Ex . libris . S . Mariae .
de . Stan brook .
THE LIFE
ST. AUGUSTINE OF CANTERBURY,
APOSTLE OF THE ENGLISH.
J?>ome fkomnt of fyt CEarfo JSrtttd) Cijurd).
MANSUETI ILERED1TABUNT TEKRAM, ET DELEOTABUNTUR IN
MULTITUDINE PACIS.
LONDON:
JAMES TOOVEY, 192, PICCADILLY.
1845.
LONDON :
Printed by S. & J. BENTLKY, WILSON, and FLEY,
Bangor House, Shoe Lane.
ADVERTISEMENT.
THE author is sorry that illness and other similar
causes have obliged him to delay the publication of the
Second Part of this Life very much indeed beyond the
time at which he had hoped that it might have ap-
peared.
He ought, perhaps, to add likewise, that it has been
in part written under circumstances of a public and
private nature, more or less disadvantageous towards
the calm thought and continuous attention which are
due to a subject so solemn as the Life of a Saint.
He takes this opportunity of expressing his thanks
to a writer in the Christian Remembrancer of July
last, as well for the kind and considerate tone of his
criticisms upon the former portion of this Life, as for
his observations upon one or two historical matters,
which the author will not fail to reconsider and re-
examine in the event of another edition of the Life being
published.
While the sheets are passing through the press, the
Librarian of Corpus Christi College, Cambridge, has
obligingly mentioned that in the Library of that Society
are contained two manuscripts of the Gospels, said to
have been sent by St. Gregory to St. Augustine,
which the author regrets that time does not allow
him to investigate. He has just heard also that there
is a similar MS. in the Bodleian, which had escaped the
iv ADVERTISEMENT.
notice of the kind friend to whose researches in that
library he is so much indebted.
The pressure under which this Part of the Life of
St. Augustine has been necessarily completed, must also
be urged as an apology for the omission of all minute
i once to Gocelin's Narrative of his Translation. As
that Treatise, however, extends to St. Augustine's im-
mediate successors in the See of Canterbury, an oppor-
tunity of supplying the omission may, it is hoped, pre-
sent itself in a future Number of the Series.
CONTENTS.
CHAP. PAGE
I. The British Church. Its first Teachers 1
II. The British Church King Lucius 12
III. The British Church. St. Alban, and the Fruits of his
Martyrdom 19
IV. The British Church. Visits to St. Germamis 25
* V. The British Church. Its Degeneracy and Afflictions 41
VI. St. Gregory the Great, the Spiritual Father of England 47
VII. St. Gregory the Great 56
VIII. King Ethelbert and Queen Bertha 64
IX. St. Augustine ; his Journey through France 70
X. St. Augustine in Thanet 89
XI. St. Augustine in Canterbury 101
XII. Munificence of Ethelbert. First Anglo-Saxon Churches
and Monasteries 115
XIII. Monastery of St. Augustine 127
XIV. Mission of St. Mellitus and his Companions 145
XV. Questions and Answers on the English Church 154
XVI. Letters of St. Gregory to Ethelbert and Bertha 173
XVII. The Pall 182
XVIII. The Archiepiscopal Progress 187
XIX. St. Augustine. His Miracles and their Evidence .... 194
XX. First Panbrittanic Conference 205
XXI. Second Conference 221
XXII. St. Augustine. His Latter Years 235
XXIII. St. Augustine. His Death 243
XXIV. Posthumous Miracles. Conclusion 247
THE LIFE OF
ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY, APOSTLE OF THE ENGLISH.
CHAPTER I.
THE BRITISH CHURCH. ITS FIRST TEACHERS.
A.D. 51 A.D. 182.
NEVER was the face of a country more speedily and
entirely changed than was that of our own island by
the inroads of its Saxon conquerors in the fifth and
sixth centuries of the Christian sera. Secular histo-
rians have recounted how those fierce invaders swept
all before them like a torrent ; drove the ancient people
of the land into its farthest recesses, or compelled them
to take shelter behind its mountain-fastnesses ; estab-
lishing themselves in the places which they had laid
waste, and demolishing with ruthless hands the comely
fabric of civilization and social order which had been
gradually growing up in Britain since its subjugation
to the Roman power.
They, meanwhile, who read the history of their coun-
try with a Christian and Catholic eye, will regard with
an interest, such as no mere record of political changes
and worldly reverses can inspire, the effect of this sud-
den and mighty revolution upon the religious condition
'2 THE BRITISH CHURCH. [CH.
and destinies of Britain. To them, the contest between
the aboriginal inhabitants of the island and their im-
petuous conquerors, if contest it can be called, where
the panic- were so unequally matched in numbers and
resources, will seem chiefly memorable, not as it was
a trial of human strength, or a struggle for national
ascendancy, but as it was a war of extermination waged
by a heathen people against one, which, however mise-
rably debased in practice, was yet in name and privi-
lege, Christian. The Church, which had dislodged,
by little and little, one vast system of idolatry, was
now in turn to be herself displaced by another, less
compact and imposing indeed, but not less wicked.
Our own venerable historian, St. Bede, in describing the
religious consequences of this great national visitation
(for such he accounts it), speaks of " buildings public
and private, levelled to the ground; priests everywhere
massacred at the very altars ; and prelates with their
{locks swept away by fire and sword." 1 It seemed like
a new fulfilment of the prophet's words: " Ascendit
contra earn gens ab Aquilone, quse ponet terram ejus in
solitudinem : et non erit qui habitet in ea ab homine
usque ad pecus, et moti sunt, et abierunt." 2 Thus
was heathenism once more dominant in the land which
had been trodden by saintly footsteps, and watered by
Martyrs' blood.
I ( is true that our Lord did not, even in this gloomy
interval, leave 1 1 imself without witness in Britain; and
so gave a pledge that He still watched over it, and
would one day come to its help. Yet the prospects of
Hi- Church in this our island, during the period to
which we are referring, were to human eyes sufficiently
1 S. Bcde, Hist. Eccl. Gent. Ang. lib. i. c. 15. 2 Jer. L. 3.
I.] ITS FIRST TEACHERS. 3
dismal. The land, in its length and breadth, was over-
spread by darkness ; gross, palpable, darkness. The
light of God's Lamp, though not extinct, was pent up
where it could not be seen ; the Church, whose place
is everywhere, was, in England, imprisoned within fixed,
and, for all that appeared, impassable, barriers ; it
was but coextensive with the now shrivelled boundaries
of the ancient British name. As the war drew to a
close, and the aboriginal islanders resigned their former
possessions into the hands of an enemy whom they could
no longer resist, settled heart-burnings, and jealousies,
of which it is painful even to think, took the place
of more active and sanguinary hostilities. Britain was
now a nation divided against itself ; and pride and resent-
ment interposed an effectual obstacle to the reconcilia-
tion of the conquerors and the conquered within that
universal Fold, " where there is neither barbarian, Scy-
thian, bond nor free ;" in which all worldly distinc-
tions are neutralized, and all narrowing prejudices over-
ruled.
At this critical juncture, it pleased Almighty God
to move the heart of His servant St. Gregory, the first
of that name who filled the chair of St. Peter, and,
for his eminent virtues, surnamed the Great, with com-
passion towards our afflicted country ; and to direct
hither the steps of that blessed Saint, whose life is to
form the subject of these humble pages. Happily for
England, she had before established, against this her
hour of need, a title to those especial favours which are
ever in store for a Church of Martyrs. The seed whose
manifold return, how long soever delayed, is never-failing
in the end, had already been profusely sown in her own
soil. And thus, " after many days," the blood of holy
Alban and his companions which had "cried from
4 THE BRITISH CHURCH. [CH.
tin- Around" for mercy upon desolate England, was to
re its answer in the mission of a new Apostle to
shores. Even, as the blood of Stephen, first heir
of his Master's Cross, had its abundant harvest in the
Conversion and Apostleship of St. Paul, did the suf-
ferings of our glorious Protomartyr win for England
the pitying regards of St. Gregory and the Apostolic
labours of his blessed son in the faith. For many ages,
\lban was accounted the Patron of England, and
national blessings were traced, by religious men
1.1, to the effect of his death, or looked upon as
answers to his continual prayers. 3 Nor can we doubt
that, among the chief fruits of his sufferings and inter-
cession is to be numbered that gracious interposition
of our Lord in behalf of His Church, by which this
i shi i id was for the second time wrested from the Enemy's
grasp, and brought under the healing shade of the True
Vine.
Although, then, the ancient Church of Britain pre-
sen ted no visible tokens of life to the eyes of our Saint,
ujM)H his landing on English ground, we may not ques-
tion that the way had been really, though secretly, pre-
pared for him, through the power of Divine Grace
manifested in the works and sufferings of those
who had preceded him in this scene of his labours.
And. accordingly, some notice of the ancient Church of
Britain, its origin, rise, and decline, seems a fitting,
if not necessary, introduction to the history of one, whose
very title to our veneration, as the second Founder of
the rhmvh in our island, suggests the grateful remem-
brance <f mercies vouchsafed to Britain in the ages
re him. As it is due to his memory, to point out
3 Sec his Life by the Rev. A. Butler. (June '2'2.)
I.] ITS FIRST TEACHERS. 5
how entirely the vestiges of Christ had disappeared from
that portion,, at least, of the island, into which he was
immediately called, and thus how strictly his labours
were of a Missionary and Apostolic character ; so does it
seem due to theirs, who went before him, to begin our
narrative with some connected account of those earlier
triumphs of faith, by which his course was smoothed,
rather than with the abrupt mention of the degeneracy,
which created the necessity for his mission.
The light of the Gospel is believed to have dawned
upon Britain as early as the age of the Apostles. St.
Bede, indeed, takes no notice of a Church here, till the
time of King Lucius, or towards the end of the second
century ; but a yet earlier historian, whose name, like
his own, is invested with the honours of sanctity, St.
Gildas, makes the introduction of Christianity into
Britain anterior to a great revolt of the inhabitants,
evidently corresponding with that under Boadicea, in A.D.
