had  looked  for  it.  Before 
Luther  was  born  the  Bible  had  been  printed  in  Rome,  and  the  printers  had 
had  the  assurance  to  memorialise  his  Holiness,  praying  that  he  would  help 
them  off  with  some  copies.  It  had  been  printed  too  at  Naples,  Florence, 
and  Placenza,  and  Venice  alone  had  furnished  eleven  editions.  No  doubt 
we  should  be  within  the  truth  if  we  were  to  say  that  beside  the  multitude 
of  manuscript  copies,  not  yet  fallen  into  disuse,  the  press  had  issued  fifty 
different  editions  of  the  whole  Latin  Bible;  to  say  nothing  of  Psalters, 
New  Testaments,  or  other  parts.  And  yet,  more  than  twenty  years  after, 
we  find  a  young  man  who  had  received  "  a  very  liberal  education,"  who 
"  had  made  great  proficiency  in  his  studies  at  Magdeburg,  Eisenach,  and 
Erfurt,"  and  who,  nevertheless,  did  not  know  what  a  Bible  was,  simply 
because  "  the  Bible  was  unknown  in  those  days." — See  Note  H. 


470  ADDITIONAL    PROOF 

of    those    poor   creatures   knew   anything   about   the 
Bible. 

The  fact,  however,  to  which  I  have  so  repeatedly 
alluded  is  simply  this — the  writings  of  the  dark  ages 
are,  if  I  may  use  the  expression,  made  of  the  Scriptures. 
I  do  not  merely  mean  that  the  writers  constantly 
quoted  the  Scriptures,  and  appealed  to  them  as  autho- 
rities on  all  occasions,  as  other  writers  have  done  since 
their  day — though  they  did  this,  and  it  is  a  strong 
proof  of  their  familiarity  with  them — but  I  mean  that 
they  thought  and  spoke  and  wrote  the  thoughts  and 
words  and  phrases  of  the  Bible,  and  that  they  did  this 
constantly  and  habitually  as  the  natural  mode  of  ex- 
pressing themselves.  They  did  it,  too,  not  exclusively 
in  theological  or  ecclesiastical  matters,  but  in  histories, 
biographies,  familiar  letters,  legal  instruments,  and 
documents  of  every  description.  I  do  not  know  that  I 
can  fully  express  my  meaning,  but  perhaps  I  may  ren- 
der it  more  clear  if  I  repeat  that  I  do  not  so  much 
refer  to  direct  quotations  of  Scripture,  as  to  the  fact 
that  their  ideas  seem  to  have  fallen  so  naturally  into 
the  words  of  Scripture,  that  they  were  constantly  refer- 
ring to  them  in  a  way  of  passing  allusion,  which  is  now 
very  puzzling  to  those  who  are  unacquainted  with  the 
phraseology  of  the  Vulgate,  and  forms  one  of  the 
greatest  impediments  in  the  way  of  many  who  wish 
to  read  their  works.  It  is  a  difficulty  which  no  dic- 
tionary or  glossary  will  reach.  What  the  reader  wants, 
and  the  only  thing  that  will  help  him,  is  a  concordance 
of  the  Vulgate,  in  which  to  look  out  such  words  as 
seem  to  be  used  in  a  strange  and  unintelligible  way. 
Without  seeing  them  in  their  original  context  there  is 
little  chance  of  discovering  their  meaning — but  then  is 
it  not  clear  that  the  passage  was  present  to  the  mind 
of  the  writer,  and  that  he  expected  it  to  be  so  to  those 
of  his  readers  ?     How  could  it  be  otherwise  ? 


OF    SCRIPTURAL    KNOWLEDGE.  471 

It  will,  I  hope,  be  understood  that  I  am  not  setting 
forth  all  these  writers,  or  all  those  for  whom  they 
wrote,  as  persons  having  a  very  full  and  clear  understand- 
ing of  the  Bible,  who  had  imbibed  its  spirit,  steadfastly 
believed  its  doctrines,  and  punctually  obeyed  its  pre- 
cepts.    I  would  as  soon  answer  for  all  Cromwell's  lambs. 

I  grant  too  that  scriptural  quotations  and  allusions 
were  often  made  in  the  worst  possible  taste,  and  some- 
times with  the  grossest  absurdity.     The  specimen  which 
I  have  given  at  p.  242,  will  I  trust  prevent  my  being 
suspected  of  any  wish  to  deny  or  conceal  this.     What 
could  be  more  unlucky  than  the  allusion  to  Rahab  and 
Babylon  ?      What   but   inveterate   habit   could    have 
seduced  any  man  into  such  absurdity?     But,  among 
the  extracts  which  I  have  given,  the  reader  will  easily 
find  more  creditable  illustrations  of  my  meaning ;  and 
if  he  suspects  them  of  having  been  partially  selected, 
or  thinks  (as  he  justly  may)  that  they  are  not  of  them- 
selves sufficient  to  constitute  a  full  proof — for  how  can 
the  matter,  from  its  very  nature,  be  proved  by  extracts 
however  numerous  and  varied  ? — let  him  take  the  first 
half  dozen  writers  of  the  period  which  he  can  lay  his 
hands  on,  and  resolve  on  making  out  the  sense  of  half 
a  dozen  pages  in  each,  and  I  have  no  doubt  that  he 
will  find  enough  to   make  him  suspect  that  further 
enquiry  would  prove  the  truth  of  what  I  have  been 
stating.     In  the  meanwhile  I  beg  him  to  remember, 
that  not  having  distinctly  stated  this  fact  in  the  fore- 
going papers,  I  have  not  there  brought  forwrard  such  ex- 
tracts as  I  should  have  given  in  proof  and  illustration. 
One  therefore,  and   I  freely  confess  that  it  is  rather 
a  singular  one,  I  will  here  give,  and  beside  its  bear- 
ing on  the  precise  point  under  discussion,  it  may  carry 
with  it  some  ground  for  reflection  on  several  questions 
of  some  interest — what  was  the  feeling  of  the  period? 
what    could,    and    did,    an    archbishop    preach    before 


472  BARDO,    ARCHBISHOP 

an    Emperor,    in   the    Dark   Ages  ?    and  how  was  it 
received  ? 

Bar  do  was  born  in  or  about  the  year  981  at  Opers- 
hoven  in  Weteravia,  or,  as  it  would  have  been  described 
in  more  modern  times,  in  the  upper  circle  of  the  Rhine. 
At  his  baptism  one  of  his  godfathers  gave  him  a  helmet, 
a  lamb,  and  a  psalter.  His  biographer  (who  appears 
to  have  been  almost,  or  quite,  his  contemporary)  tells 
us  that  the  first  of  these  three  things  prefigured  the 
arms  which  he  should  successfully  use  in  his  spiritual 
warfare,  the  second  his  patience  which  was  remark- 
able even  from  his  earliest  years,  and  the  third  the 
great  profit  which  he  would  receive  by  the  study  of 
Psalmody.  As  soon  as  he  was  weaned  his  parents  (et  in 
divina  sapientes,  et  in  humana  prudentes)  sent  him, 
with  his  psalter,  to  an  old  woman  named  Benedicta  to 
learn  his  letters.  She  became  fond  of  the  child,  and 
while  he  lay  in  her  bosom  she  taught  him  all  she  knew 
herself.  Thus  in  a  short  time,  and  as  in  play,  he  had 
learned  to  repeat  all  his  psalter.  He  never  forgot  her 
affection  and  services ;  and,  when  he  was  an  archbishop, 
he  became,  as  his  biographer  expresses  it,  a  nurse  to  his 
old  nurse,  and  liberally  provided  for  her. 

When  he  had  learned  his  Psalter,  his  parents  sent 
him  to  school  at  the  famous  monastery  of  Fulda,  then 
governed  by  Abbot  Archanbald,  where  he  made  great 
progress.  But  though,  through  fear  of  the  school- 
master, he  worked  at  secular  learning,  his  mind  was 
engrossed  by  the  Psalter,  the  hymns  of  the  church 4,  the 
Gospels,  and  the  like.  In  short,  he  became  a  monk  at 
Fulda ;  and  gained  the  high  character  of  being  an  useful, 
peaceable,  and  peace-making  member  of  the  society, 


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


OF    MENTZ.  473 

loved  and  respected  by  all  his  brethren,  as  one  who 
learned  by  reading  and  taught  by  practice.  His  bio- 
grapher assigns  to  him,  even  at  this  early  period  of  his 
life,  the  gift  of  prophecy,  and  adduces  the  following 
proofs.  One  of  his  favourite  books  was  St.  Gregory's 
on  the  Pastoral  office ;  and  he  was  always  reading  it. 
Some  of  his  friends,  one  day,  asked  him  the  reason  of 
this.  "  Oh ! "  replied  he,  "  when  some  foolish  king 
comes  here,  and  finds  nobody  who  will  consent  to  be  an 
archbishop,  he  may  perhaps  make  me  one,  and  I  must 
be  prepared  for  it ;" — on  which  they  all  laughed.  His 
biographer  gives  Bardo  credit  for  a  foreknowledge  of 
that  which  he  affected  to  say  in  jest ;  but  knowing  as 
wre  do,  and  as  Bardo  did,  the  extreme  probability  that 
the  Emperor  should  look  to  Fulda  for  an  archbishop, 
we  are  not  bound  to  suppose  anything  very  wonderful. 
We  must,  however,  I  think,  at  the  same  time,  acknow- 
ledge, that  if  the  young  monk  had  any  suspicion  of 
what  really  befel  him  more  than  twenty  years  after- 
wards, there  was  nothing  discreditable  in  the  way  in 
which  he  was  actuated  by  it. 

So  things  went  on.  His  influence  increased  and  he 
became  Dean ;  and  when,  in  process  of  time,  the  abbot 
founded  a  small  off-set,  which  he  called  the  New 
Monastery  in  honour  of  St.  Andrew,  Bardo  was  sent 
to  preside  over  it.  While  he  held  this  office  the 
Emperor  Conrad  came  to  Fulda.  The  Abbot  Richard, 
among  other  things,  took  him  to  see  the  New  Monas- 
tery, and  Bardo  came  forth  to  meet  his  majesty  with 
prompt  duty  and  reverence.  After  prayers,  when  they 
had  quitted  the  church,  the  emperor  inquired  minutely 
about  the  place,  what  were  the  services,  who  were  the 
monks,  who  the  father, — and  when  he  heard  Bardo's 
name,  and  found  that  he  was  a  person  who  had  long 
been  well  known  to  him  by  reputation,  he  was  M-ized 
with  sudden  joy,    repeatedly  saluted,   embraced,    and 


474  BARDO,    ARCHBISHOP 

kissed  him,  and  assured  him  that,  on  the  first  occa- 
sion that  might  offer,  he  should  feel  bound  to  promote 
him. 

The  biographer  ingenuously  tells  us  that  this  pro- 
mise was  the  more  easily  to  be  accounted  for,  from  the 
fact  that  Bardo  was  related  to  the  empress ;  and  adds 
that  he  did  not  omit,  so  far  as  he  was  able,  to  make  a 
proper  offering  to  the  imperial  dignity,  for  he  gave  the 
emperor  a  Kliotetra\  of  workmanship  worthy  of  royalty, 
which,  by  leave  of  his  abbot,  he  had  prepared  for  the 
occasion  of  the  imperial  visit.  Not  long  after  the 
emperor  sent  for  him  to  court,  and  received  him  with 
great  respect.  He  introduced  him  to  his  friends,  say- 
ing, "  Have  you  heard  of  Bardo  of  Fulda?"  "  A  great 
deal,"  said  they.  "  What  ?"  asked  the  emperor.  They 
replied,  "  All  that  is  good."  "  If  you  have,"  said  the 
emperor,  "believe  it,  for  it  is  all  true.  If  this  is  not 
a  man  whom  we  may  praise  with  truth,  we  know  not 
who  is ;"  and  proceeding  to  speak  of  the  civilities  which 
he  had  received  from  the  pious  father,  he  brought  him 
into  favour  with  them  all. 

It  was  not  very  long  before  Bardo  was  the  abbot  of 
two  monasteries;  and  in  process  of  time  the  arch- 
bishopric of  Mentz  became  vacant.  It  would  have 
been  the  natural  course  of  things,  or  rather  it  would 
have  been  according  to  the  course  of  alternate  proceed- 
ing, that  the  Abbot  of  Fulda  should  have  succeeded  to 
it ;  but  he  was  passed  over.  In  this  he  appears  to  have 
acquiesced,  whether  simply  on  the  ground  of  a  dream 
which  he  is  reported  to  have  had,  may  perhaps  be  ques- 
tioned. But  it  was  so  in  fact,  and  the  clergy  and  laity 
of  the  diocese,  few  of  whom  perhaps  knew  as  much 


5  Mabillon  follows  Father  Papebroche  in  supposing  this  to  mean  a 
faldstool.  He  adds  "Vide  Glossarium  Cangianum;"  but  that  does  not 
help  much. 


OF    MENTZ.  475 

about  Bar  do  as  the  reader  and  I  do,  seem  to  have  been 
quite  at  a  loss  to  know  by  whom  the  archiepiscopal 
chair  was  to  be  filled. 

It  was  the  month  of  June,  and  the  feast  of  St.  Peter 
and  St.  Paul  drew  near.  On  the  eve  of  that  festival, 
it  was  whispered  that  the  appointment  would  be  made 
next  day.  As  soon  as  it  was  light  the  emperor  and 
empress  entered  the  church.  After  prayers  offered  for 
divine  direction  in  the  business,  they  came  forth;  and, 
a  multitude  being  assembled,  they  sat  down  to  consult 
on  the  matter.  Much  murmur  there  was  in  the  crowd ; 
among  the  assembled  prelates  also  each  one  was  sug- 
gesting this  or  that  person  on  account  of  some  virtue 
or  qualification,  except  indeed  those  who  knew  the 
mind  of  the  emperor,  and  they  waited  for  him  to 
declare  it.  When,  however,  the  day  had  made  some 
progress  and  nothing  had  been  decided,  silence  was 
made,  and  the  emperor  said,  "  Fathers  and  brethren, 
we  announce  to  you  that  which  we  have  heard  and 
proved.  I  know  a  man  of  illustrious  virtue,  perfect 
holiness,  singular  talent,  a  vessel  of  chastity,  a  son  of 
wisdom,  one  that  has  his  body  in  subjection,  eminent  in 
charity,  poor  to  this  world,  rich  unto  God,  to  whom  our 
authority,  if  there  be  any  weight  in  human  judgment, 
inclines." 

This  speech  of  the  emperor  all  the  great  men  re- 
peated to  those  around  them;  but  still  as  no  name 
had  been  mentioned  they  were  asking  one  another  who 
was  meant.  Having  made  this  favourable  impression 
on  their  minds,  the  emperor  called  for  Bardo  by  his 
name  and  said,  "Father!"  at  the  same  time  beckon- 
ing him  to  draw  near.  How  did  he  look  then  ?  How 
constant  in  mind,  how  unchanged  in  countenance,  how 
firm  in  step.  As  he  came  near  all  the  courtiers  point- 
ing him  out  to  one  another  said,  "This,  this  is  he;" 
and  all  turned  their  eyes  upon  him,  and  their  ears  to 


476  BARDO,    ARCHBISHOP 

the  emperor.  When  he  stood  before  the  throne  the 
emperor  said,  "  We  know  the  privilege  of  Fulda,  and 
do  not  infringe  the  law  of  our  predecessors  ;  but  there 
are  those  who  know  the  reason  why  we  do  not  pro- 
mote the  abbot,  and  we  appoint  you,  one  of  that  house, 
to  be  prelate  according  to  the  will  of  the  pious."  I  do 
not  know  whether  Bardo  or  any  of  his  friends  thought 
of  a  young  monk  who  had  once  said  something  saucy 
about  Gregory's  Treatise  on  the  Pastoral  Office;  but 
that  was  an  old  story,  for  he  was  about  fifty  years  old 
when  he  was  consecrated  on  the  29th  of  June  in  the 
year  of  our  Lord  1031. 

He  went  straightway  to  his  see,  and  set  to  work 
zealously ;  but  the  emperor  keeping  the  ensuing  Feast 
of  the  Nativity  at  Goslar,  he  attended  him  there.  On 
Christmas  day  he,  as  his  rank  required,  performed 
mass,  and  delivered  a  sermon  which  seems  to  have 
been  so  brief  and  simple  that  it  disappointed  his  au- 
dience 6.  Indeed,  his  biographer  tells  us,  "  there  were 
some  there  who  seized  the  occasion  to  vomit  forth  the 
gall  of  their  malice,  murmuring  that  such  a  rustic  little 
man  should  have  been  made  the  prelate  of  so  great  a 
see,  but  in  fact  jealous  because  he  was  a  monk.  The 
emperor  also  was  sorry  that  he  had  so  highly  extolled 
him  in  public,  and  repented  that  he  had  raised  him  to 
that  most  celebrated  archbishoprick.  So  in  that  day 
some  were  heard  saying,  '  He  is  a  monk,  he  might  be 
good  for  something  in  his  own  little  monastery,  but  he 
is  not  fit  to  sit  in  that  seat.'  And,  whoever  had  a 
fling  at  him,  'Mo'  [i.  e.  the  first  syllable  of  ' mona- 


6  "  Sermonem  declamavit  verbis  non  pluribus  (quam  ordinabatur)  ad 
vesperam."  In  a  note  on  the  words  in  the  parenthesis  Mabillon  says,  "  Et 
haec  quoque  supplevit  Papebrochius  ob  codicis  legendi  difficultatem."  I 
suppose  this  means  that  he  did  not  make  more  of  a  sermon  on  this  great 
occasion,  than  might  have  been  expected  at  vespers.  But  I  do  not  pretend 
to  understand  it. 


OF    MENTZ.  477 


chus']  was  at  the  tip  of  his  tongue,  so  that  it  was  easy 
to  see  where  the  chief  offence  lay.  The  emperor  ate 
scarcely  any  dinner,  and  took  no  thought  of  delicacies, 
for  he  was  hurt  by  the  biting  sarcasms  of  the  prelate's 


enemies." 


"  The  next  day  came,  and  Dioderich,  bishop  of  Metz, 
performing  mass,  poured  forth  all  his  learning  with 
lavish  prodigality.  All  extolled  him  saying,  *  This  is 
a  bishop.'  The  holy  man  [Bardo]  however,  who  was 
not  ignorant  that  '  a  fool  uttereth  all  his  mind  :  but  a 
wise  man  keepeth  it  in  till  afterwards  Y  and  who  was 
neither  elated  by  favour  nor  depressed  by  the  carping 
of  envy,  took  it  patiently,  haying  made  up  his  mind 
what  course  to  pursue. 

"The  third  day  arrived,  and  a  message  was  sent  to 
the  pious  father  to  know  who  should  perform  mass. 
He  intimated  that  he  meant,  by  the  divine  assistance, 
to  do  it  himself.  His  friends  craftily  endeavoured  to 
divert  him  from  his  purpose,  recommending  him  to 
order  somebody  else  to  do  it  on  account  of  the  fatigue ; 
but,  in  truth,  being  ashamed  of  the  sermon  which  he 
had  delivered  two  days  before.  But  he  thinking  within 
himself  '  my  glory  will  I  not  give  to  another,'  said  hum- 
bly, '  Every  one  shall  bear  his  own  burthen 8 ;'  and 
when  they  talked  of  the  trouble,  he  said,  '  Which 
is  best,  for  me  to  take  trouble  in  doing  what  ought 
to  be  done,  or  to  give  way  to  negligence  V     And  so 


"  Prow  xxix.  1 1. 

8  My  object  in  relating  this  history  leads  me  to  call  the  reader's  atten- 
tion to  this  writer's  use  of  scripture  phraseology.  He  has  just  told  us 
what  the  Archbishop  knew  when  the  Bishop  of  Metz  preached,  and  now 
he  tells  us  what  he  thought  when  asked  to  appoint  somebody  else  to  say 
mass.  If  there  is  in  the  latter  of  these  anything  approaching  to  profane- 
ness,  it  must  be  remembered  that  the  blame  is  with  the  writer,  who  pro- 
bably used  the  words  as  those  most  naturally  suggested,  and  not  on 
Bardo.  What  he  knew,  or  thought,  he  would  perhaps  have  expressed 
better  ;  and  what  he  said  was  quite  unobjectionable. 


478  BARDO,    ARCHBISHOP 

being  prepared,  he  went,  with  the  fear  of  God,  to  the 
altar." 

On  this  occasion  he  delivered  a  sermon  which  I 
should  be  glad  to  give  entire ;  but  even  in  the  smaller 
type  used  in  this  volume  for  extracts,  I  apprehend  that 
it  would  occupy  nearly  fourteen  pages.  It  is  therefore 
out  of  the  question. 

And  what  is  the  sermon  about?  Thus  stimulated, 
how  did  the  archbishop  endeavour  to  regain  his  ground, 
and  please  his  noble,  and  critical,  and  now  prejudiced 
audience  ?  Was  his  sermon  a  highflown  invocation  of 
all  the  saints  in  the  calendar  ?  Not  a  word  of  any 
saint  but  those  mentioned  in  the  Bible,  and  not  a  word 
of  invoking  them.  Was  it  a  discourse  on  transubstan- 
tiation,  purgatory,  pilgrimages,  penances,  relics,  images, 
indulgences  ?  I  do  not  think  there  is  an  allusion  to 
one  of  those  subjects.  Was  it  a  string  of  fulsome  com- 
pliments to  his  imperial  patron  ?  It  does  not  recognize 
the  fact  of  his  presence.  Was  it  something  in  the 
"  good-christian  "  way,  about  tithes  and  "  presents  to 
churchmen  ?"  No  hint  of  the  kind  that  I  see.  Was 
it  a  catena  from  the  fathers,  or  a  cento  from  the  clas- 
sics, to  shew  his  learning?  No  uninspired  writer  is 
named,  no  book  is  quoted  but  the  Bible. 