6 1. 4 The same historian appears to direct us for the
origin of Christianity in Britain to some epoch midway
between a certain great national convulsion, and the
abovementioned rise ; and it has been thought that, by
the former of these critical events, St. Gildas intends the
victory obtained over Caractacus by the Emperor Clau-
dius, in the year of our Lord 51 ; 5 as a result of which
the British king was taken captive, and carried, with
his family and retinue, to Rome. Concurrent with this
account of St. Gildas are many ancient traditions which,
together with such other proofs as the case admits, seem
to make it highly probable, that the introduction of
Christianity into Britain was nearly contemporaneous
4 S. Gildas de Excid. Brit. 8, compared with 6 and 7.
5 Cf. Bp. Burgess' Tracts on the British Church.
THE BRITISH CHURCH. [CH.
with the defeat of Caractacus, and owing to circum-
stances which sprang out of that event.
Among the captives who where led to Rome in the
train <>f the British king, is said to have been one
Claudia Uuffina, a virgin, and, as some suppose, daughter
of Caractacus, who was forced to take the name of
Claudia, as was not unusualj in compliment to her
imperial master. It is related, that this Claudia, while
at Rome, became the wife of Pudens, a Senator, with
whom St. Peter is said to have lodged, on his first arrival
in the City. A certain Claudia, the wife of Pudens, is
twice celebrated for her beauty and accomplishments
}>v the poet Martial. 6 Again, among the salutations in
>t. Paul's second Epistle to Timothy, written from Rome,
we read, " Eubulus greeteth thee, and Pudens, and Linus,
and Chi mini. '"^ Hence it has been supposed, and with
much apparent probability, that Claudia who has a place
in British story became, while at Rome, the disciple of
the Blessed Apostles, SS. Peter and Paul, and, in-
terceding with them in behalf of her native country,
became the means of its conversion. If St. Grildas be
rightly understood to refer that event to some period
between A.D. 51, and A.D. Gl, his account will appear
to corroborate, in a remarkable manner, the tradition
which fixes upon the residence of Caractacus at Rome
U the first occasion of a religious intercourse between
that city and Britain. For the year 58, when some
members of the family of the British king returned
li<me, is the precise date assigned by Baronius for St.
Paul's arrival at Rome, and for St. Peter's journey into
\YrMrrn Europe.
Tin- names of both those great Apostles are associated
13 Mart. lib. 11, cp. 54, and lib. 4, ep. 13. 7 2 Tim. iv. 21.
I.] ITS FIRST TEACHEES. 7
by divines and antiquaries with the earliest annals of
the British Church. That St. Paul visited Britain is
very generally asserted, both by Catholic and Protest-
ant authorities ; though it must be acknowledged that
the written testimony in favour of this tradition is
anything but conclusive. It is certain, indeed, from
the accounts of early writers, that the Apostle of the
Gentiles penetrated to the "boundary of the West ;" 8
but some have considered this expression to be satisfied
by the fact of his visit to Spain, of which he speaks
in his Epistle to the Eomans. The historical evidence for
St. Peter's Apostolic journey to Britain is scantier still,
consisting chiefly in a passage quoted by Metaphrastes
(a writer of the tenth century, of whose authority
Baronius speaks slightingly) from Eusebius, and which
is not found in the extant works of that author. Yet
it has undoubtedly been long received as a pious opinion
by the Church at large, as we learn from some often
quoted words of St. Innocent 1.9, that St. Peter was
instrumental in the conversion of the West generally.
And this sort of argument, although it ought to be
kept quite distinct from documentary and historical
proof, and will form no substitute for such proof with
those who stipulate for something like legal accuracy
in inquiries of this nature, will not be without its effect
upon devout minds, accustomed to rest in the thought
8 'E^t ro rig/act, ry$ !)uiTtu$.
9 Quis enim nesciat, aut non advertat, id quod a Principe Apostolo-
rum Petro Romanae ecclesiae traditum est, ac mine usque custoditur,
ab omnibus debere servari, nee superduci, aut interduci aliquid quod
auctoritatem non liabeat, aut aliunde accipere videatur exemplum ?
praesertim cum sit manifestum, in omnem Italiam, Gallias, Hispanias,
Africam atque Siciliam, et insulas interjacentes, nullum instituisse Ec-
clesias nisi eos quos venerabilis Apostolus Petrus aut ejus successo-
res constituerunt sacerdotes ? &c. (Epistola Innocentii ad Decentium.
THE BRITISH CHURCH. [CH.
of God's watchful guardianship over His Church. The
tradition of St. Peter's immediate, or intimate, connexion,
with tin- .Brit Mi Church, has been combated almost
universally by Protestant writers ; indeed, it is much to
!>< laiiu -ntrd. that this and other like questions of fact
shmild too often have been forced out of their proper
department as mere subjects of history, and invested
with a grave theological importance which does not
surely belong to them. In the present instance, it
is impossible not to feel, with all the respect undoubt-
edly due to the names of those who have taken part
on both sides of this controversy, that the historical
testimony to the fact of St. Peter's Apostolical visit to
Britain has been as unduly pressed by writers on the
affirmative side, as what may be called the moral and
theological proof of it has been commonly undervalued
on the other. It ought, however, to be mentioned,
both to the credit of the particular writer himself, and
as important to the fact in dispute, that a learned and
zealous Protestant, Dr. Hales, considers the visit of St.
Peter to Britain to furnish the most satisfactory of all
clues to the solution of an intricate chronological
problem. 1
Three other members of the Sacred College, besides
8t Peter, are said by some to have preached the Gospel
in Britain ; viz. : St. James the Greater, St. Philip, and
Bibliothecu Patrum Vet. torn. viii. p. 586. Ed. Venet. 1772.) This
Irttrr is dated 19 March, 416.
top Stillinirfleet contends (Or. Sac. lib. 3), that this list does not
include Britain; yet thr.r pages farther on, in order to show that
British BUhops were at the Council of Sardica, he proves that Britain
.1 rarly times comprehended under the name of Gaul. See the
1 YitU- Dr. JI;,k-s' s Analysis of Sacred Chronology, vol. ii. pt. 10.
I.] ITS FIRST TEACHERS. 9
St. Simon Zelotes ; but without a shadow, as far as ap-
pears, even of plausibility. St. Simon is reported to have
come to this country, after preaching the Faith in Mau-
ritania, and other parts of Africa. But it seems very
doubtful whether St. Simon preached even in Africa,
for his mission was to the East ; and, if he did, he
certainly returned into the East ; for all the ancient
Martyrologies place his martyrdom in Persia. And, as
to St. James the Greater, and St. Philip, both of these
Apostles suffered martyrdom too early to have been
concerned in the foundation of the British Church ; St.
James in 43, or 44, and St. Philip ten years only after-
wards. Therefore, as the learned Archbishop Ussher
observes, the question lies, in fact, between St. Peter
and St. Paul. St. Peter is believed to have come to Bri-
tain, A.D. 60 ; St. Paul, to have set out on his Western
journey in the following year, and to have reached
Britain about A.D. 62. 2
Other holy men who are thought to have visited our
island in the Apostolic age, are St. Joseph of Arim^thsea,
and St. Aristobulus, of whom the latter is said, but
apparently upon very slender grounds, to have been
consecrated by St. Paul to the first British bishopric.
The tradition which brings St. Joseph of Arimathaea to
Britain about the year of our Lord (according to Baro-
nius) 63, is defended by the Protestant archbishops,
Ussher and Parker, though by the latter in a spirit
of very marked hostility to the special prerogatives of
St. Peter. St, Joseph of Arimathsea was venerated in
the ancient English Church as the founder, and first
abbot, of the celebrated Monastery of Avallonia, after-
wards Glastonbury, where are still to be seen the ruins
2 Alford,-Annales, ad aim.
10 THE r.Rrrisii rumen. [on.
nf a chapel dedicated to Almighty God under his tute-
airaiii. if wo are to go by external, docu-
mentary, and generally available proof, it must be
acknowledged that Mr. Collier, in his Ecclesiastical
History, 3 has made out a strong case against the tra-
dition in question. Yet even after the credit of title-
dvdx and charters has been shaken, is it easy for rever-
ent minds to conceive that such a belief, if unfounded,
would have been allowed to grow up, and entwine
it-elf, as it were, round the hearts of men, bound toge-
ther by the most solemn obligations, and for the most
sacred objects, and that for successive generations, so as
to enter into their formal proceedings and be expressed
in their most durable monuments 1 It is surely one
tiling to admit that such a tradition is not proveablej
and quite another to say that it is worthless. Upon
what evidence do we put faith in the existence of St.
George, the Patron of England ? Upon such, assuredly,
as an acute critic or skilful pleader might easily scatter
to the winds ; the belief of prejudiced or credulous wit-
nesses, the unwritten record of empty pageants and
bauble decorations. On the side of scepticism might be
exhibited a powerful array of suspicious legends and
exploded acts. Yet after all, what Catholic is there but
would count it a profaneness to question the existence
<>i St. George ] Grounds of this kind, however, are evi-
dently quite distinct from external, tangible, argument-
ative, proof. 4
From the testimony of St. Gildas we learn, that
3 Hook i. cent. 1.
4 < >f course the instance is meant as an illustration merely, not a
parallel. It is not denied that every Catholic has stronger reason for
believing i n t l u - existence of St. (.Jcorge than in the visit of St. Joseph
of Arimatluca to Britain.
I.] ITS FIRST TEACHERS. 11
Christianity, though early established in Britain, made
comparatively little progress among the inhabitants till
it received a new impulse in the persecution under
Diocletian. 5 But while St. Grildas distinctly attests the
fact that Christianity, when once brought into Britain
maintained its ground without interruption, the records
of its progress during the first and greater part of the
second century are extremely meagre and unsatisfactory.
Even tradition itself is silent upon the annals of this
period, except in two particulars ; the one, a mission
to Pope Clement, in the year 100, upon liturgical
questions ; the other, an accession to the Church of
Britain, about forty years later, of certain doctors and
scholars of Granta.
5 " Quae licet ab incolis tepide suscepta sint, apud quosdam tamen
intcgre, et apud alios minus, usque ad persecutionem Diocletiani
tyranni novennera." De Excid. Brit. 9.
THE BRITISH CHURCH. [CH.
CHAPTER II.
THE BRITISH CHURCH. KIXG LUCIUS.