What,  then,  was  it  ?  The  reader  will  not  perhaps  be 
much  forwarder  for  being  told  that  his  text  was,  "Prae 
fulgore  in  conspectu  ejus  nubes  transierunt,"  Ps.  xvii.  13, 
which  the  Douay  version  renders  "  At  the  brightness 
that  was  before  him  the  clouds  passed."  Our  transla- 
tion (which  makes  it  Ps.  xviii.  12.)  has  "  At  the  bright- 
ness that  was  before  him  his  thick  clouds  passed."  But 
the  subject  of  the  sermon  was  the  pre-eminent  and 
excellent  glory  of  Him  whose  Advent  in  the  flesh  they 
were  celebrating — the  Brightness  of  the  Sun  of  Righte- 
ousness which  at  once,  as  it  were,  gives  and  eclipses  all 
the  radiance  of  those  clouds  which  shine  with  borrowed 


OF    MENTZ.  479 

lustre,  and  which,  brought  into  comparison  with  him, 
are  as  nothing.  Should  the  notion  that  the  clouds 
represent  saints  appear  fanciful,  it  would  be  easy  to 
justify  the  archbishop,  so  far  as  that  can  be  done  by 
patristic  authority 9;  but  my  object  is  not  to  defend  his 
choice  of  a  text,  but  to  shew  how  he  treated  it ;  and 
that  principally  as  it  regards  the  knowledge  of  the 
Scriptures  which  he  displayed  ' . 

The  archbishop  began  his  sermon  by  a  reference  to 
St.  John,  and  to  the  fact  that  it  was  his  day ;  and  after 
stating  that  the  Evangelist  would  explain  the  language 
of  the  Psalmist,  and  having  entered  at  some  length  into 
an  enquiry  respecting  his  character  and  authority,  he 
proceeded  thus; — 

"After  that  this  great  steward  of  the  Lord  has  received 
the  treasure  wherewith  to  make  gain — not  I  think  in  three, 
or  in  five,  or  even  in  ten, — but,  as  I  believe,  a  thousand 
talents2  committed  to  him — generous  to  his  fellow  servants, 
he  immediately  gives  forth  a  grand  doctrine,  In  the  beginning 
was  the  Word,  and  the  Word  was  with  God,  and  the  Word 
was  God.  The  same  was  in  the  beginning  with  God3.  And 
after  he  had  added  somewhat  respecting  this  divine  Bright- 

9  I  think  St.  Jerome  makes  the  clouds  in  this  text  to  be  the  prophets 
who  *  passed'  over  from  the  Jews  to  the  Gentiles  as  the  coming  of  Christ ; 
but  it  is  sufficient  to  mention  Origen's  eighth  homily  on  Jeremiah. 

1  In  doing  this,  however,  I  am  conscious  that  the  preacher  will  be  pre- 
sented to  the  reader  under  a  twofold  disadvantage.  First,  Father  Pape- 
broche,  as  I  have  mentioned  in  a  preceding  note,  seems  to  have  found  it 
rather  difficult  to  read  the  manuscript ;  and  I  have  no  doubt  that  in  some 
places  the  text  is  corrupt,  and  does  not  do  justice  to  the  author.  Secondly, 
as  the  point,  and  application,  of  a  passage  of  Scripture  would  sometimes 
be  greatly  diminished,  if  not  entirely  lost,  by  giving  our  translation,  and 
as,  with  very  little  exception,  it  supplies  a  literal  translation  of  the  texts 
as  quoted  in  the  sermon,  I  have  given  most  of  the  passages  from  the 
Douay  version.  These  will  seem  strange  and  unnatural  to  those  who  are 
accustomed  only  to  our  version,  but  perhaps  the  variations  which  they 
perceive  may  tend  to  illustrate  what  I  have  said  respecting  the  necessity  of 
being  familiar  with  the  language  of  the  Vulgate,  before  we  can  appreciate 
the  scriptural  knowledge  of  these  writers. 

2  Matt.  xxv.  15.  3  John  i.  1. 


480  BARDO,    ARCHBISHOP 

ness,  that  he  might  declare  its  greatness  by  a  similitude, 
he  presently  introduced  a  great  cloud,  or  rather  light,  which 
in  comparison  with  this  Brightness  he  declared  to  be  no  light ; 
for,  saith  he,  There  was  a  man  sent  from  God,  whose  name  was 
John 4,  and  then  he  adds,  He  was  not  light 5.  It  is  indeed 
written  of  John,  He  was  a  burning  and  a  shining  light 6 ,-  but 
John  the  Evangelist  says,  He  was  not  light 7.  And  if  he, 
than  whom  none  born  of  woman  was  greater 8,  was  not  light, 
then  is  none  born  of  woman  who  was  less  than  he  ;  for  if 
the  greater  is  not,  much  less  is  the  lesser.  John  has  ex- 
plained the  meaning  of  the  Psalmist,  who  said,  'At  the 
brightness  that  was  before  him  the  clouds  passed.''  What 
is  this  Brightness?  the  evangelist  says  that  when  Jesus 
transfigured  Himself  in  the  mountain  his  face  did  shine  as  the 
sun 9.  Here  is  the  Brightness  ;  and  of  the  clouds  Isaiah  says, 
Who  are  these  that  fly  as  clouds  x  ?  The  assemblies  of  the 
saints,  says  he,  shine  as  clouds ;  yea,  more  than  clouds,  as  it 
is  written  they  shall  shine  as  the  sun  in  the  kingdom  of  their 
father 2.  They  shine  ;  one  in  chastity,  another  in  simplicity, 
another  in  poverty  of  spirit,  another  as  a  peacemaker  so  as 
to  deserve  to  be  called  a  son  of  God3,  another  is  crowned  in 
blood,  another  clothed  in  the  white  garments  of  virginity, 
another  meek  so  that  he  will  hurt  no  one,  another  wise  so 
as  to  teach  the  ignorant,  and  to  conclude  generally,  each  one 
specially  shines  with  some  particular  virtue.  But  whatsoever 
the  measure  of  this  may  be,  at  the  same  time,  the  whole  is 
in  God.  For  that  Brightness,  Light  of  light,  God  of  God, 
God  the  Son  of  God  the  Father — that  Brightness,  I  say,  of 
which  John  saith  that  He  teas  the  true  light,  which  enlighten- 
eth  every  man  that  cometh  into  this  world 4 — the  sower  of  all 
virtues,  the  giver  of  all  piety,  the  author  of  all  holiness,  He 
himself  had  as  a  whole  that  which  he  imparted  to  each. 
What  he  disseminated  in  parts  abounded  as  a  whole  in  Him. 
Whatever  be  the  goodness  of  any  one,  he  cannot  be  com- 
pared with  Him  who  did  no  sin,  neither  was  guile  found  in  his 
mouth  5.  There  is  no  man  that  sinneth  not 6,  not  even  an 
infant  of  one   night,  if  its  life  be  on  the   earth.     For  the 


4  John  i.  G.  5   Ibid.  8  fi  Ibid.  v.  35.         7  Ibid.  i.  8. 

8  Matt.  xi.  11.         "   Ibid.  xvii.  2.     '  Is.  Ix.  8.  -  Matt.  xiii.  43. 

:<  Ibid.  v.  9.  "  John  i.  9.  1  Pet.  ii.  22.       fi  1  Kings  viii.  46. 


OF    MEXTZ.  481 

heavens  are  not  clean  in  his  sight1,  how  much  more  shall  men 
fr/io  dwell  in  houses  of  day,  who  have  an  earthly  foundation, 
he  consumed  as  tcith  the  moth 8  ?  Of  whatsoever  splendour 
and  holiness  the  elect  may  be,  they  cannot  be  compared  with 
that  divine  Brightness,  for  in  comparison  of  Him  they  are  as 
nothing.  Thev  are  sanctified,  it  is  He  that  sanctifieth. 
They  are  luminous,  He  illuminates.  They  partake.  He 
imparts.  Whatever  they  are  He  is  also  ;  but  they  are  not 
all  that  He  is.  Whence  it  is  well  said  in  the  book  of  Job, 
both  the  innocent  and  the  tricked  he  consumeth 9.  That  He 
should  consume  the  wicked  is  plain  enough,  but  his  con- 
suming the  innocent,  though  it  may  seem  doubtful,  is  equally 
true.  He  consumes  the  innocent  because  He  converts  him 
into  Himself,  because  he  who  is  innocent  is  innocent  in 
God,  that  none  may  presume  on  his  merits,  but  he  that  glo- 
rieth  let  him  glory  in  the  Lord1.  Or  thus,  He  consumes  the 
innocent  because  by  comparison  with  Himself  He  brings  him 
to  nothing ;  whence  it  is  written,  Shall  man  be  justified  in 
comparison  of  God,  or  shall  a  man  be  more  pure  than  his 
Maker 2  ?  (factore  suo  purior  erit  vir)  and  the  Psalmist  says, 
In  thy  sight  no  man  living  shall  be  justified4  (non  justifica- 
bitur  in  conspectu  tuo  omnis  vivens).  i  Living,"  he  says, — 
for  whether  he  is  a  '  man '  (vir),  or  whether  he  is  '  living ' 
(vivens),  he  shall  not  be  justified.  For  he  that  is  illustrious 
in  virtue  shall  not  be  compared.  He  does  not  say  no  man 
(omnis  homo)  shall  be  justified  in  his  sight,  but  no  'vivens,' 
for  by  that  word  he  draws  no  limit ;  but  he  would  only  have 
been  superfluously  stating  what  nobody  doubted  if  he  had 
said  that  no  man  (homo)  should  be  justified  in  his  sight. 
But  he  has  plainly  defined  his  meaning,  by  saying  '  living ' 
(omnis  vivens).  Living,  he  saith,  simple,  innocent,  chaste, 
meek,  modest,  poor  in  spirit,  humble,  or  alive  in  any  holi- 
ness, shall  not  be  likened.  Why? — because,  Who  in  the 
clouds  can  be  compared  to  the  Lord :  or  who  among  the  sons  of 
God  shall  be  like  to  God?  God,  who  is  glorified  in  the  assem- 
bly of  the  saints,  great  and  terrible  above  all  them  that  are 
about  Him  \  Who,  he  saith,  in  the  clouds  can  be  compared 
to  the  Lord  I     None. 


7  Job  xv.  15.         s  Ibid.  iv.  19.         9  Ibid.  ix.  22.         '   9  Cor.  x.  15. 
-  Job  iv.  17-  '  IV  cxlii.  2.  4  Ibid.  Ixxxviii. 

I  i 


482  BARDO,    ARCHBISHOP 

"  Behold  the  clouds,  but  at  the  Brightness  that  was  before 
Him  they  have  passed  away  ;  that  is,  the  illumined  clouds  could 
not  equal  the  illuminating  brightness.  Take  away  that  which 
enlightens,  and  what  is  enlightened  becomes  obscure.  Take 
away  the  sun,  and  the  clouds  are  in  darkness.  Restore  the 
sun,  and  the  clouds  are  in  their  beauty.  Take  away  what  is 
divine,  and  what  is  human  is  nothing.  Add  what  is  divine, 
and  what  is  human  is  great.  Nor  let  us  be  staggered  at  that 
which  is  written,  for  both  He  that  sanctifieth,  and  they  who 
are  sanctified,  are  all  of  one 5  ,•  for  it  is  one  thing  to  be  so 
adoptively,  and  another  to  be  so  substantially.  For  many 
are  called  '  sons  of  God,1  as  it  is  said  of  the  peacemakers, 
Blessed  are  the  peace-makers :  for  they  shall  be  called  the 
children  of  God 6  ,*  and  many  also  '  gods,1  as  it  is  said,  / 
have  said :  You  are  gods,  and  all  of  you  the  sons  of  the  most 
High 7.  But  this  adoptively,  and  not  substantively.  There 
is  but  One  who  is  the  Son  of  God  substantively,  many 
adoptively  ;  neither  one  adoptively  nor  many  substantively. 
The  adoptive  indeed  partake  with  the  substantive,  but  the 
substantive  imparts  to  the  adoptive  ;  neither  does  he  partake 
nor  do  they  impart ;  but  they  partake  and  He  imparts.  This 
is  the  Apostle's  meaning,  though  he  might  seem  to  be  stating 
something  contrary,  when  he  says,  Thou  hast  loved  justice, 
and  hated  iniquity :  therefore,  God,  thy  God,  hath  anointed 
thee  with  the  oil  of  gladness  above  thy  fellows*.  He  saith 
1  above  thy  fellows,'  (prse  participibus  tuis)  which  sounds  as 
if  he  meant  that  God  was  a  partaker,  and  took  a  part,  which 
is  altogether  contrary  to  truth  ;  for,  according  to  the  Apostle, 
In  Him  dicelleth  all  the  fulness  of  the  Godhead  corporally  9. 
But  let  us  attend  to  the  first  partv  that  we  may  fully  under- 
stand what  follows ;  for  he  saith,  '  Thou  hast  loved  justice,' 
and  presently  after  '  God  hath  anointed  thee  with  the  oil  of 
gladness  above  thy  fellows,''  and  the  prophet,  With  my  holy 
oil  I  have  anointed  him,  the  enemy  shall  have  no  advantage  over 
him  1  ,•  for  since  the  Son  of  God  loved  justice,  by  his  gift 
others  loved  it  also,  and  were  partakers  of  Him  who  loved. 
But  He  was  anointed  above  all,  because  the  enemy  hath  no 
advantage  over  Him. 


5  Heb.  ii.  11.  6  Matt.  v.  9.  ~>   Ps.  lxxxi.  6. 

8  Heb.  i.  9  9  Col.  ii  9.  '   Ps.  lxvxviii.  21.  23. 


OF    MENTZ.  483 

"  Or,  if  you  will  rather  have  it  that  in  his  assumed  human 
nature  He  is  a  partaker  (as  the  Apostle  says,  He  is  not 
ashamed  to  call  them  brethren,  saying,  Behold  I  and  my  children, 
whom  God  hath  given  me 2  ,•  and  again,  Because  the  children  are 
partakers  of  flesh  and  blood,  he  also  himself  in  like  manner  hath 
been  partaker  of  the  same3),  we  must  recur  to  the  same  point, 
that  in  him  dicelleth  all  the  fulness  of  the  Godhead  corporally* ; 
but  as  to  them,  to  one  is  given  by  the  Spirit  the  tcord  of  wisdom : 
to  another  the  word  of  knowledge,  to  another  the  discerning  of 
spirits,  to  another  the  grace  of  healing 5,  to  another  something 
else ;  and  it  is  divided  unto  each  according  to  His  will,  and 
thus  they  partake,  and  He  imparts.  And  therefore  though  it 
is  said  of  the  saints,  You  are  the  lights  of  the  tcorld6,  it  is  but 
by  participation,  and  not  substantially,  for  they  partake  from 
Him  who  is  the  true  light  which  enlighteneth  every  man  that 
cometh  into  this  world7.  For  although  it  is  written  of  John 
the  Baptist,  He  was  a  burning  and  a  shining  light,  this  too  is 
only  adoptively,  and  not  substantively ;  whence  it  is  that  the 
Evangelist  has  in  some  degree  exposed  the  weakness  of  John, 
when  he  introduces  our  Lord  speaking  of  him,  and  adding, 
And  you  tcere  willing  for  a  time  to  rejoice  in  his  light.  They 
4  were  willing,1  He  says ;  but  He  is  silent  as  to  whether  they 
did  it  or  not,  that  He  might  after  a  sort  suggest  by  his  silence 
that  they  would  have  rejoiced,  but  were  not  able ;  for  he  was  a 
light  burning,  but  not  kindling ;  shining,  but  not  enlightening. 
And  this  cloud,  so  great  and  luminous,  has  passed  away  before 
the  divine  Brightness,  because  it  could  not  be  compared  unto 
it.  For  he  himself  said,  I  am  not  worthy  to  loose  the  latchet  of 
his  shoes 8. 

"  Great  clouds,  and  magnificently  radiant,  there  have  been 
from  the  beginning  of  the  world ;  but,  how  great  soever,  they 
have  passed  away  before  the  divine  Brightness.  For  I  say 
nothing  here  of  the  difference  between  that  which  is  from 
eternity,  and  that  which  is  limited  by  time,11  &c. 

The  preacher  then  proceeded  to  speak  of  the  ineffa- 
ble glory  of  God,  and  the  mystery   of  the  Trinity  in 


-  Heb.  ii.  11.  13.       3  Ibid.  ii.  14.       4  Col.  ii.  9.       5  1  Cor.  xii.  8.  10. 
6  Matt.  v.  14.  "  John  i.  9.  ■  Mark  i.  7. 

ii  2 


484  BARDO,    ARCHBISHOP 

Unity,  and  the  essential  Deity  of  Christ;  after  which 
he  continued  thus  ; — 

"  Saying  nothing,  I  repeat,  of  Him  whom  no  clouds  how 
radiant  soever  with  light  can  approach,  this  we  will  endeavour 
to  teach.  He  of  whom  it  is  written,  There  is  no  beauty  in 
him,  nor  comeliness:  and  we  haw  seen  him,  and  there  teas  no 
sightliness,  that  ice  should  be  desirous  of  him :  despised,  and  the 
most  abject  of  men,  a  man  of  sorrows,  and  acquainted  with 
infirmity:  and  his  look  was  as  it  were  hidden  and  despised, 
whereupon  we  esteemed  him  not,  how  it  is  that  He  is  also  that 
Brightness,  and  that  before  Him  the  clouds  have  passed 
away.  First  among  the  first  are  angels,  archangels,  thrones, 
dominions,  principalities,  powers,  virtues,  ardent  cherubim, 
burning  seraphim — great  clouds — always  in  light,  always  of 
light,  always  with  light — yet  not  themselves  light,  or  if  light 
not  unlimited,  not  incomprehensible.  Of  those  it  is  written, 
He  that  maJceth  his  angels,  spirits,  and  his  ministers,  a  flame  of 
fire g.  Of  that  Brightness  it  is  written,  Who  being  the  bright- 
ness of  his  glory,  and  the  figure  of  his  substance.  They  are 
made ;  He  is  substantive.  They  innumerable ;  He  is  one. 
They  great ;  He  greater ;  as  it  is  written,  Upholding  all 
things  by  the  word  of  his  power :.  Upholding  by  the  word  of 
His  power  all  things ;  angels  as  well  as  others." 

After  discoursing  on  the  superiority  of  the  glorified 
Redeemer  over  the  angels,  the  preacher  went  on ; — 

"  But  why  do  we  depress  the  angelic  dignity  by  that  ineffable 
majesty?  let  us  make  the  comparison  with  Him  in  whom  there 
was  no  beauty  nor  comeliness.  The  Apostle  saith,  Again 
when  He  bringeth  in  the  first  begotten  into  the  world  He  saith  : 
And  let  all  the  angels  of  God  adore  him.  Who  is  that  first 
begotten  ?  Is  it  He  of  whom  it  is  said  that  God  spared  not 
even  his  oicn  Son 2  f  Surely  it  is  He.  Surely  He  hath  borne 
our  infirmities,  and  carried  our  sorrows :  the  chastisement  of  our 
peace  icas  upon  him  3.  Surely  He  was  reputed  tvith  the  wicked  \ 
and  yet  of  Him  it  is  said,  And  let  all  the  angels  of  God  adore 
Him.  Where  now,  I  pray  you,  is  that  cloud?  From  the 
brightness  that  is  before  Him  it  has  passed  away. 

9  Heb.  i.  7.       '  Ibid.       2  Rom.  viii.  32.       :i  Is.  liii.  4,5.       A  Ibid.  12. 


OF    MENTZ.  485 

"Now  let  us  ascend,  my  brethren,  let  us  mind  the  things 
that  are  above,  where  Christ  is  sitting  at  the  right  hand  of 
God5,  and  let  us  say  in  words  plain,  and  full  of  the  Holy 
Spirit,  (for  no  man  can  say,  the  Lord  Jesus,  but  by  the  Holy 
Ghost ;)  that  this  is  that  Brightness,  proceeding  from  the  true 
sun  of  the  Father's  majesty,  and  enlightening  every  man 
that  cometh  into  the  world,  of  whom  the  Psalmist  said,  He 
shall  continue  with  the  sun,  and  be/ore  the  moon 6.  He  says  He 
shall  continue  with  the  sun  ;  for  none  other  is  there  found 
that  hath  not  past  away  at  the  brightness  that  is  before 
Him,  for  at  the  brightness  that  is  before  Him  the  clouds 
pass.  The  sun  continues  with  the  sun ;  and  shall  continue 
with  the  sun ;  for  it  is  said,  He  shall  come  doicn  like  rain  upon 
the  fleece 7.  That  He  might  shew  that  He  had  so  chosen  a 
mother  of  the  earth,  as  not  to  quit  his  Father  in  heaven,  he 
first  says,  '  He  shall  continue  with  the  sun,'  and  then  adds, 
in  his  days  shall  justice  spring  tip8.  In  his  days,  in  his  saints; 
that  they  may  be  not  only  clouds,  but  days,  of  which  days 
He  may  be  the  sun,  that  there  may  be  none  among  the  sons 
of  God  like  unto  him9.  This  is  our  God,  and  there  shall  no 
other  be  accounted  of  in  comparison  of  him.  He  found  out  all 
the  way  of  hioicledge  and  gave  it  to  Jacob  his  servant,  and  to 
Israel  his  beloved,  Afterwards  he  was  seen  upon  earth,  and 
conversed  with  men l.  Of  whom  the  Father's  voice  said, 
This  is  my  beloved  Son,  in  whom  I  am  well  pleased2 .  And  the 
Apostle  to  the  Ephesians,  Who  hath  predestinated  us  unto  the 
adoption  of  children  through  Jesus  Christ  unto  himself ;  accord- 
ing to  the  purpose  of  his  will :  unto  the  praise  of  the  glory  of 
his  arace,  in  which  he  hath  qraced  us  in  his  beloved  Son3. 

"  Let  us  say  Jesus  ;  for  there  is  no  other  name  under  heaven 
given  to  men,  whereby  we  must  be  saved*.  In  the  name  of 
Jesus  every  knee  should  boic,  of  those  that  are  in  heaven,  on 
earth,  and  under  the  earth,  and  that  every  tongue  should  c 
fess  that  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  is  in  the  glory  of  God  the 
Father 5.  Therefore  from  the  brightness  that  is  before  Him 
the  clouds  have  passed.  They  have  passed, — the  clouds 
have   not   been   found ;     all   the   sons   of    Goo    in   his   pre- 


Col.iii    I,  _'.  '   Ps.  lxxii.  5.  '•    Ibid.  6.  ■  Ibid.  7. 

Ph.  Ixxxvin.  7.  '  Baruch  iii.  36.  Matt  ill  17- 

Ephes.  i.  5.  '  Acts  iv.  12.  Phil.  ii.  II. 


486  BARDO,  ARCHBISHOP 

sence,  when  brought  into  comparison  with  his  Brightness, 
before  his  Deity,  for  in  the  name  of  Jesus  every  knee  of  those 
in  heaven,  in  earth  and  under  the  earth  is  bowed.  This  is 
that  bread  of  angels  which  man  eat 6 ;  who  saith  Himself,  /  am 
the  living  bread  ichich  came  down  from  heaven7;  of  whom 
John  says,  He  that  cometh  from  heaven  is  above  all6.  How 
great  is  He,  Lord  in  heaven,  on  earth  a  servant,  as  it  is 
written,  He  emptied  himself  taking  the  form  of  a  servant9.  In 
heaven  the  Creator,  on  earth  created,  as  it  is  written,  Drop 
down  dew,  ye  heavens,  from  above,  and  let  the  clouds  rain  the 
just :  let  the  earth  be  opened,  and  bud  forth  a  Saviour :  and 
let  justice  spring  up  together l ;  and  immediately,  /  the  Lord 
have  created  him  2.  Who  is  like  unto  thee  among  the  strong, 
0  Lord  ?  who  is  like  to  thee,  glorious  in  holiness,  terrible  and 
praiseworthy,  doing  wonders 3.  Hast  not  thou  struck  the  proud 
one,  and  wounded  the  dragon  f  hast  not  thou  dried  up  the  sea, 
the  icater  of  the  mighty  deep,  who  madest  the  depth  of  the  sea 
a  way,  that  the  delivered  might  pass  over i  ?  They  that  hope 
in  the  Lord  shall  renew  their  strength,  they  shall  take  icings  as 
eagles,  they  shall  run  and  not  be  weary,  they  shall  walk  and 
not  faint.  Whither  shall  they  run  ?  To  thy  holy  habitation  5, 
which  thy  hands,  0  Lord,  have  established 6,  taken  up  on  thine 
outspread  wings 7,  that  they  may  be  carried  in  thy  strength  8. 

"  When  he  had  said  this,  the  holy  Bishop  groaned  within 
himself;  and  his  eyes  filling  with  tears,  and  despising  his 
earthly  habitation,  he  exclaimed :  '  For  what  have  I  in 
heaven  ?  and  besides  thee  what  do  I  desire  upon  earth 9  ?  and 
again,  But  it  is  good  for  me  to  adhere  to  my  God,  to  put  my 
hope  in  the  Lord  God:  that  I  may  declare  all  thy  praises,  in  the 
gates  of  the  daughter  of  Sion  l.  Dearly  beloved,  he  resumed, 
we  are  now  the  sons  of  God ;  and  it  hath  not  yet  appeared  what 
we  shall  be.  We  know,  that,  when  he  shall  appear,  we  shall 
be  like  to  him :  because  we  shall  see  him  as  he  is 2.  We  shall 
see  Him.  Whom  ?  That  divine  Brightness,  or  that  true 
Sun  of  which  it  is  written,  Unto  you  that  fear  my  name  the 
Sun  of  justice  shall  arise 3,  and  we  shall  shine  as  the  sun  in  his 


6  Ps.  lxxvii.  25.  7  John  vi.  51.  8  Ibid.  iii.  31.  9  Phil.  ii.  7. 

1  Isaiah  xlv.  8.  *  Ibid.  3  Ex.  xv.  11.  4  Isa.  Ii.  9. 

5  Ex.  xv.  13.  6  lb.  xv.  17.  7  lb.  xix.  4.  8  lb.  xv.  13. 

9  Ps.  lxxii.  25.  '  Ibid.  28.  2  1  .John  iii.  2.  3  Mai.  iv.  2. 


OF    MEXTZ.  487 

kingdom* — his,  of  whom  all  'paternity  in  heaven  and  earth  is 
named  \  this  Sun  having  risen  upon  all  who  have  increased 
even  to  perfect  day 6  from  the  beginning  of  the  world.  Our 
Fathers,  who  were  worthy  to  be  called  Stars,  have  given  light ; 
they  were  called  and  they  said,  Here  we  are:  and  icith  cheer- 
fulness they  have  shined  forth  to  him  that  made  them7.  None  is 
found  who  in  anything  excelled  Him  who  for  our  sake  was 
made  man,  so  as  among  the  glorious  to  excel  Him  in  glory,  or 
among  the  lowly  in  humiliation. 

"  Of  Abel  indeed  it  is  written  that  because  of  his  innocence 
after  he  had  been  slain  his  blood  cried  from  the  earth  to  heaven 8. 
A  wonderful  thing,  that  the  silent  blood  of  one  thus  silent 
should  cry  out ;  but  what  saith  the  apostle  of  Jesus  l  You 
are  come  to  Jesus  the  Mediator  of  the  Neic  Testament,  and  to  the 
sprinkling  of  blood  xchich  speaketh  better  than  that  of  Abel9. 

"  Noe  was  a  just  and  perfect  man  in  his  generations,  he 
icalked  with  God1 ;  to  whom  God  after  the  deluge  was  abated,1'' 
&c. 

The  preacher  then  went  on  with  the  history  of 
Abraham,  Isaac,  Jacob,  Joseph,  Moses,  Aaron,  Samuel, 
Solomon,  Elijah,  and  Elisha ;  and  having  said  some- 
thins:  of  each  of  these,  in  a  stvle  which  mav  be  ima- 
gined  from  the  foregoing  extracts,  he  asked — "  But 
why  should  I  enlarge?  Those  clouds  are  great,  but 
from  the  Brightness  that  was  before  Him  they  have 
passed  away ;"  and  thus  proceeded  : — 

"  There  is  also  another  way  of  explaining  this  saying.  You 
know  the  sun,  you  know  its  rays,  you  know  the  clouds.  The 
clouds  which  are  at  a  distance,  opposite  to  the  sun's  rays, 
shine  as  long  as  they  are  thus  before  the  sun,  and  as  they 
approach  nearer,  so  much  the  more  brightly  do  they  shine ; 
but  if  the  sun  and  the  clouds  come  to  be  in  the  very  same 
place,  so  that  where  the  sun  is  above,  there  the  clouds  are 
below,  they  are  neither  called  clouds,  nor  are  they  so  in  fact, 
but  all  the  brightness  is  ascribed  to  the  sun.     What  shall 


4  Matt.  xiii.  43.  phes.  iii.  15.       *  Prov.  iv.  IS.       "  Baruch  iii.  34. 

8  Gen.  iv.  10.  »  Heb.  xii.  22.  24.  '  Gen.  vi.  9- 


488  BARDO,    ARCHBISHOP 

we  call  this,  my  brethren,  but  in  some  sort  a  type  of  the 
kingdom  of  heaven?  What  do  the  clouds  (so  called  from 
nubilo,  i.  e.  from  obscurity)  represent,  but  the  human  race, 
beclouded  with  the  night  of  sin?  What  does  the  splendour 
of  the  sun  represent,  but  the  light  of  the  divine  Brightness  ? 
What  the  rays,  but  the  illuminating  works  of  Christ  ?  The 
clouds  then,  in  their  own  nature  obscure,  shine  when  breathed 
on  by  the  rays  of  the  sun,  because  human  littleness  shines 
when  illuminated  by  the  works  of  Christ.  The  nearer  it 
approaches  to  the  true  Sun,  so  much  the  brighter  will  it  be ; 
and  powers  which  by  its  own  nature  it  had  not,  it  receives 
by  the  illumination  of  Christ  the  true  Sun ;  but  if  it  shall 
attain  to  that  same  point  of  divine  operation,  which  is  per- 
fectly to  give  up  the  world  and  with  sedulous  contemplation 
to  look  only  to  the  divine  will,  and,  with  the  Apostle,  to  say, 
But  our  conversation  is  in  heaven 2 ;  then  it  partakes  in  the 
name  of  Deity,  so  that  it  ought  to  be  called,  not  man,  but 
even  God.  Whence  our  Lord,  in  the  gospel,  when  He  had 
prayed  for  his  disciples,  said,  Not  for  them  only  do  I  pray,  but 
for  them  also  who  through  their  word  shall  believe  in  me ;  that 
they  all  may  be  one,  as  thou,  Father,  in  me,  and  I  in  thee :  that 
they  also  may  be  one  in  us3.  Not  only  that  they  may  be  called 
one  in  us,  which  is  great,  but  that  they  may  be  one  in  us, 
which  is  greatest.  That  they  may  be,  he  says,  one  in  us,  that 
is,  that  these  clouds  following  me,  the  sun,  may,  in  my  bright- 
ness, lose  the  nature  of  clouds,  and  be  sun/1 

These  extracts  may  give  the  reader  some  idea  of  the 
sermon,  and  whatever  a  severe  criticism  might  find  to 
say  respecting  the  taste  or  the  truth  of  some  of  the 
applications,  I  feel  that  I  may  confidently  ask,  whether 
it  does  not  imply  a  greater  familiarity  with  the  Scrip- 
tures in  both  the  preacher  and  the  hearers,  than  most 
people  would  give  them  credit  for?  When  it  is  con- 
sidered how  small  a  part  I  have  given,  and  that  the 
whole  is  characterized  by  the  same  biblical  phrase- 
ology, it  really  does  appear  to  me  surprising  how  any 


c  Phil.  lii.  20.  3  John  xvii.  20. 


OF    MENTZ.  489 

man  could,  on  such  notice,  put  together  such  a  string 
of  texts,  at  a  period  when  concordances,  common- 
place books,  and  other  '  pulpit  assistants '  had  not  been 
invented.  Yet  where  is  there  ground  for  any  suspicion 
of  fraud  ?  I  am  almost  ashamed  to  say  such  a  thing  of 
Mabillon,  who  has  printed  the  Sermon4;  but  still,  as 
many  good  protestants  know  nothing  of  him,  or  only 
know  that  he  was  a  papist,  I  must  ask  what  he  could 
get  by  misrepresenting  the  matter,  and  printing  a  long 
sermon  by  a  canonized  saint  of  the  eleventh  century, 
based  on  the  Scriptures  only,  and  containing  nothing  in 
favour  of  any  one  of  those  things  which  protestants 
justly  consider  as  the  corruptions  of  popery  ?  Still  less 
can  we  imagine  fraud  on  the  part  of  a  contemporary 
biographer ;  or,  if  we  can,  it  is  obviously  a  greater 
wonder  that  some  anonymous  monk  should  have  forged 
a  sermon  of  such  a  description,  than  that  it  should 
have  been  actually  made  by  a  prelate  who  had  some 
reputation  for  talent,  piety,  and  learning.  There  is  only 
one  other  supposition,  namely,  that  it  was  forged  by 
some  person  or  persons  unknown  between  the  supposed 
time  of  the  biographer  and  that  at  which  the  manu- 
script containing  it  was  discovered  by  Father  Pape- 
broche  ;  and  of  the  three  suppositions  this  is  perhaps 
the  most  improbable,  not  to  say,  absurd. 

But  what  did  the  audience  think  of  the  sermon  ? 
Was  the  unhappy  preacher  really  casting  pearls  before 
swine,  in  thus  profusely  quoting  a  book  the  very  exifit- 
ence  of  which  was  unknown  to  them?  Surely,  if  they 
knew  nothing  of  the  Bible,  they  must  have  wondered 
what  he  was  talking  about,  and  what  he  was  driving 
at;  and  have  sorely  repented  that  they  had  expressed 
discontent  with  his  former  brief  performance.  Surely 
if  the  emperor  participated  in   "the   blind  hatred   of 

4  Act.  SS.  Ord.  Ben.  Sice.  VI.  P.  ii.  p.  I  l 


490        BARDO,  ARCHBISHOP  OF  MENTZ. 

the  half  barbarian  kings  of  feudal  Europe,'1  and  the 
audience  in  "  the  fanatical  furies  of  their  ignorant  peo- 
ple V'  by  which  we  are  told  that  the  Scriptures  were  so 
cruelly  and  hatefully  oppressed,  such  a  preacher  was 
likely  to  be  torn  in  pieces.  But  nothing  of  the  sort 
appears  to  have  happened.  The  people  certainly  were 
astonished,  and  it  is  said  that  they  unanimously  agreed, 
that  the  preacher  was  a  highly  fit  man  to  be  arch- 
bishop 6.  "  But,"  says  his  biographer,  "  his  detractors 
were  covered  with  shame ; "  and  when  the  company  sat 
down  to  table  the  emperor  said,  with  a  cheerful  coun- 
tenance, " '  I  must  keep  the  feast  of  the  Nativity  to 
day,  for  the  company  of  those  who  were  tearing  us  to 
pieces  is  silent  in  confusion.'  And  then  again,  as  if 
his  great  joy  made  him  talk  nonsense  (ex  nimia  laetitia 
quasi  desipiens),  '  Where,'  said  he,  '  are  our  detractors?' 
and  he  ordered  that  water  should  be  poured  on  the 
bishop's  hands  first  of  all.  But  the  bishop,  who  had 
exhibited  no  sadness  two  days  before,  made  no  shew  of 
joy  on  this  day.  As  he  was  then  silent  respecting 
those  who  blamed  him,  so  he  was  now  of  those  who 
praised  him  ;  which  rendering  him  more  and  more  an 
object  of  admiration,  from  that  time  forth  he  became 
very  great."  He  was  indeed  for  twenty  years  in  that 
high  office  ;  whether  he  went  on  preaching  the  Bible, 
whether  nobody  but  himself  understood  his  sermons, 
and  whether  he  was  the  only  person  who  preached  in 
that  way,  are  matters  worthy  of  enquiry. 


5  See  page  203. 

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


NOTES. 


Note  A.  on  p.  164. 

Father  Ceppi  and  Mabillon. 

When  I  originally  published  these  essays,  and  when  I  re- 
printed them,  I  took  the  "  Historia  Dissidii  Litterarii,"  which 
Father  Porta  annexes  to  his  translation  of  Mabillon's  book, 
for  an  original  work,  and  quoted  it  as  such.  I  might  have 
known  better  if  I  had  carefully  dissected  the  long  title-page  of 
the  Appendix  containing  that  History,  which  was,  I  suppose, 
unobserved  from  its  occurring  near  the  middle  of  the  volume. 
That  would  have  told  me  that  the  account  of  the  controversy 
had  been  "  gallice  concinnata  "  by  Dom  Vincent  Thuillier,  and 
only  translated  into  Latin  by  Father  Porta.  I  have  altered 
the  passage  accordingly. 

I  have  also  corrected  another  mistake.  I  said  that  Father 
Ceppi's  work  was  "  very  near  getting  into  the  Expurgatory 
Index."  I  was  probably  led  to  use  that  phrase  by  the  speci- 
fication which  I  found  of  the  particular  passages  which  were 
objected  to,  and  on  the  removal  of  which  the  publication  was 
'  allowed  ;  the  case  really  being,  (as  I  have  now  stated  it,)  that 
he  had  difficulty  in  getting  permission  to  print  it  at  all.  My 
error  was  pointed  out  by  a  writer  under  the  signature  of  R.  G. 
in  the  Irish  Ecclesiastical  Journal  for  April,  1844. 

Note  B.  on  p.  264. 

WartorCs  History  of  English  Poetry. 

I  have  given  several  specimens  of  the  inaccuracy  of  WartoiTs 
statements,  feeling  it  to  be  the  more  necessary  because  he  is 


492  NOTE    B. 

one  of  the  popular  writers  whose  works  are  read  by  many  who, 
though  well  informed  on  other  subjects,  are  wholly  unacquainted 
with  the  dark  ages,  and  not  really  studying,  or  particularly 
enquiring  about  them.  They  do,  however,  almost  unconsciously, 
or  at  least  unintentionally,  form  an  opinion  respecting  that 
period  from  broad  general  statements,  and  little  detached  facts, 
one  being  very  commonly  given  as  if  it  were  a  sufficient  voucher 
for  the  other,  and  both  coming  in  quite  incidentally  as  matters 
perfectly  notorious — as  things  so  far  from  wanting  proof  them- 
selves, that  they  are  only  brought  in  to  prove  other  things. 

It  is  clear  that  in  this  way  errors  of  a  very  gross  kind  are 
likely  to  become  more  popularly  diffused,  than  if  they  were  found 
in  works  formally  didactic,  and  read  only  by  those  who  would 
bring  some  spirit  of  enquiry,  and  probably  some  previous  know- 
ledge, to  the  study  of  them.  If,  for  instance,  a  writer  on 
Gardening  tells  his  readers  that  they  must  not  expect  China 
roses  to  retain  in  England  all  the  fragrance  which  belongs  to 
them  in  their  native  country,  where  the  thermometer  is  never 
below  200°  Fahrenheit,  and  in  another  part  of  this  work  explains 
that  the  reason  why  China  asters  do  not  grow  spontaneously 
in  this  country  is,  that  we  are  not  subject  to  heavy  rains 
continuing  without  intermission  for  five  or  six  years  at  a  time, 
so  that  our  daisies  never  grow  to  that  enormous  size — if  there 
is  not  a  word  more  about  China  in  his  book,  or  a  thought  or 
idea  about  China  in  his  reader's  mind,  the  probability  is  that  that 
reader  will  carry  away  a  very  strange  notion  of  the  country  ; 
and,  if  the  gardening  book  is  popular,  it  is  probable  that  more 
persons  will  be  misled  than  if  the  same  statements  were  made 
in  a  scientific  work  on  the  climate  and  produce  of  China,  which 
would  scarcely  be  opened  by  any  who  were  not  capable  of 
detecting  such  gross  absurdities.  Gross  they  are,  but  not 
more  so  than  Warton's.  Take,  for  instance,  one  or  two  of  his 
statements; — 

"  Alfred,  while  a  boy,  had  himself  experienced  the  inconveniences 
arising  from  a  want  of  scholars,  and  even  of  common  instructors,  in 
his  dominions  :  for  he  was  twelve  years  of  age,  before  he  could  pro- 
cure in  the  western  kingdom  a  master  properly  qualified  to  teach 
him  the  alphabet.  But,  while  yet  unable  to  read,  he  could  repeat 
from  memory  a  great  variety  of  Saxon  songs."     Diss.  II.  Sig.  d. 

The  authority  for  this  plain  broad  statement  is  given  thus  in 
a  note. 


NOTE    B.  493 

"  Flor.  Vigorn.  sub  ann.  871.  Brompton,  Chron.  in  Alfr.  p.  814. 
And  MS.  Bever,  ut  supr." 

How  many  of  Warton's  readers  have  turned  to  Florence  of 
AVorcester  and  John  Brompton  (to  say  nothing  of  the  MS. 
at  Oxford),  to  see  whether  they  were  fairly  quoted,  and  do 
really  say  what  Warton  professes  to  state  on  their  authority  \ 
Whoever  does  so  will  surely  be  astonished  to  find  them  ex- 
pressly contradicting  what  they  are  said  to  affirm,  and  will 
wonder  how  any  man  could  so  misrepresent  their  statement. 
Florence  of  Worcester !  says,  that  through  the  neglect  of  his 
parents,  and  those  who  had  the  care  of  him  (he  does  not  say 
for  any  want  of  teachers),  Alfred  remained  unlettered  till  his 
twelfth  year.  He  then  tells  the  well-known  story  of  his 
mother's  promising  to  give  a  book  to  that  one  of  her  children 
who  should  first  be  able  to  read  it,  and  of  Alfred's  gaining  the 
prize.  We  are  not  told  how  he  learned  to  read  that  book,  or 
the  other  which  from  that  time  he  used  to  carry  about  in  his 
bosom ;  but  we  are  told  that  when  he  wished  to  proceed  farther 
in  learning  (liberalem  scilicet  artem),  he  could  not  have  his 
desire  because  there  were  no  "  grammatici^  at  that  time  in  the 
kingdom  of  the  West  Saxons.     How  is  it  possible  to  account 


1  Florence  of  Worcester  says  ; — "  Sed  (proh  dolor)  suorum  parentum  et  nutri- 
torum  incuria  usque  ad  12.  setatis  annum  illiteratus  permansit.  Saxonica  tamen 
poemata  die  noctuque  solers  auditor,  relatu  aliorum  srepissime  audiens,  docibilis 
memoriter  retinebat."  He  then  relates  the  story  of  his  mother's  shewing  to  him 
and  his  brothers  a  book,  and  promising  to  give  it  to  that  one  which  should  first 
be  able  to  read  it,  and  tells  us  that  Alfred  obtained  it,  and  afterwards  always 
carried  a  book  in  his  bosom,  &c,  and  then  he  adds  "  sed  (proh  dolor)  quod 
maxime  desiderabat,  liberalem  scilicet  artem,  desiderio  suo  non  suppetebat 
eo  quod  illo  tempore  grammatici  in  toto  regno  occidentalium  Saxonum  non 
erant." 