A. D. 182 A. D. 192.
THE second great epoch in British Church History is
the conversion of king Lucius, which, though the date
has been much canvassed, is supposed by competent
authorities to have taken place about A. D. 182. The
truth of this circumstance undoubtedly rests upon a
firmer basis of evidence than that of some among the
foregoing details, and it finds a remarkable concurrence
of authority, Protestant as well as Catholic, in its favour.
The fact, as related by St. Bede the Venerable, was as
follows : " In the 156th 1 year from our Lord's Incar-
nation, Marcus Antoninus Verus, the fourteenth in suc-
cession from Augustus, attained the first power in con-
junction with his brother, Aurelius Commodus, in whose
time, Eleutherius, a holy man, being vested with the
pontificate of the Roman Church, Lucius, king of
Britain, sent him a letter, praying to be made a
Christian by an act of his authority ; the object of
which pious entreaty he shortly afterwards obtained ;
and the Britons, having received the Faith, kept it whole
and undefiled, and in peace and quiet, till the times of
Diocletian the Emperor." 2
This, as we have already said, is the first mention
which St. Bede makes of Christianity in Britain. Taken,
however, with the account of St. Gildas, beforementioned,
1 It rnu^t bo ivinrmbrred that St. Bede's chronology is often inaccurate.
2 S. Bede, Hist. Eccl. lib. i. c. 4.
II.] KING LUCIUS. 13
his words cannot be thought to imply more than what
is universally acknowledged, that the Faith was not
openly embraced by the British nation till the days of
Lucius.
From sources of greater or less authenticity, we learn
that Lucius, though he did not determine upon pro-
fessing Christianity till towards the close of his life,
was no stranger to it in his earlier years. The instru-
ment of his early religious convictions is said by some
to have been St. Timothy, one of the four sainted child-
ren of SS. Pudens and Claudia. 3 A more credible tra-
dition records, that Lucius obtained the rudiments of
the Christian faith through the teaching of St. Elvanus,
whom some authors suppose to have been one of the
aforementioned converts of Granta ; but who is gene-
rally said to have been a brother of the Monastery of
Avallonia. But from whomsoever the good king Lucius
derived his first knowledge of the Christian religion,
certain it is, that he could not be persuaded to avow
it till towards the close of his life, when he had been
king nearly sixty years. Several causes are said to have
put him upon seeking the grace of eternal life through
the Sacraments of the Church. He had now enjoyed
ample means of observing the fruits of the Christian
religion in the holy lives of its professors. He was no
stranger to the doctrine of a Judgement to come, and
knew that he must shortly be called away to account
for his use of the opportunities vouchsafed him. But
the more immediate and constraining motive, under
Divine Providence, of his happy resolution, appears to
3 The others were, his brother, St. Novatus, and his sisters SS.
Praxedes and Pudentiana, Virgins. See Cressy, Hist, of the Church
of Brittany.
14 THE BRITISH CHURCH. [CH.
have been the great and signal deliverance of the
Emperor Marcus Aurelius and all his army by the
prayers of the Christian soldiery, the news of which
merciful interposition had lately come to Britain, and
had produced a powerful impression upon the king's
mind ; who, being now fully satisfied in his heart of the
Divine original and wonderful effects of that holy creed
towards which he had been long favourably disposed,
sent for his faithful counsellor Elvanus, and made him
a party to his intention of entreating instant admission
into the fold of Christ. Desiring, also, to obtain an
authoritative rule for the better government of the
Church in his kingdom, he resolved upon seeking coun-
sel in his difficulty, and the See of Rome was the quarter
to which his thoughts instinctively turned. He chose,
as his representatives in this most important mission,
Elvanus, and another clergyman named Medwinus, of
the province of the Belgae. 4 These sacred ambassadors
were commissioned to prefer a request that the holy
Father, Eleutherius, in whom the Roman pontificate
was then vested, would send to Britain persons duly
qualified and authorized to instruct the king and his
subjects, and to celebrate, and administer to them, the
Divine Mysteries. He also desired to be furnished with
rules for the government of the British Church, and, as
some add, with a transcript of the famous Roman laws, to
serve as the basis of a national code. Eleutherius was
a prelate of great piety and virtue, as is sufficiently
shewn by the place which his name holds in the memory
and affections of the Church. 5 He succeeded St. Soter
4 Comprising the present counties of Hants, Wilts, and Somerset.
5 He is mentioned in the Calendar on May 26, St. Augustine of
Canterbury's day.
II.] KING LUCIUS. 15
in the Supreme Pontificate in 176, and presided over the
Church when it was grievously harassed by the blasphem-
ous doctrine of the Montanists. Some suppose that, in the
earlier and less dangerous stages of this heresy, the good
Pope Eleutherius was led to give it some sort of counte-
nance ; but this is denied by others, who ascribe this
act of favour not to St. Eleutherius, but to his successor,
Victor. At all events, whether the judgement were
given by St. Eleutherius or by another, it was revoked
upon fuller information.
Different conjectures have been thrown out by learned
ecclesiastical antiquaries, upon the probable motives by
which king Lucius was actuated in resorting to Rome
for the Sacraments of the Church, and for instruction in
Christian doctrine ; a circumstance rendered the more
worthy of remark by the fame of the great St. Irenseus,
at that time Bishop of Lyons, through, or near, which
city the messengers of Lucius must have passed on their
way to Rome. There can be no doubt that, in learning
and acquirements, St. Eleutherius, holy man as he was,
fell infinitely short of this famous Bishop, who is said
by an ancient father, to have been " the most accurate
expositor of doctrine in his day." Indeed, there appears
absolutely no reason whatever, why king Lucius should
have gone farther for advice, which he might have
obtained nearer, unless it were that he, or rather the
British Church of his time, acknowledged the See of
Rome, even at that early age, and when the great spirit-
ual Monarchy of which it afterwards became the centre,
was not as yet fully developed, or perfectly organized, as
invested with some special prerogatives of rank and
authority. And, had the messengers of Lucius paused
on their way to consult the great Bishop of Lyons,
certainly he would have given them no other advice
16 THE BRITISH </IH IK'Il. [CH.
than that which he has left on record, when he says,
" To the Roman Church, by reason of its more powerful
principality, it is necessary that every Church, that is
to say, the faithful in every place, should have recourse, 6
since in it the universal tradition received from the
Apostles is safely preserved." 7
The good Pope Eleutherius was in raptures of joy on
receiving the message of the British king, and caused
(Jlnr'nt in r./w/x/x to be chanted in commemoration of the
happy event. 8 He commissioned two holy Bishops, by
name Fugatius and Damianus, to accompany SS. Elva-
nus and Medwinus back to Britain ; and it is added by
some writers, that he raised St. Elvanus himself to the
Episcopal dignity. He is related, likewise, to have sent
the necessary instructions for the ordering of the British
Church, but to have declined complying with the king's
request for a copy of the Roman laws, on the ground
that they had no direct bearing upon Christian institu-
tions.
\Yhen the holy legates arrived in Britain, the king,
queen, and all their household, were immediately baptized.
The name of the queen has not come down to us \ but a
sister of Lucius, called Emerita, is said to have attained
the honours of a Saint.
SS. Fugatius and Damianus, having preached the
Word of Life to the king and his family, next pro-
ceeded into the several parts of Britain. At the end of
three years, they returned to Rome, reported the good
success of their mission, and obtained from the holy
Father a confirmation of their acts. They afterwards
returned to Britain, and renewed their Apostolic travels,
6 Convenire. 7 S. Iren. cont. litres, lib. iii. c. 3.
8 See Ussher's Primord. Eccl. 10.
II.] KING LUCIUS. 17
in the course of which they are said to have visited the
Isle of Avallonia, the seat of the famous Monastery of
Glastonbury, which had then become a covert for wild
beasts. 9 There they discovered, by Divine guidance, the
ancient oratory dedicated to our Lord, in honour of His
Blessed Mother, in which they continually celebrated
the Divine praises. It is also related of the same holy
men, that they founded at Avallonia two other chapels,
one under the title of the Blessed Apostles SS. Peter and
Paul, the other under that of St. Michael the Archangel.
It is added, that they established a succession of twelve
devout persons, in memory of the twelve companions of
St. Joseph. Whether they died at Avallonia is doubtful ;
but a very authentic tradition records that they con-
tinued there nine years. Harpsfield places the scene of
their deaths in South Wales, near the city of Llandaff,
where a church was afterwards built under their patron-
age. Their names occur on May 24 in the English Mar-
ty rologies, where they are said to have died in the year
191. About the same time, king Lucius was called
away from an earthly to a heavenly crown ; having oc-
cupied, according to a very ancient belief, some of the
latter years of his life in spreading the Christian faith
among the nations of Germany and Switzerland.
It cannot be doubted, that the conversion of this good
king, St. Lucius, was the beginning of a new era in the
Church of Britain, and that very many of his subjects
were moved by his example to embrace the Faith. It
is equally certain, that the Lord raised up many devoted
servants to work in this promising field of ministerial
labour; true though it also is, that their memorial has
utterly perished. Of the period between the death of king
9 Capgrave in Vita S. Josephi.
18 THE BRITISH CHURCH. [CH.
Lucius and the martyrdom of St. Alban, there is all but
a total dearth of trustworthy information ; but we gather
from the testimony of foreign writers, as well as from
that of our own sainted historians Gildas and Bede, that
the Church of Britain was in a flourishing state during
this interval, consisting of almost a century. And now
the British Church is said to have been placed under the
government of twenty-eight Bishops, and three Metro-
politans, the chief see being founded in London. Bishop
Stillingfleet, indeed, gives reasons which appear satis-
factory, for believing that there was a succession of
Bishops in the British Church from the first, though he
considers that, under king Lucius, steps were taken for
the increase and consolidation of the Episcopate. If
there were Bishops in Britain when St. Lucius sent his
embassy to Rome, it is all the more remarkable that he
should have resorted to a foreign quarter for aid and
counsel. And even if there were no Bishops in this
country, he need not, as we have seen, have gone so far
as Rome to supply the want. Let us but be content to
follow the Church of all ages in ascribing a right of pre-
cedence to the See of the Apostles, and the conduct of
king Lucius becomes perfectly intelligible, without the
necessity of supposing any flaw in the succession of the
ancient British Episcopate, or involving any disparage-
ment of the claims of other European prelates.