John  Brompton 's  account  is  much  the  same.  His  words  are  "  Cum  autem 
plus  caeteris  fratribus  ab  utroque  parente  dilectus,  usque  ad  xij.  aetatis  annum 
in  paterna  curia  illiteratus  mansisset,  Saxonica  tamen  poemata  docilis  puer 
memoriter  tenuit,  in  arte  venatoria  summus,  psalmos  et  orationes  in  nnnm 
libellum  compegit,  quem  secum  jugiter  circumduxit,  grammaticam  tamen  minus 
perfecte  attigit,  eo  quod  tunc  temporis  in  toto  occidentali  regno  nullus  gram- 
maticae  doctor  extitit,  quamobrem  ad  consilium  beati  Neoti  abbatis,  quem 
crebro  visitaverat,  scolas  publicas  variarum  artium  apud  Oxoniam  primus  in- 
stituit,"  &c. — Apud  X.  Sorip.  col.  814. 

The  reference  "MS.  Bever,  ut  supr."  relates  to  a  fuller  reference,  "  MS. 
Bever.  MSS.  Coll.  Trim  Oxon.  Codd.  xlvii.  f.  82."  A  friend  has  been  so  kind 
as  to  look  at  the  MS.  and  send  me  an  extract,  which  is  almost  in  the  very  words 
of  John  Brompton. 


494  NOTE    B. 

for  so  gross  a  misrepresentation  ?  It  may  be  said  that  the 
statement,  that  there  were  not  teachers  of  the  liberal  arts 
implies  a  low  state  of  learning  among  the  West  Saxons  at 
that  period ;  but  why  is  that  fact  to  be  exaggerated  \  Are 
we,  when  we  want  to  make  a  fine  story  about  the  wealth  of 
England  in  these  days,  to  say  that  at  the  accession  of  George 
the  Third  the  people  of  England  had  not  a  morsel  of  bread  to 
eat  ?  Is  it  any  excuse  that  when  we  are  charged  with  lying, 
and  pushed  hard,  we  are  able  to  say,  "  Well,  but  really  now 
you  must  yourself  acknowledge  that  game  was  hardly  to  be 
procured  for  love  or  money ?  That  may  be  true  and  singular, 
but  the  marvel  of  a  nation  subsisting  without  bread,  and  all 
the  marvellous  deductions  from  that  marvellous  fact,  are  clean 
gone,  and  our  confidence  in  the  historian  must  surely  go  with 
them. 

But  let  us  take  another  matter  of  fact ;  at  least  what  is  set 
forth  as  one  by  Warton  in  the  same  simple,  concise,  unqualified 
manner.  It  is  just  one  of  the  things  which  speak  volumes  to 
the  meanest  capacities.  The  reader  sees  at  once  in  what  a 
pretty  state  things  must  have  been  ; — 

"  About  the  year  1120,  one  master  Hugh,  being  appointed  by  the 
convent  of  Saint  Edmondsbury  in  Suffolk,  to  write  and  illuminate  a 
grand  copy  of  the  Bible  for  their  library,  could  procure  no  'parch- 
ment for  this  purpose  in  England."     Diss.  II.  Sig.  g. 

The  authority  for  this  is  contained  in  a  note  at  the  foot  of 
the  page,  which  is  as  follows  : — 

"  Monast.  Angl.  i.  p.  200.  In  the  great  revenue  roll  of  one 
year  of  John  Gerveys,  Bishop  of  Winchester,  I  find  expended  '  In 
parcheamento  empto  ad  rotulos,  vs.'  This  was  a  considerable  sum 
for  such  a  commodity  in  the  year  1266.  But  as  the  quantity  or  num- 
ber of  the  rolls  is  not  specified,  no  precise  conclusion  can  be  drawn. 
Comp.  MS.  Membran.  in  Archiv.  Wulves.  Winton.  Compare 
Anderson  Comm.  i.  153.  sub  ann.  1313." 

It  is  true  enough  that  "  no  precise  conclusion1"'  can  be  drawn 
from  such  premises.  What  indeed  but  confusion  of  ideas  can 
be  drawn  from  attaching  to  a  statement  so  plain  and  un- 
equivocal, other  matter  so  vague  and  so  irrelevant  ?  Here  is 
in  the  text  a  plain  fact  stated, — that  in  1120  Master  Hugh 
could  procure  no  parchment  in  England  to  write  a  Bible  on ; 
and  what  is  the  use,  or  the  sense,  of  telling  us  in  a  note  that 


NOTE    B.  495 

one  hundred  and  forty-six  years  afterwards  the  Bishop  of  Win- 
chester paid  five  shillings  for  an  unknown  quantity  of  parch- 
ment, which,  for  anything  that  appears,  he  did  not  get  "  in 
England"  any  more  than  Master  Hugh? 

This  may  probably  seem  to  the  reader  like  quibbling,  and  he 
may  be  ready  to  say,  u  Oh,  of  course,  if  Master  Hugh  could 
not  get  parchment  in  England,  he  could  not  get  it  at  all ; 
indeed  it  is  not  likely  that  the  stupid  monk  knew  that  there 
was  any  place  in  the  world  except  England — '  the  monks  of 
Ferrieres,  in  the  diocese  of  Sens,  did  not  know  that  there  was 
such  a  city  as  Tournay  in  Flanders' — and  Master  Hugh,  of 
Bury  St.  Edmond's,  was  not  likely  to  be  better  informed ;  and 
of  course  the  romantic  idea  of  writing  a  Bible  was  abandoned.11 

Now  it  is  just  in  this  wray  that  falsehood  is  engendered.  The 
story  as  Warton  tells  it  is  not  only  a  foolish,  but  a  false  one. 
The  gist  of  it  is  to  shew  the  barbarous  destitution  of  the 
period ;  and  this  is  very  much  assisted  by  turning  this  Suffolk 
monk's  own  neighbourhood  (which,  one  can  hardly  doubt,  was 
all  that  was  meant  by  "  in  partibus  nostris11)  into  all  England, 
and  cutting  the  story  short  without  telling  us  (as  Warton^ 
authority  does)  that  what  Master  Hugh  could  not  get  in  his 
own  neighbourhood,  he  did  get  from  Scotland.  There  was 
parchment  there  it  seems,  and  the  English  monk  knew  it,  and 
knew  how  to  get  it,  and  did  get  it,  and  the  great  Bible  was 
written  ;  and  if  we  are  to  wonder  and  be  confounded  at  the 
thought  that  there  was  no  parchment  in  England,  let  us  equally 
wonder  and  be  amazed  that  there  was  parchment  in  Scotland, 
and  that  there  was  this  traffic  between  the  places — but  this  part 
of  the  business  is  not  stated. 

Yet  that  even  this  is  not  the  whole  story,  will,  I  think,  be 
apparent  to  any  one  who  fairly  considers  Warton's  authority. 
It  is  probably  one  of  those  little  facts  (like  Haimon's  Homilies) 
which  have  come  down  to  us  so  briefly  and  imperfectly  told, 
that  without  some  explanation  we  cannot  fully  understand 
them  2.  It  seems  that  the  Sacrist  thought  fit  to  make  a  pre- 
sent of  a  great  Bible  to  be  written  for  the  use  of  the  monas- 


2  I  do  not  know  whether  anything  is  to  be  found  respecting  this  occurrence, 
except  in  Dugdale's  Monasticon,  to  which  Warton  refers.  At  page  300  (not  200) 
of  the  first  volume,  we  have  the  following  brief  statement :  — 

"  Iste  Harveus,  frater  Taleboti  Prioris  omnes  expensas  invenit  fratri  mo 
Friori  in  scribendo  mngnam  bibliothecam,  et  maim  magistri   Hngonis  incom- 


490  NOTE    B. 

tery,  and  incomparably  illuminated  by  Master  Hugh,  and  that 
he  wanted  vellum,  and  not  what  we  now  call  parchment 3. 
That  the  word  "  parchamentum,'>  might  be  used  with  more 
laxity  to  describe  the  material  by  the  writer  who  relates  the 
story  of  Master  Hugh,  in  order  to  avoid  repetition,  is  very 
possible ;  but  he  says  expressly,  that  what  was  not  to  be  found 
a  in  partibus  nostris"  was  not  parchment  but  vellum,  "  pelles 
vitulinas  ; "  and  it  is  reasonable  to  suppose  that  it  was  some- 
thing out  of  the  common  way  that  was  wanted  for  the  incom- 
parable artist  on  so  important  an  occasion. 

Let  us  however  look  at  another  of  Warton's  stories  ;  — 

"  Towards  the  close  of  the  seventh  century,  even  in  the  Papal 
library  at  Rome,  the  number  of  books  was  so  inconsiderable,  that 
pope  St.  Martin  requested  Sanctamand  Bishop  of  Maestricht,  if 
possible,  to  supply  this  defect  from  the  remotest  parts  of  Ger- 
many."    Diss.  II.  Sig.  a.  3. 

The  authority  given  for  this  is  ;  — 

"  Concil.  Tom.  xv.  p.  285.  edit.  Paris,  1641." 

How  Warton  could  write  this,  or  how  any  one  possessed  by 
the  popular  notion  of  the  dark  ages  could  read  it,  without 
being  staggered,  I  am  at  a  loss  to  conceive.  Surely  their 
previous  idea  would  be  that  "  towards  the  close  of  the  seventh 
century  "  if  there  were  books  any  where,  it  was  at  Rome,  and 
in  the  Pope's  Library,  if  he  had  one.  They  might  not,  per- 
haps, have  been  surprised  to  learn  that  he  had  none  ;  but  even 
then  to  find  him,  instead  of  rejoicing  in  his  darkness,  anxious 
to  remedy  such  a  state  of  things  amidst  all  the  trials  and 
troubles  of  his  sad  and  turbulent  pontificate — to  hear  him 
crying  and  craving  "  Books,  books,  prithee  Sanctamand  send 
us  books,  from  the  remotest  part  of  Germany," — truly  this 
must  be  a  matter  of  great  astonishment.  For,  to  be  sure,  he 
did  not  send  there  only,  or  as  the  place  of  all  others,  but  every 
where,  and  would  have  sent  to  the  back  settlements  of  America 
if  there  had  been  any  ;  but  then  such  an  oecumenical  and  fervent 
search  for  books  carried  on  by  the  Pope  of  Rome,  would 
equally  cross  the  popular  view  of  the  Dark  Ages. 


parabiliter  fecit  depingi.      Qui   cum   non  inveniret  in  partibus  nostris  pelles 
vitulinas,  in  Scotiae  partibus  parchamentum  compararit." 

3  "  Among  traders  the  skins  of  sheep  are  called  parchment,  those  of  calves, 
vellum." — John*  a/. 


NOTE    B.  497 

But  the  follower  of  War  ton  must  take  the  fact  as  he  finds 
it,  logic  and  all.  The  number  of  books  in  the  Pope's  Library, 
in  the  seventh  century,  was  so  inconsiderable,  that  he  requested 
Sanctamand  to  supply  the  defect  "from  the  remotest "  parts 
of  Germany,  "  if  possible" — a  sly  clause  put  in  to  save  his  in 
fallibility  in  case  any  thing  in,  or  beyond,  nature  should  have 
exhausted  that  great  storehouse  of  literature.  If  the  num- 
ber of  his  books  had  not  been  so  inconsiderable,  he  might, 
perhaps,  have  contented  himself  with  sending  to  the  less 
remote  parts  of  Germany  ;  for  the  bishop  of  Maestricht,  who 
lived  in  the  very  least  remote  parts  of  Germany,  would  have  to 
send  a  good  way  in  order  to  execute  his  Holiness's  com- 
mission. One  hardly  knows  whether  to  say  that  the  story 
would  have  been  rendered  more  or  less  credible,  if  Warton 
had  added  that  the  Pope  knew  that  Sanctamand  was  in  the 
habit  of  attending  the  Frankfort  and  Leipsic  fairs,  and  could 
therefore  get  him  the  newest  books  and  best  editions  at  a 
liberal  discount  for  ready  money,  and  send  them  without  much 
trouble  by  the  Parcels  Delivery  Company. 

But  the  oddest  part  of  some  of  these  stories  is  the  way  in 
which  they  vanish,  when  once  they  are  fairly  looked  in  the  face. 
One  may  sometimes  meet  with  an  exaggeration,  and  perceive 
clearly  the  temptation  that  the  writer  was  under  to  embellish, 
or  one  may  detect  a  mistake,  and  see  how  a  man  might  naturally 
fall  into  it ;  but  some  of  these  stories  seem  positively  to  have 
no  ground  or  origin,  and  the  authorities  afford  no  explanation 
of  the  way  by  which  they  came  into  existence.  There  certainly 
is  extant  a  letter — and  I  believe  but  one — frum  Pope  Martin 
to  St.  Amand,  Bishop  of  Maestricht,  and  it  is  given  along 
with  the  rest  of  that  pope's  letters  in  the  Councils ;  and  I  dare 
say  it  would  have  been  given  in  the  edition  of  Paris,  1641,  if 
there  had  been  such  an  edition,  for  it  is  given  (I  learn  by  the 
kindness  of  a  friend)  in  that  of  1644,  which  is  no  doubt  the 
edition  meant  by  Warton.  But  really  when  I  originally 
referred  to  the  letter  in  my  own  copy  of  Labbe  and  Cossart,  I 
could  only  imagine  that  in  some  other  edition  to  which  I  had 
not  then  access,  there  must  be  something  quite  different  from 
what  I  found,  and  I  said  nothing  about  the  matter.  Having, 
however,  now  learned  that  in  the  edition  of  1644,  Vol.  XV.  p. 
285,  (agreeing  with  Warton's  reference,)  the  letter  stands  just 
as  it  does  in  my  own  copy,  1  can  only  say  that  1  am  at  a  loss 

K  k 


498  NOTE    B. 

to  account  for  so  extraordinary  a  misstatement.  In  that  letter 
the  Pope  is  so  far  from  begging  books  from  the  remotest  part 
of  Germany,  or  anywhere  else,  that  he  makes  an  apology, 
plainly  indicating  that  St.  Amand  had  been  begging  books 
from  him.  St.  Amand  had  sent  a  letter  to  the  Pope,  the 
principal  object  of  which  was  to  obtain  permission  to  resign  his 
see.  The  Pope  sent  him  a  long  reply,  in  which  he  encouraged 
him  to  persevere,  and  took  the  opportunity  of  writing  to  him 
on  one  or  two  other  points  ;  but  I  do  not  see  one  word  in  the 
letter  which  can  possibly  have  any  connexion  with  the  matter 
now  before  us  except  the  following  : — 

"Reliquias  vero  sanctorum,  de  quibus  praesentium  lator  nos 
admonuit,  dari  praecepimus.  Nam  codices  jam  exinaniti  sunt  a  nostra 
bibliotheca,  et  undeei  dare  nullatenus  habuimus  ;  transcribere  autem 
non  potuit,  quoniam  festinanter  de  hac  civitate  regredi  properavit." 
Lab.  Cone.  VI.  385. 

Now  how  was  it  possible  for  any  man  to  make  up  such  a 
story  from  these  materials  ?  One  could  more  easily  have  ima- 
gined a  hasty  writer  to  have  taken  up  the  notion  that  the  Pope 
actually  had  no  books,  though  the  difference  between  "  having 
nothing,"  and  "  having  nothing  to  give,"  is  very  plain  in  itself, 
and  very  well  understood  by  suitors  ;  and  it  is  rendered  perfectly 
obvious  here  by  the  statement  that  the  messenger  was  only 
hindered  from  transcribing  by  his  haste  to  return.  There 
were  books  to  copy,  it  seems,  if  there  were  none  to  give 4. 

It  is  only  when  we  keep  in  mind  such  specimens  of  qualifica- 
tion as  these,  that  we  are  not  surprised,  and  scarcely  offended,  to 
find  the  Oxford  Professor  talking  of  "  Voltaire,  a  writer  of  much 
deeper  research  than  is  imagined,  and  the  first  who  has  dis- 
played the  literature  and  customs  of  the  dark  ages  with  any 
degree  of  penetration  and  comprehension. "  Diss.  I.  Sig.  c.  b. 


*  Since  this  was  written  I  have  looked  into  Fleury,  who  gives  the  meaning 
of  the  passage  thus,  with  the  same  remark  on  it : — "  Nous  avons  fait  donner  au 
porteur  les  reliques  qu'il  a  demandees.  Car  pour  les  livres,  nous  n'avons  pu 
lui  donner,  parce  que  notre  bibliotheque  est  vuidc  :  et  il  etoit  si  presse*  de  s'en 
retourner,  qu'il  n'a  pu  en  transcrire."  He  adds,  "  Ces  dernieres  paroles  font 
voir,  qu'il  restoit  des  livres  dans  le  bibliotheque  du  pape,  mais  qu'il  n'y  avoit 
pas  assez  d'exemplaires  du  memo  auteur,  pour  en  donner  ou  en  preter  aux 
Grangers."— Hkt.  Eccles.  Lit.  XXXV1I1.  §  hi.  Tom.  VIII.  p.  488. 


NOTE    c.  499 

Note.  0.  on  p.  27S.  n. 

Destruction  of  MSS. 

It  seems  worth  while  to  add  two  instances,  one  English 
and  the  other  French,  of  the  destruction  of  MSS.  by  those 
who  were  their  guardians,  and  who  seem  to  have  been  influenced 
by  religious  (if  one  ought  not  rather  to  say,  party)  feeling.  It 
is  the  more  necessary,  because  it  is  hard  to  conceive  of  such 
things ;  and  the  circumstances  of  the  latter  case  in  particular 
lead  one  to  apprehend  that  the  matter  was  not  the  act  of  a 
stupid  fanatical  individual,  but  a  practice  encouraged  by  those 
who  had  it  in  their  power  to  do,  and  certainly  did,  much  mis- 
chief ;  and  that  not  only  openly,  but  by  private  means,  less 
easily  detected. 

Henry  Wharton,  in  the  preface  to  his  Anglia  Sacra,  after 
stating  the  impossibility  of  rivalling  works  of  a  similar  nature 
which  had  been  published  respecting  France  and  Italy,  owing 
to  the  destruction  of  manuscripts  at  the  suppression  of  monas- 
teries, &c,  says,  that  he  had  met  with  a  case  in  which  a  bishop, 
avowedly  with  the  design  of  getting  rid  of  popery,  had  burned 
all  the  Registers  and  documents  belonging  to  his  see s.  He 
does  not  name  him  ;  and,  without  enquiring  who  he  was,  we 
will  charitably  hope  that  he  acted  in  stupid  sincerity,  and  was 
the  only  English  prelate  that  ever  did  such  a  thing,  or  anything 
like  it. 

But  there  is  a  French  story,  more  surprising  and  pregnant, 
and  forming  a  valuable  commentary  on  many  sad  passages  in 
Martene's  literary  tour,  which  might  otherwise  be  thought  to 
bear  marks  of  prejudice  against  the  protestant  party.  But  this 
fact,  coming  as  it  does  from  themselves,  is  beyond  suspicion  ; 
and  it  is  briefly  as  follows : — At  the  "  Quatrieme  Synode 
National  des  Eglises  Reformees  de  France,  tenu  a  Lion  le  10 
Aout,  1.563,  LTAn  III.  du  Regne  de  Charles  IX.,  Roi  de 
France.  Monsieur  Pierre  Viret,  alors  Ministre  de  TEglise  de 
Lion,  elii  pour   Moderateur  et  pour  Secretaire,"   among  the 


5  "  Comperi  enim  Episcopum  quendam  ante  centum  et  quod  excurrit  annos, 
avitie   superstitionis    dolcndje    praetextu,  omnia    Ecclesi*   suae  monument:. 
Registra  igni  tradidisse."'    VvL  I.  p.  xi. 

K  k   '2 


500  NOTE    D. 

"  Faits  particuliers M   which  were  discussed  and  decided,   No. 
XLVIT.  is  thus  stated  ; — 

"  Un  Abbe  parvenu  a  la  connoissance  de  l'Evangile,  aiant  abatu  les 
I  doles,  brule  ses  Titres,  pourveu  aux  besoins  de  ses  moines,  sans 
qui'l  ait  permis  depuis  six  ans  qu'il  se  soit  chante  Messe  dans  son 
Abbaye,  ne  fait  aucun  exercice  du  service  de  l'Eglise  Romaine, 
mais  au  contraire  s'est  toujours  rnontre  fidele,  et  a  porte  les  armes 
pour  maintenir  l'Evangile.  On  demande  s'il  doit  etre  recu  a  la 
Cene  ?    Reponse.   Oiii."     Aymon,  Syn.  Nat.  Tom.  I.  p.  45. 

We  cannot  here  indulge  any  such  charitable  hope  as  that 
which  I  suggested  in  the  preceding  case  ;  for  the  point  which 
seizes  our  attention  is  not  the  act  of  the  individual,  but  the 
approbation  of  the  National  Synod.  The  matter  is  quaintly 
entered  in  the  Index,  and  in  plainer  terms  than  those  in  which 
it  was  submitted  to  the  assembled  divines; — "  Abbe  recti  a  la 
Cene  pour  avoir  brule  ses  Titres,  abatu  les  Images  de  TEglise 
de  son  Convent,  et  porte  les  Armes  pour  maintenir  les  Predi- 
cateurs  Reformes."     Pag.  45. 


Note  D.  on  p.  289.  n. 

Difficulty  of  access  to  MSS. 

I  lately  found  among  my  papers  a  fragment  which  appears 
to  have  been  cut  off  from  the  Note  at  p.  289.  The  Note  was 
certainly  long  enough  without  it ;  but  as  the  fragment  contains 
some  further  illustrations  of  the  subject,  and  of  rather  a  different 
kind,  I  here  subjoin  it ;  — 

"  Indeed  they  had  sometimes  a  little  difficulty  in  dealing 
with  Abbesses,  whose  suspicions,  considering  their  helpless  con- 
dition, may  be  forgiven,  though  they  sometimes  produced 
amusing  results.  The  Abbess  of  S.  Menoust  (a  niece  of  the 
Pere  de  la  Chaise)  could  do  nothing  without  consulting  her 
superior,  the  Cardinal  de  Bouillon,  and  therefore  did  nothing  at 
all 6."  When  Martene  paid  his  compliments  to  the  superior  of 
the  Carmelites  at  Nevers,  and  enquired  their  founder's  name 
and  the  date  of  their  foundation,   "  cette  proposition  dernonta 


1.  Voy.  Lit.  4.">. 


NOTE    E. 


501 


tellement  cette  bonne  fille,  qu  elle  b'ecria  :  '  He  pourquoy  me 
deniandez-vous  cela,  mon  pere  ?  n'est-ce  pas  pour  mettre  encore 
de  nouveaux  impots  sur  notre  maison  \  nous  en  avons  deja 
tant  paye  que  nous  avons  ete  obligees  pour  y  satisfaire  d'em- 
prunter  une  somme  considerable,  dont  nous  payons  la  rente 7  ;" 
and  it  was  not  until  after  consultation  with  her  "  directeur," 
and  his  assurance  that  it  would  be  an  honour  for  her  convent 
to  be  noticed  in  the  learned  work  which  was  projected,  that  she 
produced  the  deed  of  foundation.  The  old  Cistercian  Abbess 
of  Ostine  took  fright,  and  could  scarcely  be  beaten  out  of  her 
notion  that  these  Benedictine  monks  were  going  to  claim  a 
visitatorial  power,  which  she  declared  that  none  but  those  of  her 
own  order  should  ever  exercise  in  her  house  8 ;  and  two  out  of 
three  Abbesses  at  Metz  refused  positively.  The  other  "  commu- 
niqua  tout  ce  qui  etoit  dans  ses  archives,  parce  quelle  aime 
sa  maison,  et  qu'elle  est  bien-aise  qu'on  scache  ce  qu'elle  a 
toujours  ete."  A  pretty  strong  hit  at  the  other  two  ;  but  in 
fact  he  goes  on  to  tell  the  world  that  thev  wanted  to  secularize 
into  canonesses,  and  to  conceal  that  they  were  properly  and 
originally  nuns.  "  Mais  elles  ont  beau  faire,"  says  the  malicious 
monk,  "  toute  la  posterite  scaura  que  sainte  Waldrade,  pre- 
miere Abbesse  de  S.  Pierre,  etoit  religieuse  ;"  and  he  goes  on 
to  show  that  he  could  prove  all  that  they  wished  to  conceal, 
without  being  indebted  to  their  manuscripts 9. 


Note  E.  on  p.  382. 
Dovetailing  of  Letters. 

When  I  said  that  old  letters,  if  brought  out  from  various 
sources,  would  "  dove- tail"  greatly  to  the  illustration  of  each 
other  and  of  history,  I  might  (if  I  had  then  known  it)  have 
quoted  a  singular  instance  which  had  recently  occurred. 

In  the  u  State  Papers  published  under  the  authority  of  his 
Majesty's  Commission,  Volume  I.,  King  Henry  the  Eighth, 
Parts  I.  and  II.  1830,"  there  are  (Part  II.  p.  883)  two  letters 
from  Gardiner,  Bishop  of  Winchester ;    one  to  the  king,  and 


,7  Ibid.  :>o.  ■  Ibid.  P.  ii.  in;.  '  Ibid.  115. 


T)02  NOTE    F. 

the  other  to  Sir  William  Paget,  requesting  him  to  deliver  it 
to  his  Majesty.  Both  letters  are  dated  December  2.  A  note 
on  the  letter  to  the  king  says,  "  This  letter  is  holograph,  and  a 
contemporary  indorsement  fixes  its  date  to  1546."  Another 
note  says,  "  The  tenth  instrument  signed  by  stamp  in  Decem- 
ber, 1546,  is  a  letter  to  the  Bishop  of  Winchester  in  answer 
to  his  letters  to  the  king,  concerning  an  exchange  of  land 
desired  by  the  king."  The  reader  will  remember  that  Henry 
VIII.  died  on  January  28,  1547,  and  that  during  some  time 
previous,  the  royal  name  was  affixed  to  instruments  by  a  stamp, 
because,  as  was  said,  the  king  could  not  write  his  name.  But 
where  is  this  No.  10?  where  is  the  stamped  instrument  con- 
taining the  king's  answer  to  Gardiner  ?  Why  it  had  been 
printed  and  published  hundreds  of  years  before  these  State 
Papers  were  issued.  It  is  not  wonderful  that  it  should  have 
been  unobserved,  not  only  because  it  is  not  a  document  of 
much  interest,  or  very  intelligible,  in  itself,  but  because  it  exists 
only,  so  far  as  I  know,  in  the  first  edition  of  Fox's  Martyrology, 
which  is  a  very  rare  book.  Having  had  a  good  deal  to  do 
with  that  work,  I  have  happened  to  see  it.  It  stands  at  p. 
801,  and  purports  to  have  been  "  Yeuen  vnder  our  signet,  at 
our  maner  of  Otelands,  the  iiii.  of  Deceber  the  xxxviii.  yere  of 
our  reigne."  It  was,  I  believe,  omitted  in  every  subsequent 
edition,  until  it  was  recently  restored  in  the  comic  edition  of 
Messrs.  Seeley,  which  was  not  begun  till  after  the  publication 
of  the  volume  of  State  Papers  alluded  to.  The  letter  and 
answer  therefore  may  now,  after  a  separation  of  nearly  three 
hundred  years,  be  placed  side  by  side ;  and  though,  as  I  have 
said,  the  subject  matter  is  not  very  intelligible  or  of  any  great 
consequence,  yet  I  venture  to  say  that,  from  other  circum- 
stances, which  it  would  be  tedious  here  to  detail,  these  three 
letters  arc  among  the  most  important  documents  which  exist 
with  reference  to  the  History  of  the  Information. 


Note  F.  on  p.  441. 

Commercium  Librorum . 

Any  reader  who  may  wish  to  pursue  this  subject,  which  is 
surely  one  of  the  most  interesting  connected  with  the  history  of 


NOTE    F.  503 

the  dark  ages,  will  find  a  great  deal  of  curious  matter  in  Pez's 
"  Codex  Diplomatico-historico-epistolaris,"  which  forms  the 
sixth  volume  of  his  "  Thesaurus  Anecdotorum  Novissimus." 

I  have  had  occasion  to  speak  of  the  monastery  of  Tegernsee 
at  p.  417.  According  to  Pez,  it  was  under  the  government  of 
the  Abbot  Gozpert  from  a.o.  983 — 1001 ;  and  he  gives  a  good 
many  letters  by  and  to  him  and  his  monks.  The  reader  will 
therefore  bear  in  mind  that  the  writers  of  all  those  which  I 
here  mention  lived  in  the  tenth  century. 

A  letter  from  the  Abbot  Romuald,  Abbot  of  St.  Era- 
meranfs  at  Ratisbon,  requesting  the  loan  of  a  "  Librum  ple- 
nariae  collationis,"  in  order  that  it  might  be  copied.    Col.  121. 

Another  to  "  Domnus  H.,"  to  borrow  the  third  part  of  the 
Tripartite  History  for  the  same  purpose.    Col.  127. 

Froumond  (a  monk  of  Tegernsee,  but  who  seems  to  have 
been  at,  and  quitted,  another  monastery)  to  Gozpert,  begging 
parchment.    Col.  158. 

The  same  to  the  same,  vehemently  protesting  that  he  had 
not  stolen  the  abbot's  book,   "librum  vestrum  M."    Col.  159. 

Reginbald  (probably,  says  Pez,  a  monk  of  St.  Emmeram's,) 
to  Froumund,  (not,  as  Pez  entitles  it,  sending  him  a  Persius, 
but)  returning  him  some  book  which  he  had  borrowed,  and 
asking  for  a  Persius.  Col.  160. 

The  same  to  the  same,  sending  him  the  remainder  of  a  book 
which  he  had  asked  for,  desiring  that  he  would  make  his  copy 
and  return  it  as  soon  as  possible,  because  he  had  yielded  to  his 
importunity  and  sent  it  without  the  knowledge  of  its  owner — 
that  he  could  not  at  that  time  meet  the  wish  of  Froumund  and 
Master  Meginhelme,  because  though  the  book  thus  wanted  was 
in  their  library,  he  doubted  of  its  correctness ;  but  he  would 
see,  and  if  it  appeared  that  it  would  be  of  service  to  them, 
would  endeavour  to  bring  it  when  he  should  come  to  them. 
Col.  162. 

Froumund  to  Reginbald,  to  lend  him  a  Horace  to  copy  a 
morsel  which  their  book  did  not  contain — if  he  had  not  that  at 
hand  to  send  some  other  book  that  would  be  useful  to  them, 
and  to  return  a  book  of  his  which  he  had,  by  the  bearer.  Col. 
L63. 

The  same  to  the  same,  rebuking  him  for  sending  back  his 
book  in  such  a  condition — crumpled,  dirty,  and  without  the 
map  of  the  world  which  had  been  at  the  beginning  :   "  totum 


504  NOTE    G. 

rugosum,  coenosum,  parteque  disruptum  ....  circulus  cuntinens 
scripturam  quatuor  plagarum  mundi."  Col.  164. 

The  same  to  the  same,  begging  him  to  lend  a  Statius,  or,  if 
offended,  to  return  him  his  book.  Col.  1 64. 

The  same  to  P.  (probably  his  Abbot)  relates  to  the  tran- 
scription of  Boethius,  and  about  copies  of  Juvenal  and  Per- 
sius,  Arithmetics  Boethii,  and  the  liber  Invectivarum  Tullii 
Ciceronis  in  Salustium.  Col.  166. 


Note  G.  on  p.  465. 

John  of  Gorze. 

It  may  amuse  the  reader  to  know,  and  it  is  peculiarly  charac- 
teristic of  the  mode  in  which  the  history  of  the  Dark  Ages  has 
been  treated  to  observe,  that  John  of  Gorze  is  coupled  with 
Meinwerc  by  Brucker,  as  a  specimen  of  those  deplorable  block- 
heads who,  "  infantum  more  balbutiebant  summamque  exoscu- 
labantur  ignorantiam."  After  speaking  of  the  numerous  proofs 
of  darkness  collected  by  the  learned,  and  giving  a  general  refer- 
ence to  their  works,  he  says  : — 

"  Nos  speciminis  loco  unum  modo  alterumque  adducimus  exem- 
plum  ;  Ioannem  abbatem  Gorziensem,  (cujus  vitam  scripsit  Ioannes 
abbas  S.  Arnulfi  Metis,  quam  exhibent  Bollandus  et  socii  et  Mabil- 
lonius)  neglecto  non  modo  quadrivio  sed  et  trivio,  '  primas  tantum 
partes  Donati  ex  Bernero  audivisse,  eaque  introductoria  aspersione 
contentum  divinis  se  omnino  transtulisse  scriptis  :'  et  Meinwercum 
episcopum  Paderbornensem  ne  recte  legere  quidem  potuisse,  et  in 
psalterio  legisse  :  '  Benedic  domine  regibus  et  reginis  mulis  et  mula- 
bus  tuis,  pro  famulis  et  famulabus  tuis.'  Unde  vix  credi  potest, 
quod  idem  vitse  Meinwerci  scriptor  refert,  '  studiorum  multiplicia 
sub  eo  floruisse  exercitia,  et  bonae  indolis  juvenes  et  pueros  fuisse 
institutos.'  Neque  mirum  ;  puerum  enim  quinquennem  Eriberti 
Aquitaniae  ducis  filium  adhuc  livaXtyafiri-ov  archiepiscopum  Remen- 
sem  constitutum  fuisse,  narrat,  et  indignatur  Baronius  1." 

1  Hist.  Phil.  Tom.  iii.  p.  634.  Brucker's  explanation  is  worth  notice.  A 
child  of  the  Count  of  Vermandois  (not  the  Duke  of  Aquitaine  of  all  people)  is 
elected  Archbishop  of  Rheims,  that  being  his  father's  way  of  seizing  the  power 
and  property  of  the  see.  The  King  of  France  supports  him.  A  vicious  pope 
is  brought  to  allow  it,  but  has  the  decency  to  insist  on  delegating  the  spiritual 
function  to  the  contiguous  bishop  of  Soissons.  No  wonder  John  did  not  read 
Donatus,  and  Meinwerc  could  not  read  the  Psalter — but  did  Brucker  mean  that 
Baronius  was  more  indignant  than  the  contemporary  historian  '. 


NOTE    H.  505 

But  in  what  different  lights  people  view  the  same  thing.  I 
should  have  thought  that  the  acquirements  which  I  have  men- 
tioned in  the  text  might  have  constituted  John  of  Gorze 
something  like  a  learned  man,  but  his  unfortunate  confession 
about  Donatus  seems  to  have  satisfied  the  Historian  of  Philo- 
sophy that  he  must  have  been  a  blockhead. 


Note  H.  on  p.  469. 

D'Aubigne^s  History  of  the  Reformation. 

The  following  letter  appeared  in  the  Record  Newspaper  for 
December  12,  1844.  It  is  so  curious,  and  so  characteristic  of 
the  school  of  writers  to  which  M.  D'Aubigne  and  his  news- 
paper friends  belong,  that  I  am  desirous  to  preserve  it,  and 
lay  it  before  my  readers,  few  of  whom  are  likely  to  have  seen 
the  unfortunate  publication  in  which  it  appeared1. 

LETTER  TO  AN  ENGLISH  CLERGYMAN,  IN  REPLY  TO  HIS  INQUIRIES  RESPECTING 
SOME  REMARKS  OF  MR.  MAITLAND  IN  HIS  WORK  ON  "  THE  DARK  AGES,"  AGAINST 
d'aUBIGNe'S   "  HISTORY    OF    THE    REFORMATION." 

"  Genera,  Dec.  2,  1844. 

"  Dear  Brother, — Nothing  equals  the  ignorance,  the  levity,  and  the  bad  faith, 
that  the  greater  part  of  the  Popish  writers  on  the  Continent  show  on  the  subject 
of  the  Reformation  and  the  Reformers.  They  repeat  incessantly  the  most 
ridiculous  stories,  the  falsity  of  which  has  been  proved  a  hundred  times.  Will 
your  Crypto-Papists  of  England  enter  the  same  course  ?  I  should  not  be  sur- 
prised. I  have  already  had  many  attacks  against  my  History  of  the  Reformation, 
proceeding  from  the  Tractarian  party,  either  in  Great  Britain  or  America.  I 
have  no  intention  of  replying  to  them,  but  I  will  however  say  some  words  upon 
that  which  you  communicate  in  your  last  letter. 

*  It  appears  that  Mr.  Maitland,  in  his  work  on  the  Dark  Ages,  throws  doubt  on 
my  account  of  the  manner  in  which  Luther  found  the  Bible  in  the  University  of 
Erfurth.  He  seems  to  think  (his  book  has  not  yet  reached  Geneva)  that  the 
Holy  Scriptures  were  too  generally  spread  under  the  Papacy  before  the  Refor- 
mation, fur  Luther  not  to  have  been  already  acquainted  with  them.  The  argu- 
ment which  he  makes  use  of  is  remarkable.  '  Luther,'  savs  he,  '  had  read  the 
writings  of  Occam,  Scot,  Bonaventura,  and  Thomas  Aquinas.  These  Doctors 
knew  the  Bible  ;  Luther  must  then  have  heard  it  spoken  of.'  But  I  have  said 
much  more  myself  ;  1  have  said  that  he  had  read  the  fragments  of  the  Gospels 


1  In  case  such  readers  should  observe  certain  peculiarities  in  the  German  or 
Latin,  it  is  due  to  myself  and  to  the  printer  to  say  that  we  have  endeavoured  to 
give  the  letter  most  exactly.  It  may  be  doubted  whether  the  Record  ever  had 
any  person  connected  with  it  who  was  capable  of  correcting  the  press  in  any 
language  hut  his  own,  if  even  in  that. 


506  NOTE    II. 

and  Epistles  that  the  Church  lias  chosen  for  each  Sunday  of  the  year  (vol.  i.  p. 
156).     This  was  move  than  having  heard  the  Bihle  spoken  of. 

"  What  I  have  said  is,  that  Luther  had  never  until  then  seen  an  entire  copy  of 
the  Holy  Scriptures.  Now,  in  advancing  this  fact,  I  have  cited  my  authority  in 
a  note  (Mathesius).  An  exact  and  conscientious  critic  would  have  had  recourse 
to  this  authority;  he  would  have  examined  it,  and  if  he  had  found  good,  criticised, 
or  he  would  have  opposed  other  authorities.  But  not  a  word  of  all  that.  Mr. 
Maitland  prefers  to  throw  himself  into  suppositions  which  have  no  weight. 
Probably  he  does  not  know  Mathesius.  I  am,  nevertheless,  told  that  Mr. 
Maitland  is  librarian  to  one  of  your  Bishops.  Here  is  a  librarian  who  seems  to 
know  very  little  of  books. 

"  I  will  say,  then,  that  John  Mathesius,  one  of  the  most  respectable  ecclesi- 
astics of  the  first  half  of  the  sixteenth  century,  came  to  Wittemburg  in  1529  ;  he 
was  a  disciple  of  Luther,  lodged  many  years  in  the  house  of  the  Reformer,  and 
ate  every  day  at  his  table,  usus  est  convictu  ipsius  Lutheri,  says  Melchior  Adam, 
in  his  Vitas  Germ.  Theolog.  There  is  no  contemporary  historian  of  the  Refor- 
mation whose  testimony  has  more  authority  where  the  person  of  the  Reformer 
is  concerned.  Now,  here  is  the  literal  translation  of  the  passage  to  which  I 
have  referred  in  my  History  of  the  Reformation.  (He  writes  in  German.) 
Luther  was  often  in  the  library  of  the  University  ;  one  day,  as  he  examined  the 
books  one  after  another,  in  order  to  learn  to  know  the  good,  he  falls  upon  the 
Latin  Bible  which  he  had  never  seen  before,  all  the  time  of  his  life.  (Die  er 
yuvon  die  yeit  seines  lebens  ine  geschen.)  He  remarks,  then,  with  great  astonish- 
ment, that  many  more  texts,  epistles,  and  gospels,  are  to  be  found  there  than  in 
the  ordinary  postils,  and  in  the  texts  they  were  accustomed  to  explain  in  the 
churches  from  the  pulpits.  As  he  was  running  through  the  Old  Testament,  he 
falls  upon  the  history  of  Samuel  and  his  mother  Hannah  ;  he  reads  it  quickly 
with  a  heart  full  of  emotion  and  joy  ;  and  as  all  that  was  new  to  him,  he  began 
to  desire  from  the  depths  of  his  heart  that  our  faithful  God  would  one  day  give 
him  such  a  book  for  his  own.  Oh  !  how  richly  have  this  desire  and  sigh  been 
granted. 

"  Thus  speaks  Mathesius,  in  his  Memoirs  of  the  Beginning  of  the  Life  and  Death 
of  Martin  Luther,  first  discourse,  pp.  3,  4.  The  edition  from  which  I  have 
(paotcd  is  that  of  the  sixteenth  century.     (Of  the  year  15C6.) 

"  Melchior  Adam,  in  his  Lives  of  German  Theologians,  p.  103,  speaks  thus  : — 
"  Lutherus  incidit  in  exemplar  Latinorum  Bibliarum  qace  nunquam  antea  rbierat, 
cj-c."  It  is  useless  to  bring  more  quotations.  I  add  only  that  all  the  historians 
are  unanimous  on  this  fact.  I  do  not  know  that  it  has  ever  been  contested  by 
any  one,  even  by  avowed  Papists. 