III.] THE BRITISH CHURCH. 19
CHAPTER III.
THE BRITISH CHURCH. ST. ALBAN AND THE FRUITS OF
HIS MARTYRDOM.
A.D. 192 A.D. 359.
AFTER king Lucius, we lose sight of the stream of
British Church history for nearly a century, when it
reappears in the age of St. Alban and his companions,
and then flows on more evenly and steadily till the
time of the Saxon invasion. And, just as the reappear-
ance of a stream at intervals is a proof that its course has
been all the while continuous, though hidden, do passages
in the history of the ancient British Church, such as the
Martyrdom of St. Alban, betoken the presence of a real,
though latent, faith, in the ages preceding. The heroic
virtue of Alban and Amphibalus, Aaron and Julius, and
of those " very many others, whose souls, in the midst of
divers tortures and unprecedented mangling of the limbs,
were removed in the very crisis of their agony to the
joys of the supernal city," 1 was no sudden outbreak of
enthusiasm, no mere happy coincidence, or insulated
phenomenon, but had its origin in causes of long stand-
ing and wide prevalence, and so sheds a lustre over the
period which matured it, as well as over that in which it
was displayed.
Our own island, moreover, appears to have enjoyed a
profound rest, under the earlier of the persecutions by
1 S. Bede, lib. i. c. 7.
THE BRITISH CHURCH. [CH.
which other Churches within the boundaries of the
Roman Kinpiru were visited and desolated. At length,
in the reign of Diocletian and his colleague Maximian,
it fell under the stroke of heathen rage and malice.
The last and fiercest of the onslaughts, which during
ten years deluged Christendom with blood, penetrated
even into Britain; where, in the words of the holy
Gildas, " God, who wills all men to be saved, and calls
sinners as well as those that account themselves righte-
ous, was pleased to magnify His mercy among us; and,
of His own free goodness, to kindle in this island the
brightest of luminaries, even His holy Martyrs; whose
places of sepulture and of suffering, had not our citizens
for the sins of our nation been robbed of them by the
mournful incursion of barbarians, would inspire no little
ardour of Divine love into the minds of all beholders ; I
speak of St. Alban of Verulam, Aaron and Julius, of the
city of the Legions,' 2 and the rest, of either sex, who, in
divers places, maintained their ground in Christ's battle
with consummate magnanimity." 3
The Christian heroism of these blessed servants and
soldiers of Christ, and especially of our glorious Proto-
nmrtyr, might well form the subject of distinct biogra-
phies. It will be sufficient in this place to give a mere
outline of its principal features.
Alban was converted to the Christian faith by
Amphibalus, a clergyman, whom he had sheltered from
hi- persecutors. Information having been given to the
authorities as to the place where Amphibalus lay con-
cealed, search was made for him in Alban's house ; upon
which his host, putting on his military cloak, submitted to
be seized by the officers in his stead. When brought be-
2 Caerleon on the Usk. 3 S. Gildas de Excid. Br. 10.
III.] ST. ALBAN, AND THE FRUITS OF HIS MARTYRDOM. 21
fore the judge, who happened to be engaged in an idola-
trous festival, St. Alban was first asked to join in the
heathen worship, and, upon his refusal, was immediately
tortured with scourges, and afterwards beheaded. Two
miracles, according to St. Bede, were vouchsafed at the
time of his death ; the former of which led to the con-
version of a person named Heraclius, who had been en-
gaged to perform the office of his executioner; and an-
other, who was found ready for the same unholy work,
was instantaneously struck with blindness, his eyes fall-
ing to the ground at the same moment with the head of
his victim. Many of the spectators, according to Harps-
field, were brought over to the faith on the spot by the
sight of the holy Martyr's constancy, and of the miracles
which accompanied his sufferings; and, following St.
Amphibalus, St. Alban's guest and spiritual father, into
Wales, received the Sacrament of Regeneration at his
hands. Shortly afterwards, and during the same per-
secution, St. Amphibalus suffered martyrdom at Red-
bourne, not far from St. Alban's; and SS. Aaron and
Julius, at Caerleon on the Usk. There were also, ac-
cording to St. Grildas and St. Bede, many other cases of
martyrdom at the same time. The survivors took shel-
ter in " deserts and caves of the earth." For seven
years the persecution raged with unabated fury ; many
churches were levelled with the ground, and others con-
verted into heathen temples. Among those who, about
this time, received the crown of martyrdom, or confessor-
ship, were St. Stephanus, and St. Augulus, successive
Bishops of London.
Peace was at length restored to the Church under
Constantius, who, in conjunction with Galerius, assumed
the imperial purple when Diocletian and Maximian ab-
dicated. Constantius, to whom the administration of
'2 '2 THE BRITISH CHURCH. [CH.
Britain had been specially 4 entrusted during the pre-
ceding reign, continued his charge under a new title,
and with independent authority. The British Church
speedily felt the effects of his clemency ; the Christians
issued 5 from their retreats; the churches were rebuilt ;
chantries erected in honour of the Martyrs; festivals
restored, with the solemn rites of worship; and the
voice of joy and gladness once more heard throughout
the land. Constantius died at York, fifteen months
after his succession to the empire, in the year 306.
The British Church was certainly represented at the
Council of Aries in 314, and some consider, at that of
Nica?a also, eleven years afterwards, though this appears
very doubtful. The names of the British Bishops 'at
Aries were Eborius, Restitutus, and Adelfius ; of whom
Eborius and Restitutus filled the thrones respectively,
of York and London. The see of Adelfius is more ques-
tionable ; by most it is considered to have been Colches-
ter, or rather Maldon; but Bishop Stillingfleet decides
in favour of Caerleon, while other learned writers in-
cline, and with much apparent reason, to Lincoln.
At the Council of Aries, it was determined that Easter
should be kept on the same day in all parts of the
Church. This canon was directed against such Orientals
as followed the Quartodeciman rule. 6 It was also re-
solved to degrade those of the clergy who had surrendered
to heathens, during persecution, any of the sacred books
belonging to churches, or of the vessels employed in the
" offering" of the Holy Sacrifice. Other canons, chiefly
4 Gibbon, c. xiii.
5 S. Gildas de Excid. Brit. 13 ; and S. Bede, H. E. lib. i. c. 8.
6 The question about keeping Easter which afterwards arose in
Britain, and which shall be noticed in its place, appears to have been
of slighter importance.
III.] ST. ALBAN, AND THE FRUITS OF HIS MARTYRDOM. 23
on points of discipline, were passed; and the decrees in
general were forwarded to St. Sylvester, the reigning
Pope, to be circulated by him throughout the Church. 7
At the disastrous Council of Ariminum, in 359, the
British Bishops were betrayed with the rest into signing
the heretical Confession. On this occasion we are told
that the Arian Emperor Constantius offered to supply
the assembled prelates with lodgings and entertainment
at the public expense, but none of them could be found
to accept the suspicious boon, except the three from
Britain, who, being too poor to provide for themselves
at their own charges, and too independent to lay them-
selves under an obligation to the other Bishops, fell in
with the Emperor's proposal, and were accordingly
maintained out of the imperial exchequer.
An ancient author commends the Bishops of Britain
for refusing to be burthensome to their brother prelates ;
but it is rather to be feared, observes Bishop Stilling-
fleet, " that the Emperor's kindness was a snare to their
consciences." On the whole, there seems reason to ap-
prehend that the British Church suffered, with others,
from the Arian infection, though whether its declension
into heresy were the cause, or the effect, of the unhappy
step taken by its representatives at Ariminum, is more
questionable. To the fact of this corruption, however,
whether greater or less, and whensoever, or wheresoever,
originating, the testimony of St. Bede is but too ex-
plicit. 8
7 The words used in addressing the Pope, were as follows:
Placuit etiam antequam a te, qui majores diceceses tenes, per te
potissimum omnibus insinuari.
8 Ariana vesania, corrupto orbe toto, hanc etiam insulam extra
orbem tarn longe remotam veneno sui infecit erroris, et, hac quasi via
pestilentiae trans oceanum patefacta, non mora, omnis se lues ha3reseos
cujusque, insulae, novi semper aliquid audire gaudenti, et nihil certi
firmiter obtinenti, infudit. H. E. lib. i. c. 8.
24 THE BRITISH CHURCH. [CH.
We have seen that the British Bishops were too poor
to maintain themselves at Ariminum. The necessitous
condition of their Church at this time, might have
arisen from the combined effects of persecution and in-
ternal wars ; the former had probably deprived the
Church of her lands and stated revenues, while the
latter had impoverished the country, and so tended to
lessen the amount of the people's offerings. It is said
that king Lucius made over to the Church the lands
which had formerly belonged to the heathen temples,
and bestowed upon it many gifts and privileges besides.
If so, it is evident that great losses must have been
sustained before the Council of Ariminum, where the
Bishops of Britain were found unequal to a charge com-
monly borne by the different Churches of Christendom,
in behalf of their representatives at General Councils.
And for these, the combined operation of the persecution
under Diocletian, and of the harassing wars with the
Scots and Picts, will sufficiently account.
IV.] VISITS OF ST. GERMANUS. 25
CHAPTER IV.
THE BRITISH CHURCH. VISITS OF ST. GERMANUS.
A.D. 359 A.D. 520.
IN the fifth century, the British Church received
much damage from the inroads of the Pelagian heresy.
Some have inferred from St. Bede's words, that Pelagius
himself, after his condemnation at Rome, returned to
Britain, of which he was a native, and poisoned the
Church with his baneful doctrine. But the more im-
mediate author of the mischief in our own island ap-
pears to have been not Pelagius, but Agricola, son of
Severianus, a Bishop, 1 who had fallen into the heresy.
This Agricola came over from Gaul about the year 425,
and laboured, among others, 2 to corrupt the Church in
this country. His attempt was, as it seems, but too
successful in many quarters ; at length, the Bishops
of Britain resolved upon laying their grievances before
their brethren in Gaul, and asking for help. The
spiritual necessities of our island were likewise, at
this time, an object of anxious interest to Pope St.
Celestine, who had lately sent SS. Patrick and Pal-
ladius to preach the Gospel in Ireland, and in the
northern parts of Britain. On hearing from Palladius,
of the danger which threatened the southern provinces
of the island from the progress of Pelagianism, the holy
Pontiff was no less eager to counteract the spread of the
1 S. Bede, lib. i. c. 17. 2 Vide Stillingfleet, Orig. Brit. c. 4.
2G THE BRITISH CHUECH. [CH.
heretical leaven than he had before shewn himself to
reclaim the pagan inhabitants of the island from ido-
latry and superstition. St. Celestine is accordingly
believed, upon the authority of a contemporary histo-
rian, to have conferred with the Bishops of Gaul upon
the state of the British Church, and to have sanctioned
their choice of St. Germanus, Bishop of Auxerre, as a
proper person to go to its relief. 3 St. Germanus was
unanimously selected for this important charge at a
Council summoned in Gaul upon receipt of the letters
from Britain, to which he was soon after sent in com-
pany with St. Lupus, Bishop of Troyes. 4
The two holy prelates embarked in the winter sea-
son, and were soon overtaken by a violent storm, raised,
says the religious historian, by the malice of evil spirits,
to defeat the object upon which the blessed Mission-
aries were bent. All efforts to save the vessel became
fruitless; and no resource was left but in prayer. It
so happened, that, at the moment of greatest danger,
St. Germanus was asleep. When all was now given up
for lost, St. Lupus and the whole crew betook themselves
to the older Bishop, and besought his intercessions ;
upon which St. Germanus proceeded to dip his hand
in holy water, 5 and sprinkled it upon the waves in the
name of the Adorable Trinity ; at the same time in-
viting his colleague and the whole ship's company to
join him in prayer. In an instant all were on their
knees, and a prayer for mercy rose to Heaven as the
voice of a single man. The sky grew bright, and the
3 Agricola Pelagianus, Severiani Episcopi Pelagian! films, Ecclesias
Britanniae dograatis sui insinuatione corrupit. Sed ad actionem Pal-
ladii Diaconi Papa Celestinus Germanura Autissiodorensem Episcopum
vice sua mittit, et disturbatis haereticis, Britannos ad Catholicam fidem
redigit. Prosperi Chronicon. 4 S. Bede, lib. i. c. 17.
5 Another account says oil. Constantius, 46.
IV.] VISITS OF ST. GERM ANUS. 27
sea calm; favourable winds sprang up, and in a short
time the ship was safe in the British port.
The Bishops were met, on landing, by a vast con-
course of people, and the whole island was speedily
filled with the rumour of their preaching, miracles, and
sanctity. It w r as usual, in those days of the Church,
under circumstances of emergency, (such, for instance,
as the prevalence of idolatry or heresy,) to proclaim
God's Truth, not within the walls of churches only,
but in the fields and highways. Such a course is no
otherwise irregular, than as it is adopted (as has com-
monly been the case in Protestant times and countries)
without, or against, authority. In the instance to which
we are now referring, the necessity was undoubtedly
urgent; and, as the field or street preachers were here
Bishops, acting, as it would seem, under the sanction of
the Pope, no charge of insubordination could possibly
be made good against them. As far, too, as success is
a criterion of good preaching, that of SS. Germanus
and Lupus is proved to have been of the highest order ;
for we are told that it tended everywhere to root the
Catholics in their belief, and to shame the misguided
out of their errors. The people, indeed, counted these
wonderful strangers as Apostles; so glorious was their
testimony, so gracious their deportment, and so com-
manding the authority with which they spoke. Their
learning added weight, and their sanctity persuasiveness,
to all they said ; insomuch that the whole country
seemed to be brought round with incredible rapidity to
the doctrine of their discourses.
In the mean time, the heretical opponents of Divine
Grace saw with evident vexation, that their day was
gone by. At first, they withdrew from public obser-
vation, and mourned in secret the loss of their influence,
28 THE BRITISH CHURCH. [CH.
and the dropping off of their followers ; presently, how-
ever, growing desperate, they resolved upon inviting
the Catholics to a public discussion. The place of meet-
ing was to be, of all others, Verulam, where, no long
time before, holy Alban had won the crown of Martyr-
dom, and which was afterwards called by his name.
This sacred spot was now to become the scene of a new
victory, in which the enemies of the Cross of Christ were
not to be, as before, vanquished silently and by patience,
but openly and publicly confounded as by a voice from
Heaven. When the time of meeting had come, the
heretics were seen advancing to the ground, attended
by a long train of persons in costly habits ; for their
success appears to have been chiefly among the rich.
They were evidently bent upon making a grand display ;
they seemed to feel that their popularity had declined
from the moment that SS. Germanus and Lupus had set
foot in this country j and now they rallied all their
forces and put forth their best appearance, with the view
of shewing the world that they were not disheartened.
They do not seem to have arrived at once, or even speedily,
at this determination ; however, in the end, the more
striking and adventurous policy was preferred. An
immense crowd was collected at the place of meeting,
including a great number of women and children, as
well as men, all of whom, says St. Bede, looked upon
themselves not merely as parties who had a deep in-
terest in the issue of the conference (as in truth they
had), but as in some sort umpires in the trial. There
was, as may be supposed, a very marked difference between
the spirit witli which the two sides entered upon the
contest ; and this difference was indicated by the very
appearance which they severally presented to the eye.
As widely, observes St. Bede, as Divine Faith is removed
IV.] VISITS OF ST. GERMANUS. 29
from human presumption, and retiring piety from for-
ward and clamorous ostentation, did the partizans of
Pelagius differ from the disciples of Christ. In truth
it must have been a very striking sight; and, in the
present advancing state of Catholic art amongst us, it
is not too much to hope that the " Conference of Ye-
rulam" may come to be selected as an appropriate sub-
ject for some great national picture. The reader will
probably ere this have formed a mental comparison, or
contrast, between the scene now attempted to be set
before him, and one in which the prophet Elijah bore
a conspicuous part. It was not, indeed, a question
now, as then, between GOD and Baal ; yet can it be
so certainly pronounced that it was not one between
CHRIST and Antichrist ? For, that Pelagianism was at
least one palpable form of the power which sets up self
against God, will hardly be denied by any religious
person. But to proceed. The Pelagians, by mutual
agreement, were the first speakers ; but it soon appeared
that they had scarcely anything to say in defence of
their tenets ; still they spoke, and that at great length ;
till, at last, the audience were quite tired out by the mul-
titude of their pompous but empty words. Scripture was
of course their only standard of appeal ; and what could
be so hopeless as the attempt to prove from Scripture, that
fallen man can originate good in himself? At length
they stopped, and the Bishops rose, one after the other,
to reply. St. Germanus was found, to the surprise
of his opponents as well as of the audience, to have
a vast fund of words at his command ; he had studied
eloquence and the civil law at Borne, and in his youth had
actually pleaded causes in court. His Scripture proofs
of the Catholic doctrine were absolutely overwhelming ;
he enforced them, too, as his knowledge and great
30 THE BRITISH CHURCH. [CH.
erudition enabled him, by arguments of a truly Divine
wisdom, and illustrated them by the testimony of eccle-
siastical authorities. The Catholic speakers were not
afraid of making the most downright, and, to their oppo-
nents, inconvenient and oppressive statements ; 6 so great
was the power of their cause, so ample the resources
of evidence to which they could appeal in support of it.
The heretics were thus effectually put down ; the people
testified their joy by loud acclamations, and were de-
terred by nothing but the venerable presence of the
Bishops, and a regard to the sanctity of the place, and
the solemnity of the occasion, from laying violent hands
upon the defeated party. At the close of the conference,
a certain tribune and his wife presented themselves before
the Bishops, entreating their prayers in behalf of a little
blind daughter, ten years of age. The Bishops, with the
view of convicting their opponents upon their own ac-
knowledgment, referred them to the Pelagians ; but they,
conscience-stricken and utterly dispirited, declared their
inability to give any help, and referred them back to the
Bishops. The latter then offered a short prayer, and St.
Germanus made a solemn invocation of the Holy Trinity.
At the same moment, he took from his side a little case
of relics, which he was in the habit of wearing round his
neck, and, in the presence of all, applied it to the eyes of
the little girl, whose sight was immediately restored. We
read in the Old Testament of a yet more amazing miracle
performed by contact with the relics of a Saint ; and who
will deny, that the confutation of Pelagius was " cause "
enough to warrant some special interposition of Divine
power ? However, it is safest, as well as most religious,
to leave in God's hands the determination of the reasons
6 Assertiones molestissiraas. S. Bcdc, lib. i. c. 17.
IV.] VISITS OP ST. GERMANUS. 31
which call for His supernatural interferences. In the
case before us, the miracle appears to have completely
(if it may be said with reverence) answered its end ; it
was regarded, for the time at least, as still more conclusive
of the question between the Catholics and the heretics
than the result of the previous debate. For, after that
day, continues the sainted historian, all liking for the
Pelagian tenets was thoroughly rooted out of every one's
mind ; and the doctrine of the Bishops was universally
followed with a holy eagerness.
Before quitting the neighbourhood of Verulam, the
prelates went on a visit to the tomb of St. Alban.
When they had reached the hallowed spot, St. Germanus
made a short prayer, and then called upon some of
the bystanders to open the tomb, in which he pro-
ceeded to deposit the precious relics of the Apostles
and Martyrs which he carried about him ; considering
it fit, according to the historian, that the bones of
Saints from different parts of the world, whose parity
of merit had raised them alike to Heaven, should rest
in a common sanctuary. Having duly disposed of
these inestimable treasures, St. Germanus gathered up
a portion of dust, upon which the traces of St. Alban's
blood were still visible, and carried it away to Auxerre,
where he built a Church to the honour of the Saint,
and deposited his relics near the altar.
The reader has already received a larger share of the
history of St. Germanus than is quite consistent with
the very general character of this introductory sketch ;
and yet the mighty reformation effected in our island,
under the guidance, and through the intercessions, of
this great prelate, is an incident in British ecclesiastical
story, too momentous to be lightly passed over, while
it is difficult to convey any suitable idea of it, without
:\'2 THE BRITISH CHURCH. [CH.
dwelling, at a disproportionate length, upon the per-
sonal history of the Saint who was the great agent in
promoting it.