"  There  had  been  doubtless  many  editions  of  the  Bible  since  the  invention  of 
printing,  but  we  find  few  or  no  traces  of  them  among  the  people.  The  Holy 
Scriptures  appear  to  have  had  no  influence  upon  the  instruction  either  of  the 
Church  or  of  the  school.  Let  us  leave  what  the  Reformers  may  have  said,  and 
let  us  search  for  what  has  been  written  before  the  Reformation,  not  only  by 
men  of  the  opposition,  such  as  John  Huss  and  Savonarota,  but  by  Doctors  of 
calm  spirit,  and  invested  with  the  highest  ecclesiastical  dignities,  such  as  Mat- 
thew of  Cracow,  Bishop  of  Worms,  in  his  Tractatus  ob  Squaloribus  Romance 
(  kirke,  Pierre  d'Ailly,  Archbishop  of  Cambray,  John  Gerson,  and  the  respectable 
Abbot  of  Spanheim,  John  Tritheim.  Here  are  some  features  of  the  picture 
which  this  last  has  drawn  for  us  of  the  state  of  the  Romish  clergy  before  the 
Reformation  in  his  Institutio  VUcb  Saoerdotalis.  I  will  leave  in  Latin  what  it 
would  not  be  decent  to  translate — 'Ignorant  men,  coarse,  without  merit,  come 
to  the  priesthood.  They  ask  neither  a  holy  life,  nor  literary  culture,  nor  a  pure 
conscience.     Our  priests  entirely  neglect  the  study  of  Holy  Scripture,  but  in 


NOTE    H.  507 

compensation  they  occupy  themselves  in  bringing  dogs  and  birds  }iro  libris  sibi 
liberoM  comparant  pro  studio  eonombinas  amant.  They  sit  with  drunkards  in  the 
public-houses,  and  give  themselves  up  to  play  and  debauchery.  They  do  not 
know  how  to  speak  or  write  in  Latin,  and  can  scarcely  explain  the  Gospels  in 
German.  It  is  not  astonishing  that  simple  priests  should  be  so  ignorant  and  so 
opposed  to  the  study  of  the  Holy  Scriptures,  for  in  that  they  have  the  Prelates 
for  their  example.  It  is  not  the  wisest  that  are  elected,  but  those  who  can  best 
pay  for  their  place.  These  Prelates  have  themselves  few  or  no  Bibles,  and  show 
a  great  hatred  against  instruction.  Here  are  the  blind  guides  who,  instead  of 
guiding  the  people,  lead  them  astray.' 

"  What  a  frightful  picture  !  Here  is  the  state  from  which  the  Reformation 
has  rescued  the  Church.  Is  it  the  state  in  which  the  Tractarians  and  the  Crypto- 
Papists,  who  so  strongly  regret  the  Reformation,  would  replunge  it  ?  Dear  brother, 
the  state  of  the  English  Church  becomes  ever  more  alarming  to  Christians  on 
the  Continent.  The  evil  appears  to  us  to  have  reached  the  highest  degree,  and 
we  do  not  see  that  the  Church  does  anything  to  remedy  it.  We  ask  if  the  Epis- 
copal system  is  then  inefficacious  to  govern  the  Church  ?  The  Church  of  Scot- 
land has  repressed  the  reveries  of  Irving,  and,  nevertheless,  those  reveries  were 
less  dangerous  than  those  of  Pusey,  Newman,  and  Maitland.  We  love  the 
Church  of  England,  on  account  of  the  word  of  God  on  which  it  rests  ;  of  its 
Articles,  the  faith  of  which  is  so  pure  ;  of  all  the  works,  and  of  all  the  men  of 
God  that  it  has  given  birth  to.  But  one  of  your  colleagues,  a  zealous  Episco- 
palian, who  boasted  to  us  recently  of  the  excellencies  of  this  system,  can  tell 
you,  that  we  have  been  unanimous  in  opposing  to  him  the  actual  state  of  your 
Church.  If  nothing  is  done  against  the  Popery  of  Oxford,  the  cause  of  Epis- 
copacy is  lost  upon  the  Continent ;  it  is  lost  in  the  Church  of  God.  If  the 
Bishops  continue  to  sleep,  remember  that  the  Church  is  the  judge  of  contro- 
versies, and  that  the  Church,  according  to  your  Articles,  is  the  assembly  of 
faithful  men.     Let  faithful  men  then  rise  and  speak. 

"  Dear  brother,  I  pray  for  your  Church  that  lie  who  is  with  us  continually, 
even  to  the  end  of  the  world,  may  himself  fight  against  the  servants  of  human 
traditions,  and  that  the  victory  may  abide  with  the  word  and  the  blood  of  the 
Lamb. 

"  Your  devoted  Friend, 

"  Merle  D'Alt.igne,  D.D." 

I  have  given  the  whole  of  M.  D'AubigneTs  letter,  not  onlvbe- 

O  O  '  ml 

cause,  as  1  have  already  said,  it  is  so  curious  and  so  characteristic 
of  the  class  of  writers  to  whom  he  belongs,  but  that  I  might  not 
be  charged  with  garbling  it.  As  to  great  part  of  it,  it  seems 
to  me  quite  a  sufficient  answer  to  say,  that  specific  statements 
such  as  that  the  Bible  was  a  rare  book,  unknown  in  the  early 
days  of  Luther,  and  that  "  the  Holy  Scriptures  appear  to  have 
had  no  influence  upon  the  instruction  either  of  the  Church 
or  the  School,"  which  are  broad  falsehoods  on  the  very  face  of 
them,  are  not  to  be  supported  by  little  scraps  of  declamation 
from  early  writers  such  as  M.  D'Aubigne  has  thought  it 
worth  while  to  string  together.  I  refer  the  reader  to  what 
1  have  said  on  this  subject  at  p.  32. 

Another  great  portion  is,  I  imagine,  sufficiently  answered  by 


508  NOTE    II. 

saying,  that  if  it  should  be  proved  that  I  am  a  Crypto-Papist, 
and  a  Tractarian,  and  the  properest  person  in  the  world  to  be 
triplicated  with  the  gentlemen  whom  he  has  named,  yet  that 
does  not  affect  the  matter.  Such  evasion  is  too  gross  and 
palpable.  There  is  no  question  about  doctrine  between  us. 
It  is  merely  as  to  matter  of  fact.  It  is  not  at  what  he  has 
written  as  a  theologian,  but  as  an  historian,  that  I  have  taken 
the  liberty  to  laugh,  and  respecting  which  I  have  cautioned 
people  not  to  believe  him  ;  and  a  man  looks  rather  ridiculous, 
who  tries  to  conceal  ignorance  and  blunders  by  assuring  his 
friends  that  the  person  who  points  them  out  is  a  Hottentot. 

There  are.  however,  one  or  two  things  which  require  more 
specific  notice. 

1.  M.  D'Aubigne  professes  to  give  my  words.  He  puts  a 
passage  in  marks  of  quotation,  and  moreover  adds  "  says  he.11 
Of  course  one  cannot  tell  what  representation  the  "  English 
clergyman"  might  make,  and  therefore  I  do  not  mean  to 
charge  M.  D'Aubigne  with  the  stupidity  or  guilt  of  this  impu- 
dent misrepresentation. 

2.  M.  D'Aubigne  says  of  his  own  work,  respecting  which 
he  must  surely  be  supposed  to  know  the  truth,  "  What  I 
have  said  is,  that  Luther  had  never  until  then,  seen  an 
entire  copy  of  the  Holy  Scriptures."  This  is  really  enough  to 
frighten  one.  Does  not  M.  D'Aubigne  know,  did  not  the 
14  English  clergyman"  know,  (the  Record  is  not  suspected  of 
knowing  anything,)  that  M.  D'Aubigne  said  something  more 
than  this,  and  something  very,  very,  different  I  His  statement 
is  express,  that  Luther  having  taken  down  the  Bible,  "  a  rare 
book,  unhioicn  in  those  days,"  was  "  overcome  with  wonder  at 
finding  more  in  the  volume  than  those  fragments  of  the  Gospels 
and  Epistles  which  the  Church  had  selected  to  be  read  in  the 
temples  every  Sunday  throughout  the  year."  And  as  if  this 
did  not  state  the  fact  with  sufficient  force  and  precision,  he 
adds,  "  Till  then  he  had  supposed  these  constituted  the  entire 
Word  of  God."  Even  this  is  not  all.  As  if  to  cut  off  the 
possibility  of  any  such  disgraceful  retreat  as  he  is  now  attempt- 
ing, he  went  on,  "  and  now  behold,  how  many  pages,  how 
many  chapters,  how  many  booh,  of  which  he  had  not  before 
had  a  notion  ! " 

And  yet  after  all  this  M.  D'Aubigne  says,  "  What  I  have 
said  is,  that  Luther  had  never  until  then,  seen  an  entire  copy 
of  the  Holy  Scriptures."     Even  this  would  have  been  next  to 


NOTE    H.  501) 

incredible,  but  it  is  altogether  different  from  saying  as  M. 
D'Aubigne  did  say,  that  Luther  did  not  know  that  there 
was  any  Word  of  God  in  existence  except  the  selected  Epistles 
and  Gospels.  This  was  outrageous ;  and  I  do  not  wonder 
that  M.  D'Aubigne  should  very  much  wish  it  to  be  thought 
that  he  had  not  said  anything  betraying  such  monstrous  igno- 
rance. I  really  was  so  staggered  by  it  that  I  thought  I  might 
be  doing  the  author  injustice  through  some  fault  of  his 
translator ;  and  I  resolved  to  see  the  original.  But  the  pas- 
sage actually  stands  as  I  give  it  below  in  the  third  edition  of 
Paris,  1842  2. 

Let  it  only  be  considered  that  these  statements  of  M. 
D'Aubigne  relate  to  a  man  of  whose  father  he  has  previously 
told  us  that  "  possessing  a  higher  degree  of  mental  cultivation 
than  most  men  of  his  class,  he  read  a  great  deal.  Books  were 
scarce  in  those  days,  but  John  let  pass  no  opportunity  of  pro- 
curing them.11  It  is  rather  surprising  that  no  Bible  or  Testa- 
ment or  Psalter  came  in  his  way ;  especially  as  he  is  said  to 
have  been  a  religious  man.  His  wife  "  was  endowed  with 
the  virtues  that  adorn  chaste  and  pious  women.  In  particular, 
she  was  remarkable  for  modesty,  her  fear  of  God,  and  her 
spirit  of  prayer  ;"  and  therefore  it  is  no  wonder  that  "  the  first 
thought  of  his  pious  parents  was  to  consecrate  to  God  by  bap- 
tism the  infant  he  had  just  given  them.11  During  his  childhood 
his  father  rose  in  the  world,  and  being  made  councillor  of 
Mansfeld,  "  availed  himself  of  his  new  situation  to  seek  the 
society  he  preferred.     He  set  great  store  by  men  of  informa- 


2  "  Le  jeuue  dtudiant  passait  a  la  bibiiotheque  de  l'universite  tous  les 
moments  qu'il  pouvait  enlever  a  ses  travaux  academiques.  Les  livres  etaient 
encore  rares,  et  c'etait  pour  lui  un  grand  privilege  de  pouvoir  profiter  des 
tresors  reunis  dans  cette  vaste  collection.  Un  jour  (il  y  avait  alors  deux 
ans  qu'il  etait  a  Erfurt,  et  il  avait  vingt  ans),  il  ouvre  l'un  apres  l'autre 
plusieurs  des  livres  de  la  bibiiotheque,  afin  d'en  connaitre  les  auteurs.  Un 
volume  qu'il  a  ouvert  a  son  tour  frappe  son  attention.  11  n'en  a  point  vu  de 
semblable  jusqu'a  cette  heure.  II  lit  le  titre  .  .  .  (sic)  c'est  une  Bible  !  livre 
rare,  inconnu  dans  ce  temps-la  l.  Son  interet  est  vivement  excite  ;  il  se  sent 
tout  rempli  d'admiration  de  trouver  autre  chose  dans  ce  volume  que  ces  frag- 
ments d'evangiles  et  d'epitres  que  l'Eglise  a  choisis  pour  les  lire  au  peuple  dans 
les  temples,  chaque  dimanchede  1'annee.  II  avait  cru  jusqu'alors  que  c'itait  la 
toute  la  Parole  de  Dieu.  Et  voila  tant  de  pages,  tant  de  chapitres,  tant  de  livres, 
dont  il  n'avait  aucune  idee  !"  Vol.  I.  p.  197- 

1  A uff  ein  Zeyt,  wie  er  die  Biicher  fein  nacheinander  beneht  .  .  .  («c)  kombt 
er  Dber  die  lateinische  Biblia  .  .  .  (.«/<.•)  (Mathes.  3.) 


510  NOTE    II. 

tion,  and  often  invited  the  clergy  and  schoolmasters  of  the 
place  to  his  table."  We  are  not  surprised  to  hear  that  "  the 
child  profited  by  it,"  and  that  "  as  soon  as  he  was  of  age  to 
receive  some  instruction,  his  parents  sought  to  instil  into  him 
the  knowledge  and  fear  of  God,  and  to  form  him  to  the  Chris- 
tian virtues."     While   he   was    "  still   very   little his 

father  wishing  to  see  him  acquire  the  rudiments  of  those 
studies  he  prized  so  highly,  invoked  upon  him  the  blessing  of 
heaven,  and  sent  him  to  school."  This  was  after  "  the  piety  of 
his  parents,  their  active  habits  and  austere  virtue"  had  uhad  a 
happy  effect  on  the  boy,"  and  had  given  "his  mind  a  grave 
and  attentive  cast."  At  school  "  they  taught  him  the  chapters 
of  the  Catechism,  the  Ten  Commandments,  the  Apostles1 
Creed,  the  Lord's  Prayer,  Canticles,  Forms  of  Prayer,"  beside 
other  things  more  easily  taught  without  allusion  to  the  Old 
or  New  Testament — "in  short,"  says  M.  D'Aubigne,  "they 
taught  him  all  that  was  known  in  the  Latin  school  of  Mans- 
feld."  So  when  he  was  fourteen  he  was  sent  to  Magdeburgh, 
and  his  mind  being  of  a  grave  and  attentive  cast,  "he  ex- 
amined, he  listened.  Andreas  Proles,  the  provincial  of  the 
order  of  Augustinians,  was  then  preaching  with  great  warmth 
the  necessity  of  a  reform  in  religion  and  in  the  Church."  But 
the  young  listener  never  caught  a  hint  that  there  were  any 
pages,  chapters,  or  books  in  the  Word  of  God  except  what 
were  read  for  Epistles  and  Gospels  on  Sundays.  Well,  then 
he  was  sent  "  to  Isenach  where  there  was  a  celebrated  school," 
and  where  he  was  received  as  an  inmate  in  a  Christian  family ; 
where  "  his  whole  being  warmed  beneath  the  mild  rays  of 
charity,  and  began  to  bound  with  life,  joy,  and  contentment. 
His  prayers  were  more  ardent ;  his  thirst  for  knowledge 
greater ;  he  made  rapid  progress."  Still  he  managed  to  steer 
clear  of  any  suspicion  that  there  was  such  a  Book  as  the  Bible 3. 
However  in  his  eighteenth  year  Luther  arrived  at  the  Univer- 


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


NOTE    H.  511 

sity  of  Erfurt;  after  being  there  two  years,  after  studying  ktthe 
Philosophy  of  the  Middle  Ages  in  the  writings  of  Occam,  Scot, 
Bonaventura,  and  Thomas  Aquinas,""  he  made  the  astonishing 
discovery  that  though  "  unknown  in  those  days"  there  was 
such  a  Book  as  the  Bible — very  odd,  was  it  not  I 

3.  There  is  something  very  comic  in  the  manner  in  which 
M.  D'Aubigne  complains  of  my  venturing  to  doubt  that  for 
which  he  actually  gives  an  tw  authority/1 

Now,  in  the  first  place,  M.  D'Aubigne  did  not  give  any 
authority  for  that  part  of  his  statement  which  I  impugned.  On 
the  words,  "  a  rare  book,  unknown  in  those  days,11  he  put  a 
few  German  words,  simply  stating,  that  as,  once  on  a  time, 
Luther  examined  the  books  on  the  shelves,  he  came  to  a  Latin 
Bible.  These  words  were,  of  course,  quite  irrelevant,  and  only 
conveyed  the  idea,  that  by  some  mistake  of  the  printer  the  note 
had  got  out  of  its  place.  But  what  would  have  been  said  of  my 
folly  and  unfairness,  if  I  had  treated  that  reference  to  Mathesius, 
coupled  as  it  was  with  his  quoted  words,  and  given,  as  it  seemed 
to  be,  by  way  of  authority  for  them,  as  containing  a  statement 
that  Luther  had  never  seen  the  book  of  Psalms,  and  did  not 
know  that  there  was  a  book  of  Genesis  in  the  Bible  ?  How 
was  I  to  guess  that  it  was  meant  to  certify  all  that,  and  a  great 
deal  more  ? 

But  M.  D^ubigne  seems  to  think  that  whatever  has  been 
once  said  by  ignorance,  fraud,  or  folly,  may  be  said  again  with 
impunity.  He  gave  an  "  authority  " — why  so  did  Robertson,  and 
Henry,  and  Warton,  for  various  absurd  falsehoods,  as  has 
appeared  on  turning  to  those  authorities ;  but  some  things  arc 
so  plainly  false,  that  one  does  not  need  to  look  at  the  authority 
on  which  they  are  stated.  If  M.  D'Aubigne  had  said,  that  by 
some  singular  infelicity  the  Saxon  Reformer  had  been  educated 
in  an  atheistical  manner,  and  until  he  was  twenty  years  old  had 
been  studiously  prevented  from  coming  to  the  knowledge  of 
the  fact  that  the  Bible  existed — that  he  had  been  kept  by  his 
father  in  the  woods,  never  taught  to  read,  or  allowed  to  go  to 
church,  or  converse  with  Christians, — if  M.  D'Aubigne  had 
told  us  even  this,  strange  as  it  is,  upon  respectable  contemporary 
authorities,  it  would  of  course  be  our  duty  to  look  at  them ; 
but  when  the  story  is  told  of  a  young  gentleman  whose  religi- 
ous education  had  been  particularly  attended  to,  and  who  had 
of  his  own  free  will  been  working  hard  at  Occam,  Scot,  Bona- 
vcnture,   and   Thomas   Aquinas,  it  is  too  much.      We  do  not 


512  NOTE    11. 

need  to  look  at  the  authority.  We  can  only  lament  the 
pitiable  ignorance  of  the  writer  who  could  repeat  such  non- 
sense, and  commend  him  to  the  patronage  of  the  Record. 

I  do  not  know  that  I  have  ever  seen  the  work  of  Mathesius, 
and  I  am  not  better  acquainted  with  it  than,  I  suspect,  M. 
D'Aubigne  is  with  the  works  of  Occam,  Scot,  Bonaventure, 
and  Thomas  Aquinas.  But  I  do  know  one  little  thing,  on  the 
authority  of  Melchior  Adam,  a  writer  whom  M.  D'Aubigne 
quotes  with  respect,  which  makes  me  believe  that  Mathesius 
is  an  authority  not  to  be  implicitly  trusted  on  such  a  point. 
I  suspect  that  he  was  a  little  in  M.  D'Aubigne's  way  of  rhodo- 
montade  and  talking  big  for  effect,  and  perhaps  if  his  words 
had  been  contradicted  on  the  spot,  he  might  have  been  as 
prompt  to  eat  them  as  M.  D'Aubigne  has  been.  Melchior 
Adam  says  that  Mathesius's  account  of  himself  was,  that  hav- 
ing been  brought  up  among  the  papists  until  he  was  twenty- 
five  years  of  age,  he  had  never  heard  in  any  of  their  churches, 
any  mention  of  the  Ten  Commandments,  the  Creed,  the  LoraTs 
Prayer,  or  Baptism*.  I  think  we  may  let  such  an  "  autho- 
rity "  say  what  he  pleases  of  Luther,  or  any  body  else.  Perhaps, 
if  called  on  for  an  explanation,  he  would  have  told  us,  "  What 
I  said  is,  that  it  was  not  customary  for  preachers  in  the  Romish 
Church  to  repeat  all  the  Ten  Commandments,  the  Creed,  the 
Lord's  Prayer,  and  the  Form  for  Baptism,  in  every  sermon. M 
M.  D'Aubigne  may  perhaps  learn  that  authorities  will  not 
shelter  everything,  and  are  apt  to  expose  those  who  have  not 
sufficient  information  to  know  how  to  use  them. 


*  After  speaking  of  the  education  of  Mathesius,  and  telling  us  that  he  had 
learned  the  Catechism  at  school,  Melchior  Adam  proceeds  to  eay,  that  certain 
doctrines  continued  to  be  taught  in  the  schools,  when  they  were  not  heard  of 
in  the  churches  u  in  templis  altum  de  iis  silentium.  Ipse  Mathesius  [marg.  note 
"  Concione  6,  de  vita  Luth.  p.  59.]  alicubi  fatetur,  se,  qui  inter  Pontificios  ad 
annum  usque  setatis  vigesimum  quintum  egerit,  nullam  unquam  audisse  men- 
tionem  fieri  Decalogi,  nut  Symboli  Apostolici,  ant  precationis  Dominicse,  nut 
denique  Baptismi."  Vit.  Germ.  Theol.  p.  404.  Some  may  think  that  I  have 
improperly  limited  his  words  by  the  context  ;  and  perhaps  I  have,  but  the  case 
will  well  afford  it. 


INDEX. 


A bbo,  father  of  Odilo,  Abbot  of  Clugni,   ■ 
300 

Abelard,  Peter,  on  profane  learning,  185 

Absconsa,  what,  330,  n. 