Before leaving Britain, St. Germanus was called to
take part in a very different scene from that of the
Verulam Conference. Some years before the arrival of
Hengist and Horsa, in 449, the Saxons inhabiting the
coast between Denmark and the Rhine were in the habit
of making descents upon this island; and, while the
two Bishops of Gaul were in the country, joined with
the Picts, who occupied the northern parts of Britain,
in attacking the more southern provinces. So great
was the name which the holy Bishops had established
among the Britons, that their protection was at once
sought against the new enemy. Accordingly, they pro-
ceeded to the scene of action, where their presence in-
spired such confidence, that it seemed, says the historian,
like the sudden appearance of some vast and unlooked-
for reinforcement of troops. The Saints occupied them-
selves, during their stay in the camp, in endeavouring
to convert those of the army who were still idolaters,
and to introduce a reformation of life and manners
among such as professed the Christian faith. It hap-
pened to be Lent ; and a vast number of applications
were made to the Bishops for admission to the Sacra-
ment of Baptism at the approaching Easter. The sol-
diers, with the help of the Bishops, erected in the camp
a temporary church, made of green boughs twisted to-
gether, in which the catechumens were received, and
the festival celebrated with great devotion. The army
proceeded to battle "with the dew of Baptism," says
St. Hede, "fresh upon it;" strong in a hidden might,
though, to all appearance, small in numbers and weak
in resources. We have already seen how the early edu-
IV.] VISITS OF ST. GERMANUS. 33
cation of St. Grermanus favoured him in a former emer-
gency ; now we find him turning the experience of
other days to account in a different line. When
young, he had filled, under the Emperor Honorius, the
office of duke and commander-in-chief of his province.
St. Germanus was still in the prime of his years, when
circumstances forced him into this novel situation.
Upon information that the combined armies of the
Saxons and Picts were approaching, he at once resolved
upon putting himself at the head of the British forces.
Having led the troops into a narrow defile, he gave
orders to them to repeat after him, in one loud and
general shout, the word for which he was to give them
the signal. When the Saxons drew near, with all the
confidence of men secure of victory, the holy Bishops
pronounced, three successive times, the word ALLELUIA,
which was immediately taken up by the whole British
army, and chanted in universal chorus. The sound
was repeated and reverberated by the echo from the
mountains, and with such violence, that the rocks, and
even the very heavens themselves, seemed to tremble.
The barbarians, supposing that so loud a shout must
issue from an immense body of men, threw down their
arms in a panic and ran away in all directions. Many
were drowned in attempting to cross a rapid river which
intercepted their retreat. The Britons remained quiet
spectators of this strange scene ; masters of a spoil
surrendered without a struggle, and gainers of a victory
achieved without bloodshed. The Bishops especially
rejoiced that their new converts had been enabled to
save their country without even risk to the Christian
tempers of meekness and charity ; while all seemed
to feel that faith and prayer are the most serviceable
of arms, and Saints and Angels the most powerful of
D
34 THE BRITISH CHURCH. [CH.
allies. The scene of this memorable event is said to
have been a piece of ground, remarkable for the pictu-
resque beauty of its situation, in the neighbourhood
of Mold, in Flintshire, which is still called by the
name of " Maes Gannon," or German's Field. The holy
Bishops, having thus delivered Britain from a two-fold
scourge, war and heresy, returned home, " the blessing
of St. Alban," says the historian, " going along with
them," and, after a prosperous voyage, (which, in those
religious times, and especially in so early and rude a
state of the art of navigation, was always regarded as
an especial token of Divine protection,) were restored
to the anxious wishes, and ardent prayers, of their
respective flocks.
After some years, probably in 446 or 447, symptoms
of the Pelagian infection began once more to manifest
themselves in Britain, and the clergy unanimously deter-
mined upon again having recourse to the powerful aid
of St. Germanus. Though now almost seventy years
of age, the zealous Bishop lost no time in acceding to
their prayer, and, choosing as his associate Severus,
Archbishop of Treves, a prelate of great sanctity, and
a disciple of his former colleague, St. Lupus, repaired,
for the second time, to the shores of Britain. He had
no sooner landed, than he received a visit from Elafius,
a person of account in the island, bringing with him
a son, in the flower of his age, who was labouring under
a grievous bodily affliction. The nerves of one of his
limbs were paralyzed, and the flesh withered, so that
he could not put his foot to the ground. St. Germanus
told him to sit down, and, applying his hand to the
diseased limb, wrought an instantaneous cure. The
miracle, as in the former instance, produced a great
and immediate sensation, and disposed all hearers in
IV.] VISITS OF ST. GERM AN US. 35
favour of the wondrous Bishop. St. Germanus and his
companion had the comfort of finding that the great
body of the British Church was still staunch in the
Faith ; the error had made comparatively little progress,
and, by dint of wholesome admonitions to the wavering,
and strong measures adopted against the authors of the
mischief, who were, by the unanimous voice of the
Church, banished the island, the heresy was once more
extirpated. As the best security against its revival,
St. Germanus established schools in different places, es-
pecially two very famous in South Wales, which he en-
trusted to the care of SS. Iltutus and Dubricius.
Among the disciples of the former, were St. Gildas,
the historian, St. Malo, and St. Daniel, afterwards Bishop
of Bangor. The celebrated school of Bencor, in Flint-
shire, which will be mentioned in the sequel, was also
one of the fruits of St. Germanus' zeal. Indeed, this
holy Bishop has been sometimes regarded as a kind of
second Apostle of Britain.
Many persons will probably be curious to know some-
thing of the practice of the British Church in the days
of St. Germanus. And it is important to shew the
great antiquity of certain ecclesiastical customs, the
origin of which is sometimes referred to a later period.
One characteristic of the British Church in the fifth cen-
tury, was the great honour paid to the sanctuaries and
offices of religion. Every person who met a priest,
made obeisance to him, and asked him for his blessing.
Similar marks of respect were also paid to churches
and the appurtenances of Divine worship, such as bells,
service-books, and vestments. Of the devotion enter-
tained towards the relics of the Saints, we have already
had occasion to remark more than one striking instance.
Again, the holy cross was an object of singular vene-
THE BRITISH CHURCH. [CH.
ration. The rite of Confirmation was accompanied by
the use of the chrism. Penances were commonly per-
formed ; and, of all kinds of penitential service, pil-
grimages to Rome were the most popular, as well as the
most approved.
With these common and familiar features of the great
ceremonial system of the Catholic Church were joined,
in the British portion of it, others, more or less na-
tional. Thus we are told, that no one partook of a
loaf of bread without reserving a part of it for the
poor. Under the idea of " doing all to the glory of
(iod," it was usual for persons to sit three together
at their meals, in commemoration of the Blessed Trinity.
Again, penances, and especially pilgrimages to Rome,
were accompanied by the offering of tithes ; two-thirds
of which were given to the Church in which the peni-
tent had been baptized, and the remainder to the Bishop
of the diocese.
After St. Germanus had returned for the second time
to France, the Britons continued to suffer from the in-
cursions of their northern neighbours, the Scots and
Picts ; till, at length, in imminent danger of total sub-
jection, they sent to invite the Saxons to their aid.
Nothing can be more deplorable than the picture which
the historian, St. Grildas, himself a Briton, has drawn of
the moral condition of his countrymen at this time.
During the intervals of rest from war, and plenty after
tan line, which occurred in the midst of their contest
with the Scots and Picts, the most frightful sensuality
seems to have grown up ; and, along with it, such a
total corruption of principle as threatened much more
than any merely temporary demoralization of the na-
tional character. "What was worse than all," says the
historian, after recording other vices, " was the hatred
IV.] VISITS OF ST. GERM ANUS. 37
of truth, as well as its maintainers, and the love of
falsehood, as well as its forgers ; the preference of
evil to good ; the homage paid to vice instead of vir-
tue ; the longing after darkness instead of the Day ;
the reception of Satan as an Angel of light. Kings
were anointed, 7 with no reference to God, but simply on
account of their superior cruelty, and were soon after-
wards put to death, without trial, by their anointers ;
and others, more cruel still, elected in their place. If
any one of them chanced to be of milder disposition
than his fellows, or to have a greater regard for truth,
he was immediately looked upon as the destroyer of
his country, and became an object of universal and
undiscriminating hatred and violence. Things pleas-
ing and displeasing to God, were esteemed of equal
value, or rather, the latter were somewhat the more
highly prized of the two. In short, the warning for-
merly uttered by the prophet against the ancient people
of God, might well have been extended to this country.
c My sons, you have forsaken the law of God, and pro-
voked to anger the Holy One of Israel. . . . The whole
head is sick, and the whole heart faint,' &c." 8
Nor was this general corruption of manners confined
to the laity. " The Lord's very flock, with its shep-
herds, who ought to be an example to the people at
large, was plunged in excesses, and rent asunder by
mutual animosities." From this miserable picture, which
is pursued at some length by the historian, it is pleasant
to turn to the Martyrologies, proving, as they do, that,
even at this dreary time there were " lights shining in a
dark place." The century following upon the final de-
7 Hence appears the great antiquity of this practice in Britain.
8 Is. i. 3, 5 ; S. Gildas, de Excid. Brit. $ 21.
THE BRITISH CHURCH. [CH.
parture of St. Germanus, produced the great names of
SS. Daniel, David, Dubricius, Theliau, and Paternus, in
Wales ; St. Kentigern in North Britain ; SS. Ursula and
her companions, natives of Britain, and Martyrs in Ar-
morica ; St. Sophias, Martyr, St. Keyna, Virgin, St. Gund-
leus, Hermit, his son, St. Cadoc, and master, St. Tathai, St.
Dogmael, St. Gildas Albanius, and many others. Indeed,
the fifth and sixth centuries may be esteemed the gold-
en age of the Welch Church, which was at that period
both the fruitful mother of Saints, and the vigorous
defender of the Faith against heresy. In the earlier
part of this century, the Pelagian infection began once
more to break out ; upon which a synod was summoned
to meet at Brefi in Cardiganshire, under the presidency
of St. David, and orthodox decrees were put forth, the
record of which has, however, entirely perished, with
all other documents of the time. This synod was con-
vened about the year of our Lord 519.
One of the few circumstances of this period, interest-
ing in an ecclesiastical point of view, the memory of
which has survived the wreck of documents, and almost
of traditions, consequent upon the Saxon invasion, is the
question which arose upon the consecration of St. Ken-
tigern. The proceedings upon this occasion were, in seve-
ral points, uncanonical. First, the newly consecrated
Bishop was under age, having been at the time but
twenty-five. Secondly, he was consecrated by a single
Bishop j and thirdly, without consent of the Metropo-
litan. These deviations from the established practice
of the Western Church have led some to conclude, that
the ancient British Church derived its doctrine and
discipline not from Rome, but from the East. Such
an opinion, however, as it is certainly at variance with
facts which have already come under our notice, so does
IV.] VISITS OF ST. GEEMANUS. 39
it gain no support from the case of St. Kentigern. For,
surely, the irregularities in his consecration were as
little consonant with the rule and practice of the East
as of the West ; and must be set down, not to the
adoption of any particular precedent, but rather to
the departure from all precedent, rendered necessary
by the very unsettled state of Britain, which pre-
sented many obstacles to communication between dif-
ferent parts of the national Church. Hence, as it
would seem, the impossibility of obtaining, in suffi-
cient time, either the consent of the Metropolitan, or
the co-operation of other Bishops. It is said, that the
case of St. Kentigern's consecration was afterwards
brought before St. Gregory the Great, who dispensed,
under the circumstances, with the canonical forms.
About the same time, there seems to have crept into
the British Church some peculiarity of practice in the
mode of keeping Easter. It does not indeed appear that
the Church in this country ever gave in to the faulty
observance of the East so far as to keep the Paschal
feast on a week-day, but only did not. like the rest of
Western Christendom, make a point of avoiding the four-
teenth day of the month, even when it fell on a Sunday.
Yet at Aries, where three British Bishops were present,
and again, eleven years afterwards, at Nicaaa, where the
British Church is also thought to have been represented,
the Catholic, as opposed to the Quartodeciman and Ju-
daizing rule, was formally sanctioned, and the British
Church thus pledged to follow the Western practice ; a
pledge which appears, by a letter of the Emperor Con-
stantine, written the same year with the Council of
Nicaea, to have been faithfully redeemed. 9
9 Eusebius in Vita Constantini, iii. 19.
4<) THE BRITISH CHURCH. [CH.
The whole question, as it relates to Britain is, as Mr.
Alban Butler somewhere observes, no otherwise inte-
resting than as a matter of historical fact. There are
two reasons, however, which give it a claim to notice
in the present sketch ; the light which it seems, in
common with the case of St. Kentigern just mentioned,
to throw upon the state of the British Church at the
period under review ; and the prominence of the subject
in the controversy afterwards maintained between St.
Augustine of Canterbury and the British Bishops. The
Scots and Britons were finally brought into agreement
with the Catholic rule of Easter by the instrumentality
of St. Wilfred in the year 664. 10
10 Rev. A. Butler, Lives of the Saints. Oct. 12.
V.] ITS DEGENERACY AND AFFLICTIONS. 41
CHAPTER V.
THE BRITISH CHURCH. ITS DEGENERACY AND AFFLIC-
TIONS.
A.D. 448 A.D. 586.
THE course of our narrative now requires us to turn to
the barbarous nations which God raised up to punish
the wickedness of the ancient Britons, and to become,
in due time, the recipients of His converting grace.
The Saxons appear to have been originally Getse, or
Goths, who passed from Sweden into Germany under
the conduct of Odin, or Woden, their military chief,
afterwards honoured among them as their tutelar divi-
nity. The Angles were probably a tribe of the Cim-
brians ; and the Jutes, like the Saxons, were derived,
as their name jmports, from the Getse. In the second
century of the Christian sera, these tribes were obscure
and insignificant ; but, in the earlier part of the fourth,
they had grown into a populous and important nation.
The arrival of some Franks on the shores of Batavia
first moved them to try their fortunes on the sea ; and
they had landed several times on the coasts of Britain
before the Britons, thus made aware of their bold and
enterprising habits, were led to invite their assistance
against the Scots and Picts. The result of this ill-con-
sidered measure is sufficiently notorious. Illustrating
the old fable of the horse, who found a master where
he sought and expected a friend, the miserable Britons
too soon discovered that they had filled their country
42 THE BRITISH CHURCH. [CH.
with enemies under the mask of allies. After many
years of ineffectual resistance, during which the invaders
poured in upon the island in still increasing numbers,
the natives were compelled to surrender, or to fly. The
greater portion were enslaved to the conquerors ; some
migrated to the friendly shores of Brittany, where there
had been a settlement of Britons since the fourth cen-
tury others withdrew into Cornwall ; while the re-
mainder, including the principal ecclesiastics, took shel-
ter behind the mountains of Wales, which was evidently
at that time the most religious quarter of the island, and
thus from sympathy, not less than geographical situation
and characteristics, the fittest of all places to afford an
asylum to the exiled Church.
When the territory of Britain was finally ceded to the
invaders, the see of London was filled by Theonus, and
that of York by Thadioc. These prelates, with their
flocks, determined upon flight ; and accordingly, having
gathered together all the sacred vessels they could
rescue from the fury of the idolaters, together with
many precious relics of Saints, departed, in the year
586, for Wales. There, upon their arrival, they reve-
rently deposited the sacred relics in graves which
they had caused to be dug for the purpose. Theonus
was the last Archbishop of London j the primacy of
the national Church having been afterwards transferred
to Canterbury. The successor of Thadioc in the Arch-
bishopric of York, was St. Paulinus, one of the com-
panions of St. Augustine.
That, notwithstanding all the miserable corruption of
the British clergy and people, the invaders found much
more than the name and shadow of a Church against
which to direct their rage, is evident from the Saints,
dwellers in Britain, or at least natives of it, who adorned
V.] ITS DEGENERACY AND AFFLICTIONS. 43
the Church in the sixth century, in the middle of which
we hear (besides the Saints more immediately connected
with Wales) of SS. Winwaloe, Petroc, and Helier, the
two former abbots, respectively, in Brittany and Corn-
wall, the last a Martyr in Jersey ; and, even at the
close of it, Brittany seems to have yielded one witness
to the power of the Cross in St. Gudwall, or Gurwall,
who, before his emigration, was Superior of a religious
house of great repute in Devonshire. Moreover, it is
plain from the account of St. Bede, that Britain was
watered with Martyrs' blood even during the victorious
progress of the Saxon arms. 1 " Priests," he says, " were
everywhere massacred at the altars, and prelates with
their flocks, all respect to honour being set at nought,
were swept away by fire and sword, without any to
give burial to their mangled corpses." 2
St. Bede here seems to point to the Psalmist's words : :
" Deus, venerunt gentes in hsereditatem Tuam ; pollu-
erunt templum sanctum Tuum . . . posuerunt morticina
servorum Tuorum, escas volatilibus cceli, carnes sancto-
rum Tuorum bestiis terrse. Effuderunt sanguinem
eorum, tanquam aquam in circuitu Jerusalem; et non
erat qui sepeliret. Facti sumus opprobrium vicinis nos-
tris, subsannatio et illusio his qui in circuitu nostro
sunt." 3
And yet, if ever there were a case in which the calami-
ties of a nation wore the appearance of a most righteous
judgement upon sin, and in which the chastisements of
Almighty GOD, however terrible, were conspicuously
tempered by provisions of mercy, the case of the Saxon
conquest of Britain was such. That the visitation was
1 Vide page 2. 2 S. Bede, lib. i. c. 15.
3 Ps. Ixxviii. (Lxxix.) 14.
1 1 THE BRITISH CHURCH. [CH.
strictly retributive, is affirmed by both the sainted
historians who have described it. 4 Meanwhile, we, who
come after, cannot but recognize the hand of Divine
Goodness in an appointment, which destroyed one tem-
ple, only to raise up, in its place, another, far more
beautiful and glorious. England, till after the Saxon
invasion, was celebrated rather as the receptacle of new
and strange doctrines, 5 than as the " island of saints ;"
at least, the holy names which have sunk deepest into
the memories, and been most often upon the lips, of
posterity, the virgin Kings, and the valiant Archbishops,
England's especial " glory," were the fruit, not of the
British, but of the English, Church. Would it not
seem as if, in the counsels of Divine Providence, that
entire repeopling of our island which followed upon
the Saxon invasion, had some mysterious bearing upon
the future destinies of the Church of this land ? The
materials of the former House were cast aside as vile
and refuse, and a new quarry opened from which were
to be fetched stones, rude in appearance, but meeter for
the Master's use. To say this, is not to derogate from
the all-transforming virtue of Divine Grace, but merely
to imply that its operations leave untouched the original
distinctions of national as of individual character ; elicit-
ing (if it may be said) only a more perfect harmony
through the combination of various, though not discord-
ant, elements of sweetness and power. Indeed, in the
characteristic features of the Saxon nature, as they have
been left on record by a most unsuspicious witness, the
historian Tacitus, the Christian eye may perhaps de-
4 S. Gildas, 24 ; S. Bede, lib. i. c. 14.
5 Omnis se lues haereseos cujusque, insulae, novi semper aliquid
audire gaudenti, et nihil certi firmiter obtinenti, infudit. S. Bede,
lib. i. c. 8.
V.] ITS DEGENERACY AND AFFLICTIONS. 45
tect not a few signs of that abundant promise which
was afterwards realized through the mighty Agency
which resides in the Christian Church. Deeply inter-
esting and instructive is it to trace, in the dauntless
bravery 6 of those fierce warlike tribes, the seeds of the
martyr-spirit ; of reverence for sacred things, in the dread
of ceremonial pollution ; 6 of aptitude for the deep impres-
sions of awe and mystery, in the superstitious estimate of
the female sex ;? and, above all, of those lovely graces of
virgin sanctity, and chastity in the marriage state, which
bloomed nowhere so kindlily as in English soil, in the
honours paid to continence, and the estimate, for a
heathen nation so remarkably strict, of the intent and
obligations of the matrimonial bond. 8 Nay, even in the
very vices which prevailed among the German tribes,
grounded as they evidently were, less in the desire of
base sensual indulgence, than in the love of excitement,9
may be discovered the elements of a temper, (natural,
rather than simply evil,) which the Catholic Church,
with its opportunities of intense devotion, and, as it
were, romantic enterprise, its magnificent and diversified
apparatus of arresting wonders and soul-entrancing
solemnities, is especially ordained by God to address,
engage, and sanctify.