Adegrin  entered  the  monastery  at 
Beaume,  207 

^lfric,  canons  of,  28.  34 

Agues,  the  Empress,  widow  of  Henry 
III.  her  visit  and  gifts  to  the  mo- 
nastery of  Monte  Casino,  208  ; 
some  particulars  respecting  her,  313 

■ ,  Countess  of  Burgundy,  63 

Agobard,  his  works  preserved  by  Mas- 
son,  280 

Agriculture,  monastic,  393 

Ai^ulph,  St.,  at  Provins,  monastery  of, 
353 

Alanus,  on  the  state  of  the  clergy.  30 

Alberic,  Abbot  of  Citeaux,  355 

Albi,  state  of  MSS.  there.  273 

Alcoran,  translated  by  Peter  the  Vene- 
rable, 453 

Alcuin,  his  verses  on  the  bible,  194  ; 
a  lesson  which  he  learned  while  a 
child,  180  ;  St.  Luidger  his  pupil, 
457 

Aldhelm,  Bp.  of  Schireburn,  buying  a 
bible,  193 

Alfred  the  Great,  30 

Altar,  offering  donations  on,  70  ;  by  a 
copy  of  the  gospels,  209 

Alulfus,  monk  of  St.  Martin's  at  Tour- 
nay,  his  Gregorialis,  414,  n. 

Amaiid,  St.,  496 

Ambrose  of  Camaldoli,  MSS.  disco- 
vered by  him,  277 

Angilbert,  Abbot,  gift  of  books  to  St. 
Riquier-.  90S 

Anscharius,  the  bible  given  to  him  by 
Lewis  the  Debonnaire  destroyed  bv 
fire,  196 

Ansegisus,  Abbot  of  Fontanelle,  gave 
a  Bible  to  his  monastery  and  another 
to  St.  Flavians,  194  ;  his  copy  of  the 
gospels,  205 

,  Abbot   of  St.  Riquiers,  his 


gift  of  the  gospels  and  epistles  to  his 

monastery,  208 
Anselm,  Bp.  of  Lucca,  460 
Archives,  provision  for  their  security, 

255 
Arniannis,  Prior  of  Clugni,  atid  Abbot 

of  Manlieu,  347 
Arnold,  Bp.  of  Soissons,  460 
Arnold,  Abbot  of  Villiers,  405 
Aruoul,  St.,  monastery  of,  and  others 

at  Metz,  destroyed  in  war,  233 
Asinorum  ordo,  145,  n. 
Ass,  feast  of  the,  142 
Atto,  Bp.  of  Vercelli,  his  Capitulare, 

154 
Avalon,  church  of,  its  library,  208  ; 

copies  of  the  gospels  there,  ibid. 
Aufridus,  Bp.  of  Utrecht.  461 
Aurea,  the  Abbess,  95,  101 
Auxerre,  cathedral  of,  MSS.  lost  by 

negligence,  272 
Aymard,  Abbot  of  Clugni.  303 


Bardo,  Archbishop  of  Mayence,  472  ; 
his  sermon  before  the  Emperor  Con- 
rad, 478 

Beaume,  granted  to  Count  Berao,  297  '•> 
its  modern  state,  ibid. 

Beaupre,  modern  state  of  the  abbev, 
227 

Bee,  state  of  the  abbey,  178 

Bella  diplomatica,  237 

Benedict,  St.,  Rule  of,  165  ;  the  ori- 
ginal said  to  have  been  burned  with 
the  monaster}'  of  Teano,  234 

Benedictine  Order,  reformation  of  in 
Germany,  329 

Benedictines  of  St.  Maur,  159.  224 

Benedict  III.,  Pope,  his  gitts  to 
churches,  206 

Benignus,  St.  church,  at  Dijon  robbed, 
217  '■>  church  ornaments  sold  for  the 
poor,  218 

Bernard,  St..  his  apology,  359  ;  corre- 
spondence with  Peter  tin  Venerable, 

L  I 


514 


INDEX. 


365.  423  ;   his  chamber  heated  by 
the  introduction  of  hot  air,  404 

Bernard,  Abbot  of  Marseilles,  330 

Berno,  Count  or  Abbot,  founded  the 
monastery  of  Gigni,  296  ;  obtained 
a  grant  of  Beaume,  297  ;  founded 
Clugni,  298 

Berno,  Bp.  of  Hildesheim,  gave  a 
glossed  bible  to  the  library  of  his 
see,  198 

Bertin,  St.,  monastery,  difficulty  of 
access  to  the  MSS.  289 

Berward,  Bp.  of  Hildesheim,  copy  of 
the  gospels  which  he  caused  to  be 
written,  213 

Beze,  a  costly  MS.  of  the  gospels 
there,  209 

Bible,  knowledge  of  in  the  dark  ages, 
188.  193.  260.  455  ;  verses  on,  199. 
201  ;  expense  of  copying,  202  ; 
copies  found  by  literary  travellers, 
290  ;  bequeathed  by  the  Bp.  of 
Cambray  to  the  Carthusians  of  Ma- 
cour,  264  ;  borrowed  by  the  Bp.  of 
Winchester,  ibid. ;  of  Pontius,  Abbot 
of  Clugni,  351  ;  of  Stephen  Harding, 
Abbot  of  Citeaux,  356,  n. 

Bibliotheca,  the  bible  so  called,  194,  n. 

Binding  of  books,  costly  materials  used 
for,  68.  204  ;  leave  from  Charle- 
magne to  hunt  in  order  to  obtain 
leather  for  the  purpose,  215  ;  in 
more  modern  times  MSS.  used  and 
destroyed  for  the  purpose,  278.  280 

Bonus,  Abbot,  43  ;  his  Breve  Recorda- 
tionis,  57  ;  gave  ten  pounds  for  a 
bible,  198 

Books,  high  price  of,  61.  68  ;  offered 
on  the  altar,  70  ;  presented  by  popes, 
72  ;  costly  ones  peculiarly  liable  to 
destruction,  217  5  stripped  of  their 
covers,  218. 220  ;  pawned,  218  ;  lost 
by  pillage,  262  ;  rules  of  lending  at 
Croyland,  266  ;  anathemas  against 
those  who  should  steal  or  injure, 
270  ;  chained  to  the  shelves,  285  ; 
list  of  those  written  by  Othlonus, 
418  ;  by  Diemudis,  419 

Bourges,  state  of  the  MSS.  in  the  Holy 
chapel  there,  274 

Brethwold,  Bp.  of  Salisbury,  his  gift 
of  the  gospels  to  his  church,  210 

Brindler,  access  to  the  MSS.  there  re- 
fused, 289 

Brioys,  Father  Paul,  224 

Brompton,  John,  493 

Bromsall,  Mr.,  of  Blunham,  a  preserver 
of  MSS.  during  the  Rebellion,  288 

Bruno,  Bp.  of  Hildesheim,  gave  a 
glossed  bible  to  the  library  of  his 
see,  198 

Brunwillers,  monastery,  suffered  by 
war,  233 


Caesarius,  Bp.  of  Aries,  107,  B. 
Calefactory,  scriptoria  built  round,  406  ; 

called  Pyrale,  411,  n. 
Calendar,  21,  n. 

Calvinists,  destruction  of  MSS.  by,  231 
Cambron,  Cistercian  abbey  of,  282 
Camisiae  librorum,  212,  n. 
Candelle,  access  to  MSS.  at  refused, 

289 
Canticles,   translated  by   William  of 

Bamberg,  189 
Capella,  travelling,  312 
Capsae  librorum,  212,  n. 
Cave  on  the  mutilation  of  MSS.  285 
Cavea  evangelii,  212,  n. 
Celle,  La,  monastery  of,  327 
Cells,  what,  180,  n. 
Ceppi,  Father,  163.  491 
Chalons,  difficulty  of  access  to  MSS. 

there,  289 
Charite,  La,  sur  Loire,  monastery  de- 
cayed, 263 
Charlemagne,  his  Capitulary,  21  ;  had 

reading  at  supper,  340 
Charta  caritatis  of  Stephen  Harding, 

356 
Chartreuse,  La,  by  Liege,  lost  its  MSS. 

in  war,  233 
Christopher's,  St.,  and  St.  James's,  at 

Stedeburg,  list  of   books  belonging 

to,  198 
Church  property  in  the  dark  ages,  395 
Cistercian  Order,  origin  of,  352  ;  their 

scriptoria,  405.  413 
Citeaux,  monastery  of,  founded,  355  ; 

dissensions  with  Clugni,  358  ;  state 

at  the  time  of  Bernard's  apology, 

366 
Clairvaux,  monastery,  founded,  357 
Clergy,  learning  and  morals  of,  17.  32. 

124.  171 
Cliffe,  or  Cloveshou,  Council  of,  20 
Clotaire,  101 
Clugni,  monastery  of,  its  origin,  294  ; 

invaded  by  Pontius,  348  ;  state  of  at 

the  time  of  Bernard's  apology,  366  ; 

modern  state,  227  \  Ulric's  book  on 

the  customs  there,  332  ;  method  of 

reading  the  Scriptures  there,  336 
Co  Ian,  recluses  at,  352,  353 
Cologne,  MS.  bible  at  St.  Pautaleons, 

there,  292 
Commercium  librorum,  440.  502 
Coopertoria  librorum,  212,  n. 
Cotton,  Sir  John,    his  permission   to 

Dr.  Smith,  282 
Coxe,  Dr.,  his  proceedings  at  Oxford, 

284 
Crassier,  Baron  de,  278.  280 
Cross  made  as  a  signature,  11.  13 
Croyland  Abbey,  same  particulars  of 

its  history  and  destruction, 240,  etteq. 

burned,  252 


INDEX. 


515 


Crusader,  an  old  one  in  a  monastery, 

305 
Crypta-ferrata,  monastery  of,  state  of 

the  MSS.  there,  277 
Cupiditv,  one  cause  of  the  destruction 

of  MSS.  279 


Dado,  St.,  or  St.  Owen,  101.  103 

Dagobert,  101 

Damian,  Peter,  314 

Danes,  destruction  of  MSS.  by,  228  ; 
of  Peterborough  Abbey,  229  ;  of 
Croyland  Abbey,  243 

Dark  Ages,  why  so  called,  1 

D'Aubigne,  M.,  his  History  of  the  Re- 
formation, 468  ;  his  letter  in  the 
Record,  505 

Desiderius,  Abbot  of  Monte  Casino 
(afterwards  Pope  Victor  III.),  his 
gift  of  costly  books  to  his  monas- 
tery, 208 

Diemudis,  a  nun,  a  laborious  writer, 
419 

Difficulty  of  access  to  collections  of 
MSS.  286.  500 

Dilighen,  monastery,  destroyed  by  the 
Calvinists,  232 

Diplomatica  bella,  237 

Dishonesty  one  cause  of  the  destruction 
of  MSS.  279 

Ditmar's  description  of  himself,  37 

Dodico,  Count  of  Warburg,  131 

Dolatura,  236,  n. 

Donations  to  churches  or  monasteries, 
form  of,  73 

Doiiay,  MS.  Psalter  at  St.  Vaasts, 
there,  292 

Dunstan,  Archbp.  of  Canterbury,  459 

Durand,  Dom  Ursin,  his  literary  tra- 
vels, 225 


Earle,  Bp.,  his  translation  of  Hooker 

destroyed,  277 
Edgar,  king,  15,  copy  of  the  gospels 

which  had  belonged  to  him,  218 
Kist.rbac,  MS.  bible  there,  292 
Eloy,  St.,  or  St.  Eligius,  101.  107,  n.  ; 

extracts  from  his  homily,  100.  115. 

150 
Epternac,  two  MS.  copies  of  the  gospels 

there,  293 
Ethelbald,  239 
Etheldritha,  341 
K\(  rhard,  Count  of  Friuli,  his  bequest 

of  a  bible,  196  ;  of  the  gospels,  206 
Eugenius,  subscription  to  the  council 

of  C.l\  IS 
Engenras  III.,  Pope,  Peter  the  Vene- 

rable's  letter  to,  308 
Excrustation,  218 


Falsehoods,  popular,  48 

Fatuorum  festum,  1 42.  1 48 

Ferriere,  monks  of,  52 

Fert£  sur  Grone,  monaster}7  founded, 
357 

Fire,  MSS.  destroyed  by,  233 

Fleury,  monastery,  MSS.  destroyed 
by  the  Calvinists,  232 

Florence  of  Worcester,  493 

Fools,  feast  of,  142.  148 

Frock,  what,  305 

Frutari,  monastery  of,  314 

Fulda  monastery  burned,  235  ;  books 
written  for,  418 

Fulk  the  Good,  Count  of  Anjou,  a 
canon  of  St.  Martin's  at  Tours.  299 

Fuller,  as  to  the  Cluniacs  and  Cister- 
cians, 357,  n. 


Gall,  St.,  monastery,  burned,  235  ;  its 
MSS.  dispersed,' 280 

Gallia  Christiana,  Benedictine  edition 
of,  224 

Gembloux,  monastery,  MSS.  burned, 
233 

Gemma  Animse,  extract  from,  on  pro- 
fane learning,  185 

Gennadius,  Bp.  of  Astorga,  191  ;  be- 
queathed books  to  his  monasteries, 
197 

Geoffry,  sub-prior  of  St.  Barbara's, 
letter  respecting  a  bible,  199 

Germanus,  Michael,  223 

Gerard,  Bp.  of  Csannad,  his  way  of 
travelling,  307 

Gerald,  monk  of  Clugni,  324 

Gerveys,  John,  Bp.  Winchester,  494 

Gibbon,  his  misstatement  relating  to 
the  Hungarians,  292,  n. 

Gigni,  monastery  founded  by  Count 
Berno,  296  ;  modern  state,  298,  n. ; 
access  to  MSS.  refused,  289 

Gloucester  Cathedral,  legend  on  the 
great  bell,  251 

Godehard,  Bp.  of  Hildesheim,  orna- 
mented books,  214 

Godfrey,  Abbot  of  Malmesbury,  strip- 
ped twelve  copies  of  the  gospels,  218 

Godfrey,  monk  of  St.  Martin's  at  Tour- 
nay,  a  skilful  scribe,  414,  n. 

Goldbeaters,  helped  to  destroy  MSS., 
280 

Goldsmith,  the.  81.  100  ;  his  foreman, 
91  ;  his  god-daughter,  95 

Gospels,  costly  copies  of,  204  ;  twelve 
at  St.  Paul's  in  1295,  211  ;  pawned 
to  Jews,  219  ;  ten  copies  stripped  at 
Hide  Abbey,  220 

Grandison,  John,  Bp.  of  Exeter,  270 

Grandinont,  prior  of,  37 

Grammar,  what,  in  the  dark  ftgea,  17-'' 

Grasae,  La,  MS.  of  the  gospels  there 

L  12 


516 


INDEX. 


said  to  have  been  given  by  Charle- 
magne, 291 

Gratian,  a  copy  presented  by  the  Bp. 
of  Auxerre  to  the  monastery  of 
Clairvaux,  265 

Grecia,  Countess  of  Anjou,  61 

Gregorialis  of  Alulfus,  414,  n. 

Gregory,  Pope,  his  letter  to  Desiderius, 
179 

Grimberg,  two  MS.  bibles  there,  293  ; 
its  library  destroyed  by  the  Hugue- 
nots, 232 

Grosthead,  Bp.  of  Lincoln,  Warton's 
misstatement  respecting,  146 

Guesclin,  Du,  16 

Guy  Guerra,  count  of  Tuscany,  12 


Hagano,  canon  of  St.  Martin's  at  Tours, 
subscription  to  his  will,  14,  n. 

Haimon's  homilies,  61.  192 

Harding,  Stephen,  Abbot  of  Citeaux, 
356 

Hariulf,  Abbot  of  Aldernburg,  460 

Hautvilliers,  MS.  gospels  at,  291 

Heimrad,  St.,  130 

Heraclius,  Abp.  of  Lyons,  347 

Heribaud,  Comte  du  Palais,  11 

Heriman,  Abbot  of  St.  Martin's  at  Tour- 
nay,  his  account  of  its  restoration, 
52.  413 

Herluca,  a  nun  of  Eppach,  722 

Henry  II.,  Emperor,  or  St.  Henry,  127- 
207 

Henry's  History  of  England,  misrepre- 
sentations hi,  122 

Hide  Abbey,  destruction  of,  219 

Hincmar,  Abp.  of  Rheims,  causing  the 
gospels  to  be  written,  206 

Hirschau,  monastery  of,  327 

Hirschfeld,  monks  of,  418 

Honorius,  or  the  author  of  the  Gemma 
Animae,  184 

Hubert,  St.,  in  Ardennes,  costly  MS. 
of  the  gospels  there,  209 

Hugh,  Bp.  of  Lincoln,  his  visit  to  an 
old  monk,  340,  n. 

Hugh,  Abbot  of  Clugni,  312.  345 

Hugh,  a  writer,  494 

Humphrey,  duke,  his  library  destroyed, 
284 

Hunegundis,  St.,  101.  103 

Hungarians,  supposed  to  be  Gog  and 
Magog,  229 


Jacob,    a   Jew,    destroyed    Christian 

books,  283 
Jacobins'  monastery   at  Liege,  MSS. 

burned,  233 
Jacobus,  Abbot  of  Villcrs,  406 
Jean  aux  Bellemains,  Abp.  of  Lyons, 

340,  n. 


Jean,  Due,  les  Heures  du,  275 

Jean  de  St.  Vigores,  MS.  bible  at,  292 

Jesuits  borrowing  books,  282 

Jews  at  Cambridge,  their  importance, 

219,  n. 
Ignorance  of  the  clergy,  stories  of,  138 
Ignorance,  one  cause  of  the  destruc- 
tion of  MSS.,  279 
Illyricus,  M.   Flacius,  his  account  of 

Peter  the  Venerable,  382.  397 
Ina,  King,  his  chapel  at  Glastonburv, 

212 
Infirmaries     of     monasteries,      what 

classes  inhabited,  304,  n. 
Ingulph,  Abbot  of  Croyland,  252 
John,  Bp.  of  Bath,  bequest  of  the  gos- 
pels, 210 

Abbot  of  Gorze,  462,  504 

Jones,  William,  translator  of  Dupin, 
362  ;  his  note  on  Peter  the  Venera- 
ble, 363 
Jordanus,  Abbot  of  Chaise-Dieu,  347 
Jortin,  his  account  of  St.  Eloy,  1 08 
Jotsald,  biographer   of  Abbot   Odilo, 

311 
Joiiarre,  MS.  gospels,  291 
Isidore  of  Seville,  18.  25 
Iter  Burgundicum,223  ;  Germanicum, 
ibid. ;  Italicum,  224  ;  in  Alsatiam  et 
Lotharingiam,  ibid. 
Ivo,  Bp.  of  Chartres,  25 
Jurare  manu,  14 

Justin,  Emperor,  his  present  to  Pope 
Hormisda,  205 


Kenulph,  first  Abbot  of  Croyland,  240 


Lambert,  Abbot  of  Lobbes,  459 
Lambert,  Val  St.,  MSS.  sold  or  lost, 

279 
Landlords,  ecclesiastical  in  the  dark 

ages,  394 
Lanfranc,  Abp.,  178.  189.  252 
Lauresheim,   or    Lorsch,    monastery, 

costly  books  pawned  and  lost,  218  ; 

burned,  235 
Legends,  Romish,  38 
Leibnitz,  140 

Leo  III.,  Pope,  gifts  to  churches,  205 
IV.,    Pope,    gift     of    books    to 

churches,  206 
Lerins,  access  to  MSS.  refused,  289 
Letters  of  the  dark  ages   should  be 

collected,  383.  501 
Lewis  IV.  of  France,  Fulk,  Count  of 

Anjou's  letter  to,  299 
the  Debonnaire,  bible  presented 

by,  217  ;  gifts  to  the  monastery  of 

St.  Medard,  205 

,  monk  of  Wessobrun,  406 

Libertas  Decembrica,  155 


INDEX. 


517 


Librorum   comniercium,    carried    on 

among  the  learned  in  the  dark  ages, 

440.  502 
Limoges,  state  of  MSS.  at  the  Abbey 

of  St.  Martial,  273 
Literary  travels,  222 
Lobbes,  access  to  MSS.  refused,  289 
Locomotion,  rate  of  in  the  dark  ages, 

248 
Loroy  Abbey  destroyed  by  fire,  234 
Lorsch,  Abbot  of,  419;  see  Lauresheim 
Louis    XI.    borrowing   the  works   of 

Rasis,  67 
Lucelle,  monastery,library  burned,233 
Lupiein,  St.,  scripture  MSS.  there,  290 
Lupus,  Abbot  of  Ferrieres,  50 
Luther,  his  education,  468.  505 
Lutold,  Lord  of  Rumelingen,  325 
Luxeuil,  scripture  MSS.  there,  290 
Lyons,  difficulty  of  access  to  MSS.,  289 


Mabillon,  Dom,  his  controversy  with 
De  Ranee  on  monastic  studies,  161. 
491;  Iter  Burgundicum,  223;  Iter 
Germanicum,  ibid. ;  Iter  Italicum, 
224  ;  Iter  Literariuni  in  Alsatiam  et 
Lotbaringiam,  ibid. ;  found  the  life 
of  St.  Placidus  at  Monte  Casino,  in 
the  binding  of  another  book,  278 

Maclaine,  Dr.,  his  account  of  St.  Eloy, 
108 

Mainerius,  Abbot  of  St.  Victor's  at 
Marseilles,  a  statue  of,  265 

Maiolus,  or  St.  Mayeul,  Abbot  of  Clugni, 
303  ;  reading  on  horseback,  307 

Malmesburv  Abbey,  library  destroyed, 
281. 

Malmidi,  MS.  bible  there,  292 

Manu  jurare,  15 

Manual  labour  of  monks,  393 

Manuscripts  gone  from  various  monas- 
teries which  had  possessed  collec- 
tions, 227,  228.  231  ;  hidden  for 
safety,  278  ;  loss  of  by  pillage,  262; 
sold  or  lost,  279  ;  stolen  by  the 
"  curious,"  282 ;  mutilation  of,"  284  ; 
destruction  of,  499 

Maps  ecclesiastical,  wanted,  352,  n. 

Marcigni,  nunnery  at,  325.  346 

Mark,  St.,  Montfaucon's  account  of  a 
MS.  of  his  gospel,  272 

Martel,  Geoftry,  Count  of  Anjou,  63 

Martene,  Dom  Edmund,  his  literary 
travels,  224  ;  his  Thesaurus  Novus 
Anecdotorum  and  Amplissima  Col- 
lectio,  225 

Martin,  a  monk  of  Moutier-neuf,  of  a 
costly  copy  of  the  gospels,  213 

,  St.,  de  Canigoux,  difficulty  of 

access  to  MSS.  289 

-*S  St.,  at  Tournay,  monks  of,  52, 


(«M  Heriman) 


Materials,  costly,  of  books,  68.  72 
Mathesius,  his  account  of  himself,  512 
Maur,  St.,  Benedictines  of,  224 

,  on  the  Loire,  bible  at.  196 

Meinwerc,  Bp.  of  Paderborn,  history 
of  his  reading  "  mulis  et  mulalms," 
for  "  famulis  et  famulabus,"  125 
Mennitius,  Father,  MSS.  recovered  by, 

278 
Merton  College,  Oxford,  MSS.  carried 

away  from,  284 
Metz,  MS.  bible  at,  291 ;  St.  Vincent's 

MS.  gospels,  292 
Michael,   Emperor,   his   gifts   to   the 
church  of  St.  Peter,  206 

,  St.  at  Tonnere,  monastery  of, 

352 
Michel,  St.,  MS.  Greek  psalter  at,  291 
Milner,  of  Peter  the  Venerable,  343. 

361  ;  of  Luther,  469 
Molesme,  forest  of,  353 
Monastic   life,    159  ;   studies,  contro- 
versy respecting,  161 
Monks,  illiterate,  158;  learning  of,  172 
Montfaucon,   Father,   Diarium    Itali- 
cum, 224 
Morimond,  monastery  founded,  357 
Mosheim's  account  of  St.  Elov,  101. 

104.  114 
Moutier-la-Celle,  monastery  of,  352 
Munster  Abbey,  suffered  by  war,  233 
Mutilation  of  MSS.  284. 


Nantes,  Council  of,  19  ;  laid  waste  by 
the  Normans,  but  the  Bible  pre- 
served, 195 

Nantua,  monastery  of,  310 

Narbonne  Cathedral,  MSS.  there,  273 

Negligence  a  cause  of  the  loss  of  MSS. 
263 

Nicholas,  St.,  aux  Bois,  monastery, 
368,  n. 

,  St.  de  Tolentino,  163,  n. 

,  St.  Bernard's  secretary,  402 

his  Scriptoriolum,  404.  422.  433 
Peter  the  Venerable's  letter  to,  435 
his  letter  to  Peter,  436  ;  Peter's  let 
ter  to  Bernard  concerning  him,  438 
his  real  character,  441  ;  what  be- 
came of  him,  443 

Xidermunster,  monastery  of,  419 

Nigel,  Bp.  of  Ely,  robbed  of  a  copy  of 
the  gospels,  217  ;  pawned  the  gospels 
to  the  Jews,  219 

Nonantula,  the  monastery  burned,  231 ; 
modern  state  of,  227 

Normans,  destruction  of  MSS.  by,  228 

Notker,  monk  of  St.  Gall's,  408 


Obermunster,  monastery  of,  419 
Odilo,  Abbot  of  Clugni,  310 


518 


INDEX. 


Oclo  (Abbot  of  Clugni)  tempted  to  read 
Virgil,  183;  entered  at  Beaume,  297; 
removed  to  Clugni,  298  ;  bis  father 
Abbo,  300  ;  succeeded  Berno  as  Ab- 
bot of  Clugni,  ibid.;  anecdotes  of, 
301  ;  read  on  horseback,  307  ;  sold 
the  sacred  vessels  for  the  poor,  218 

,  Abbot  of  St.  Martin's  at  Tour- 
nay,  his  writers,  414 

Offa,  King,  gave  a  bible  to  the  church 
of  Worcester,  194 

Olbert,  Abbot  of  Gembloux,  gift  of 
copies  of  the  gospels  and  epistles  to 
his  church,  210  ;  wrote  a  bible,  197 

Omer,  St.,  subscription  to  his  will,  13 

Orders,  examination  of  candidates  for, 
16 

Othlonus,  monk  of  St.  Emmerams,  a 
laborious  writer,  416 

Otmersheim  Abbey,  lost  its  MSS.  by 
war,  233 

Owen,  St.,  or  Dado,  101.  103 

Oxford,  Dr.  Coxe's  proceedings  and 
those  of  the  royal  delegates  there, 
284. 


Paderborn,  schools  at,  141 

Pandectes,  the  bible  so  called,  194,  n. 

Paraclet,  L'Abbaye  du,  difficulty  of 
access  to  MSS.  289 

Paul,  Abbot  of  St.  Alban's,  gift  of  two 
copies  of  the  gospels  to  his  church, 
208 

Paul's,  St.,  books  there,  21 1 

Peter  the  Venerable,  343.  423  ;  his  re- 
ply to  St.  Bernard's  Apology,  373. 
387-  395  ;  represented  by  Illyricus 
as  a  witness  against  the  Papacy, 
382.  397  ;  his  letters  to  the  Pope, 
398  ;  his  letters  to  Peter  of  Poic- 
tiers,  444 

,  Abbot  of  Moutier-la-Celle,  403 

Abelard  on  profane  learning,  1 85 

Damian,  314  ;  on  profane  learn- 
ing, 184 
—  of  Poictiers,  secretary  of  Peter 


the  Venerable,  444 
-  Waldo,  340,  n. 


Peterborough   monastery    burned   by 

the  Danes,  229 
Placidus,  St.,  see  Mabillon 
Plenarius,  419 

Poggio,  MSS.  discovered  by,  277 
Pont  a  Mousson,  two  MS.  bibles,  291 
Pontigny  monastery  founded,  357 
Pontius,  Abbot  of  Clugni,  345 
Vezelai,    347,   348  ; 

his  bible,  351,  n. 
Popes,  presents  of  books  by,  72 
Popular  falsehoods,  48 
Porta,  Dom  Joseph,  his  account  of  the 


controversy  respecting  monastic  stu- 
dies, 160 

Printing  and  writing,  comparison  of, 
415 

Profane  learning,  view  of  in  the  dark 
ages,  173 

Proxy,  signing  by,  13 

Pryel,  monastery  of,  419 

Psalmody,  monkish,  302.  338.  460 

Purpose  of  the  work,  3 

Pyrale,  411,  see  Calefactory 


Quintilian,  discovered  by  Poggio,  277 


Rabanus  Maurus,  22 

Ralph,  Bp.  of  Rochester,  gifts  to  his 
church,  209 

Ralph  de  Baldock,  Dean  of  St.  Paul's, 
his  visitation  of  the  treasury  of  St. 
Paul's,  211 

Ranee',  De,  160  ;  controversy  with 
Mabillon,  161 

Reading  mentioned,  357,  n. ;  well,  23 

at  meals,  341 

Rebais,  modern  state  of  the  monastery, 
227 

Reculfus,  constitutions  of,  26 

Refectory,  reading  in,  341 

Reform,  church,  in  the  middle  ages. 
34,  n. 

Regino  Prumiensis,  16.  29.  49 

Relics  in  the  binding  of  books,  211 

Rheims  Cathedral,  archives  burned, 
233  ;  Scripture  MSS.  there,  291 

Riquier's,  St.,  monastery  at  Centule, 
return  of  their  property  contains 
two  bibles,  195  ;  books  there,  212  ; 
catalogue,  339  ;  MS.  gospels  given 
by  Charlemagne,  292 

Ratpert,  monk  of  St.  Gall's,  408 

Robert,  cousin  of  St.  Bernard,  360 

,  founder  of  the  Cistercian  order, 

352 

, King, bequeathed  to  thechurch 

of  St.  Anian  six  copies  of  the  gos- 
pels, 210 

Robertson's  Charles  the  Fifth,  misre- 
presentations in,  9.  16.  30.  35.  41. 
49,  50.  52.  61.  67-  70.  103.  142; 
monkish  reply  to,  37 

Rodulf,  monk  of  St.  Wast,  a  scribe, 
verses  by,  267 

Rodulph,  King  of  Burgundy,  charter 
for  the  monastery  of  Gigni,  296 

Romans,  collegiate  church  six  times 
destroyed,  262 

Rose,  Rev.  Hugh  J.,  notes  by,  56.  100 

Ivossano,  Abp.  of,  his  statement  to 
Father  Montfaueon,  as  to  the  de- 
struction of  the  doeuments  of  his 
see,  278 


IXDEX. 


519 


Rosseauville,    difficulty   of    access   to 
MSS.  289 


Sacros  libros,  meaning  of  the  phrase 
as  used  by  the  writers  of  the  dark 
ages,  87 
Sanctainand,  or  St.  Aniand,  496 
Sanctitas  vestra,  the  title  used,  424 
Saracens,  irruption  into  Italy,  231 
Scarcity  of  MSS.,  222 
Scriptoria  of  monasteries,  404 
Scriptura  sacra,  meaning  of  the  phrase 
as  used  by  writers  of  the  dark  ages, 

87 

Scriptures,  method  of  reading  at  Clugni, 
336  ;  treatment  of  in  the  dark  ages, 
203,  motto,  220 

Seldeu,  Mr.  too  free  in  lending  books, 
282 

Sempecta,  what,  305 

Sens,  the  abbey  of  St.  Pierre  le  Vif 
destroyed  nine  or  ten  times,  263 

Siegler,  M.,  278 

Signature,  by  the  sign  of  the  cross,  11. 
13  ;  by  proxy,  13  ;  with  consecrated 
wine,  15 

Signs  used  by  monks  instead  of  speak- 
ing, 403,  n. 

Sindolf,  monk  of  St.  Gall's,  409.  424,  n. 

Sithiu,  monks  of,  grant  of  Charlemagne 
to,  215 

Siward,  Abbot  of  Croyland,  241 

Soissons,  St.  Medard,  copy  of  the  gos- 
pels presented  by  Lewis  le  Debon- 
naire,  292 

Solomon,  Bp.  of  Constance,  407.  424,  n. 

Soucilanges,  monastery  of,  347 

Soudiacres,  157 

Stephen,  Abbot  of  Beze,  gave  a  bible 
to  his  monastery,  198 

Strasburg,  access  to  MSS.  refused,  289 

Stripping  costly  books,  218.  220 

Switzerland,  History  of,  for  young  per- 
sons, 48 


Tarbe,    documents   of   the    cathedral 
church  burned  by  the  Calvinists,  231 
Tassilo,  Duke  of  Bavaria,  11.  422 
Teano  monastery  burned,  234 
Tegernsee,  monastery  of,  417-  422.  503 
Theau,  St.,  or  Tillo,  101.  103 
Theoderic,  Abbot  of  St.  Evroul,  address 
to  his  monks  on  writing,  268 

,  junior,  Bp.  of  MLetz  preached 

before  the  Emperor  Conrad,  477 
Theodore,  Abbot  of  Croyland,  when  in- 
vaded by  the  Dams,  243 
Theodulfus,  Bp.   of  ( hkans,  made   a 

at  bible,  194 
Th<  saurus  Novus  Antcdotorum,  Mar- 
tone's,  225 


Theudere,  St.,  monastery,  its  MSS.  d  - 
stroyed  by  the  Calvinists,  231 

Thierry,  Abbot  of  St.  Evroul,  causes  a 
bible  to  be  written,  198 

St.  Hubert's,  read- 
ing on  horseback,  307.  460 

Thieto,  abbot  of  St.  Gall,  234 

Thoiiars,  Abbey  of  St.  John  at,  its 
documents  dispersed  by  the  Calvin- 
ists, 232 

Tillo,  St.,  or  Theau,  101.  103 

Todd,  Dr.,  his  MS.  of  the  Gregorialis, 
414,  u. 

Toledo,  VIII.  council  of,  18 

Trappe,  La,  357 

Trithemius,  on  monks  being  employed 
in  writing,  271 

Trone,  St., access  to  MSS.  refused,  289 

Turgar,  his  life  preserved  when  the 
Danes  destroyed  Croyland  abbey  in 
870,  244  ;  the  youngest  of  the  only 
three  monks  who  lived  there  in  the 
year  941,  245  ;  his  journey  to  Lon- 
don in  the  year  948,  249 

Turketul,  Chancellor,  245,  et  seq. ;  his 
division  of  his  monks  when  Abbot  of 
Croyland,  304. 

Tutilo,  monk  of  St.  Gall's,  408 


Val  Dieu,  La,  MS.  bible  there,  292 

Vedastus,  S.     See  Wast,  St. 

Verdun,  Abp.  of,  refused  access  to  his 

MSS.  288 

,  MS.  gospels  at,  291 

Veterum  Scriptorum,  etc.  Amplissima 

Collectio,  Martene's,  226 
Vezelai,  monastery  of,  347 
Uffenbach,  M.,  his  collection,  280 
Ulric,  a  monk  of  Clugni,  313.  321 ;  his 

book  on  the  customs  of  Clugni,  332 
Voyage  litteraire  de   deux  Religieux 

Benedictins  de  la  Congregation   de 

St.  Maur,  226 


Waldo,  Peter,  340,  n. 

Walter,  Bp.  of  Rochester,  gift  of  the 
gospels  to  his  church,  209 

War,  destruction  of  MSS.  by,  228 

Warton,  his  mistake  about  Bp.  Grost- 
head  and  the  Festum  Asinoruin, 
146  ;  his  misrepresentation  respect- 
ing Gennadius,  Bp.  of  Astorga,  191 ; 
about  Olbert,  Abbot  of  Gembloux, 
197  ;  of  a  grant  of  Charlemagne, 
215  ;  respecting  the  Bp.  of  Win- 
chester's borrowing  a  bible,  264  ; 
of  Alfred's  ignorance,  492  ;  of  Hugh 
the  writer,  494  ;  <>{*  Sanctamand, 
496  ;  his  character  of  Voltaire,  498 

Wast,  St., monaster)  six  times  Luna  >!. 
234 


520 


INDEX. 


Wessobrunn,  monastery  of,  419 
Wharton,  H.,  his  Anglia  Sacra,  499 
White,  Bampton  lecturer,  his  account 

of  St.  Eloy,  108 
Wicbert,  Bp.  of  Hildesheim,  wrote  a 

bible  for  his  church,  193.  196 
Wichtlaf,  King  of  Mercia,  241 
Wilfrid,  Abp.,  gift  of  the  gospels  to 

the  church  of  Ripon,  212,  n. 
William,  Count  of  Auvergne,  patron- 
ized the  founding  of  Clugni,  298 

de  Longchamp,  Bp.  of  Ely, 

pawned  thirteen  copies  of  the  gos- 
pels, 218 

-,  Abbot  of  Dijon,  charter  of 


his  respecting  a  costly  copy  of  the 
gospels,  207 


William,  Abbot  of  Hirschau,  32/  ;  his 
twelve  writers,  329.  413 

St.  Thierry's  near 

Rheims,  St.  Bernard's  apology  ad- 
dressed to  him,  359.  368,  n. 
of  Bamberg,  189 


Willibrod,  St.,  copy  of  the  gospels  sup- 
posed to  be  his,  293,  n. 

Withred,  King  of  Kent,  1 1 

Wolphelm,  Abbot  of  Brunwillers,  461 

Writers,  zealous  and  indefatigable,  416 

Writing,  large  sums  paid  for,  66 ;  and 
printing,  comparison  of,  415 

Wulgarius,  monk  of  Cisoing,  gave  a 
bible  to  his  monastery,  196 

Wulstan,  Bp.  of  Worcester,  460 


THE    END. 


Gilbert  &   Kivington    Printers,  St.  John's  Square,  London. 


WORKS  BY  THE  REV.  S.  R.  MAITLAND. 


i. 

FACTS  and  DOCUMENTS  illustrative  of  the  Historv,  Doctrines,  an 
Rites  of  the  ancient  ALBIGENSES  and  \Y  ALDENSES. 

8vo.     10s. 

ii. 

A  LETTER  to  the  Rev.  Dr.  MILL,  containing  some  STRICTURES 

on  Mr.  FABER'S  recent  WORK,  entitled  "The  Ancient 

Vallenses  and  Albigenses." 

8vo.     Is.  6d. 

m. 
The    VOLUNTARY    SYSTEM. 

New  Edition.     Small  8v«».  (>.<.  fj./. 

IV. 

An  ENQUIRY  into  the  Grounds  on  which  the  PROPHETIC  PERIOD 
of  DANIEL  and  ST.  JOHN  lias  been  supposed  to  consist  of  12G0  Years. 

8vo.     3s. 

v. 

A   SECOND   ENQUIRY  on  the  same  Subject,  containing  an  Examina- 
tion of  the  Arguments  of  Mede,  Sue. 

8vo.     6s. 

VI. 

An    ATTEMFP     to    ELUCIDATE    the    PROPHECIES    concerning 

ANTICHRIST. 

8vo.     Is. 

vn. 
The  1260  DAYS,  in  Reply  to  a  Review  in  the  "  Morning  Watch." 

8vo.     Is. 

VIII. 

A  LETTER  to  the  Rev.  W.  DIGBY,  A.M.,  occasioned  by  his 
"Treatise  on  the  12G0  Days." 

8vo.     2s. 

IX. 

The   1260  DAYS,  in   Reply  to  the  "STRICTURES"  of  WILLIAM 

CUNINGHAME,  Esq.,  of  Lainshaw,  in  the  County  of  Ayr. 

8vo.     3s.  6d. 

x. 

NOTES  on  the  CONTRIBUTIONS  of  the  Rev.  GEORGE  TOWNS- 
END,  M.A.,  Canon  of  Durham,  to  the  New  Edition  of 
FOX'S  MARTYBOLOGY.    In  Three  Parte: 

1.  On  the  Memoir  of  Fox,  ascribed  to  his  Son.     2.  Puritan  Thaumaturgy. 
3.  Historical  Authority  of  Fox. 

8vo.     8s.  &L 


WORKS  BY  THE  REV.  S.  R.  MAITLAND    [continued). 

XI. 

REMARKS  on  the  Rev.  S.  R.  CATTLEY'S  DEFENCE  of  his 
EDITION  of  FOX'S  MARTYROLOGY. 

8vo.     2s.  6i. 

XII. 

TWELVE  LETTERS  on  FOX'S  ACTS  and  MONUMENTS, 

reprinted  from  the  British  Magazine. 

8vo.     6s. 

XIII. 

A  REVIEW  of  FOX'S  HISTORY  of  the  WALDENSES. 

8vo.     Is.  M. 

XIV. 

A  LETTER  to  a  FRIEND  on  the  TRACT  for  the  TIMES,  No.  89- 

8vo.     is. 

XV. 

THE  TRANSLATION  of  BISHOPS. 
8vo.     Is. 

XVI. 

A   LETTER   to   the  Rev.  HUGH    JAMES    ROSE,  B.  D. 

Chaplain  to  his  Grace  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  ; 
With   STRICTURES   on   MILNER'S   CHURCH   HISTORY. 

8vo.     Is.  (id. 

XVII. 

A  SECOND  LETTER  to  the  Rev.  HUGH  JAMES  ROSE,  B.D., 

Containing   NOTES  on  MILNER'S  HISTORY  of  the  CHURCH 

in  the  FOURTH  CENTURY. 

8vo.     2s.  (id. 

xvm. 

A  LETTER  to  the  Rev.  JOHN  KING,  M.A., 

Incumbent  of  Christ's  Church,  Hull  ; 

Occasioned  by  his  PAMPHLET  entitled  "  Maitland  not  authorized 

to  censure  Milner." 

8vo.     2s.  Gd. 

XIX. 

REMARKS  on  that  part  of  the  Rev.  J.  KING'S  PAMPHLET  entitled 

"  Maitland  not  authorized  to  censure  Milner,"  which  relates  to 

the  WALDENSES,  including  a  Reply  to  the 

REY.  G.  S.  FABER'S  SUPPLEMENT, 

entitled  "  Reinerius  and  Maitland." 

8vo.     2s.  6d. 

XX. 

AN  INDEX  of  such  ENGLISH  BOOKS  printed  before  the  year  MDC. 
as  are  now  in  the  Archiepiscopal  Library  at  Lambeth. 

8vo.     4s.  Gd. 


RIVINGTONS  : 

ST.    PAl  L'S   CHURCH   YARD,   AND  WATERLOO  TLACL,   TALL   MALL. 


* 


D  119  .M23  1845  IMS 

Maitland,  Samuel  Roffey 
The  dark  ages 
47087403 


OF    MEDIAEVAL   STUDt*;! 

5^     QUEEN'S     PARK