6 Scutum reliquisse, praecipuum flagitium, nee aut sacris adesse, aut
consilium inire, ignominioso fas. Tac. de Mor. Germ. vi.
7 Inesse quinetiam feminis sanctum aliquid et providum putant, &c.
ib. viii.
8 Severa illic matrimonia; soli barbarorum singulis uxoribus con-
tent! sunt . . . ne se mulier extra virtutum cogitationes, extraque bel-
lorum casus putet, ipsis incipientis matrimonii auspiciis admonetur,
venire se laborum periculorumque sociam, &c. ib. xix.
9 Cibi simplices ; agrestia poma, recens fera, aut lac concretum ;
sine apparatu, sine blandimentis, expellunt famem ; adversus sitim non
eadern temperantia. ib. xxiv. But their besetting vice was, gaming,
cxxiv.
46 THE BRITISH CHURCH. [CH.
Such, as portrayed by a heathen pen, were some
distinctive marks of the character which Divine Grace
was afterwards to mould into those various but alike
noble and beautiful forms of saintliness, for which the
English Church was once proverbial among the nations
of Christendom. We are now to speak of the honoured
instruments to whom the beginnings of this goodly work
were entrusted.
VI.] ST. GREGORY THE GREAT. 47
CHAPTER VI.
ST. GREGORY THE GREAT, THE SPIRITUAL FATHER OF
ENGLAND.
NOTHING, humanly speaking, could have been more
gloomy than the religious prospects of Britain, or, as
we must now say, England, when the Saxons finally
became masters of it. The ancient Britons, with whom
alone of all the islanders the light of the Gospel now
resided, manifested no disposition whatever to carry it
among the Pagan Saxons. Their blameworthy supine-
ness in this matter is distinctly objected to them by St.
Bede ; x and, for all that appears, with the best reason.
It is true, indeed, as an historian has observed, 2 that so
heavy a charge ought not to be brought against the Bri-
tons without certain allowances. Their relative position
with respect to the Saxons, was such as must needs
have rendered the attempt at conversion not less unac-
ceptable to its objects than humiliating to their own
national prejudices. But it is certain that no difficul-
ties stood in the way of the undertaking, which a truly
Apostolic zeal and charity would not have been aided
to overcome. From whatever cause, however, whether
as the result of internal divisions, or as the baneful
fruit of luxury, or as a consequence of the interruption
1 Inter alia inenarrabilium scelenm) facta, hoc addebant,
ut nunquam genti Saxonum, sivc Anglorum, secum Brittanniam in-
colenti, verbum fidei prsedicando committerent. Lib. i. c. 22.
2 Rapin.
48 ST. GREGORY THE GREAT, [CH.
of intercourse with the Continent, a spirit of languor
had crept over the British Church in general, during
the century preceding the final establishment of the
Saxon power, to which we are, perhaps, not wrong in
attributing the apparent indifference with which its
members seem to have regarded the spiritual desolation
of their country.
But if the prospect was thus cheerless at home, still
more improbable, surely, did it seem, that the arm of
help would be extended from any foreign quarter. The
great external source to which, in times past, our island
had been indebted for religious knowledge, was the
Roman Church ; whether acting directly for herself,
or mediately through her handmaid, the Church of
Gaul. But, ever since the earlier part of the fifth
century, when the empire relinquished its hold upon
Britain, all regular communication between Rome and
this country had ceased. Indeed, from that period,
Britain, to all appearance, relapsed into the obscurity
to which its remote situation and insular form naturally
tended. Neither was it from Rome alone that our is-
land, since its assertion of independence, was cut off. It
became a little world in itself, the theatre of internal
rivalries and struggles, but " seldom connected, either
in peace or war, with the nations of the Continent ;
insomuch that in the copious history of Gregory of
Tours we cannot find any traces of hostile or friendly
intercourse" (even) " between France and England," 3
till the events which immediately preceded the mission
of St. Augustine.
It has often been observed before, that Divine help
is then ever readiest when human prospects are darkest ;
3 Gibbon.
VI.] THE SPIRITUAL FATHER OF ENGLAND. 49
and surely the present case is to the point of this most
true and consoling sentiment. What could have been
more contrary to expectation than the means by which
the intercourse between England and Rome, thus long
suspended, was eventually restored, and restored with
all the happier effect, inasmuch as it was to be hence-
forth a strictly religious intercourse, unfettered by any
political ties, and unclouded by the consciousness, or
even the memory, of any hostile relations ? Such, indeed,
the connexion between Britain and the Church of Rome
had ever been ; but perhaps it was difficult for the
Britons to forget, as it was assuredly undesirable for
them to bear in mind, that the power which had inter-
posed to give them true freedom, was locally identified
with that which never came before them but as the
enemy of their national independence. From this time
forth, however, the bond between Rome and England
was to become an exclusively Christian one. And, as
if to facilitate so blessed an issue, the island itself had
been replenished with new inhabitants, and those were
now to be brought into intercourse with Rome of a
directly and unambiguously spiritual kind, who had
never associated, even with her very name, any ideas
at variance with that sweet maternal character which,
by the mercy of God, she was henceforth to assume
towards them. But we must hasten to a detail of the
strange circumstances under which this new connexion
between England and the Church of Rome was cemented ;
and to this end it will be necessary to shift the scene of
our narrative from our own island, in which it has
hitherto been laid, to that illustrious City from which
the frail memorials of earthly pomp and temporal
dominion had now departed, to make way for the one
only Dynasty which is without limit and without end ;
E
ST. GREGORY THE GREAT, [CH.
the Empire of empires, the substance whereof all other
dominions are but the shadows, though itself but the
shadow of that better and lasting Kingdom into which
it shall one day be absorbed.
We will first speak of St. Gregory, the author of St.
Augustine's mission. He was born about the year 540 :
his father, Gordianus, was a person of great wealth
and senatorial rank, who, in the latter years of his
life, withdrew from secular cares, and filled an import-
ant office in the Church, that of Regionary, or one of
the seven Cardinal Deacons, who were appointed by
the Pope to superintend the ecclesiastical districts of
the city. His mother was Sylvia, a lady who found
her chief pleasure in acts of devotion, and who, for
the more undisturbed exercise of prayer and contem-
plation, built herself a little oratory near the Church
of St. Paul. Their son Gregory, that is the Vigilant,
(a name given him under an almost prophetic foresight
of his future career,) was brought up to the law, in
which study he made diligent progress, and by his
general attainments, and the excellence of his dispo-
sition and conduct, recommended himself to the notice
of the emperor Justin the younger, who appointed him
pni'tor, or, as we might now say, .Mayor, of Rome.
As chief magistrate of the city, he was bound to main-
tain considerable state, both in his dress and in other
appointments ; he wore the trabea, which was a rich
robe of silk adorned with jewels, peculiar to his own
office, and that of the consuls. Such splendid trap-
pings, however lawful as accessories to popular con-
sideration and respect, and in no wise to be declined
by those whom God calls to posts of earthly dignity,
are but little in keeping with the mind of Saints,
who ever desire to shrink from public gaze instead of
VI.] THE SPIRITUAL FATHER OF ENGLAND. 51
seeming to court it. Nevertheless, these accompani-
ments of worldly greatness do not furnish, on this ac-
count, the less valuable opportunity of self-denial, and
even retirement of spirit, little as we might be apt to
suppose that they could ever be made serviceable to
ends so uncongenial to their nature and intention.
In Gregory they did not tend, at all events, to obstruct
the progress of the spiritual life ; for we read that, even
while in office, he was continually at his devotions in
church, or in private, and that he would steal away
from the busy scenes of the world, when his other duties
admitted of it, or decline more brilliant society for the
sake of conversing with devout and learned monks.
When he had filled the office of praetor one year, he
resolved upon quitting the world, and taking the mo-
nastic habit under Valentinus, the second Abbot of
the Monastery of St. Andrew, which he had himself
built after he came into possession of ample estates
upon the death of his father. He entered this mon-
astery at the age of 35, but was soon obliged to ob-
tain a dispensation from all strict fasting on account
of ill health. He was attacked by severe fainting fits,
arising from weakness of stomach, and this malady
seems to have clung to him during the rest of his life.
The necessity of taking food at times when the rule of
the Church forbad it, was a great trouble to him,
more especially in the weeks devoted to the commem-
moration of our Lord's Adorable Passion. On Easter
Eve, the strictest Fast in the whole year, hi& grief
at being precluded from conforming to the general
practice was so intense, that he determined upon con-
sulting a monk of great prudence and sanctity, named
Eleutherius, in company with whom he prayed for
power to " keep the fast at least on that sacred day,"
ST. GREGORY THE GREAT, [CH.
ami immediately felt himself so much strengthened, that
he was able to observe the rule without any painful
consequences.
The time w r hich St. Gregory passed in St. Andrew's
Monastery, he ever looked back upon as the happiest
of his life. After his elevation to the Popedom, he
was apt, in conversation with his friends, to draw com-
parisons between the cares of his official, and the peace-
fulness of his monastic, life. " My poor mind," he
would say, " recurs from these buffeting and piercing
anxieties, to old monastic days, when it was occupied
with higher matters, and allowed the passing events
of the time to glide away, as it were, below it. So
intent was it in holy contemplation, that, though still
in the body, it seemed to have already burst the bonds
of flesh, and to look even upon death, which almost
all esteem a penalty, as but the door of life and the
crown of all its labours. Now, on the contrary, from
the necessary avocations of the Pastoral charge, it is
obliged to undergo not a little of the business of
mere seculars ; and, after so sweet a vision of its rest,
has again to be soiled with the dust of earthly en-
gagements. Thus, I weigh what I bear, and I weigh
what I have lost ; and what I bear seems the more griev-
ous from reflecting upon what I have sacrificed. For
I am now tossed by the waves of a mighty ocean ;
and my mind, like a ship, is dashed to and fro by the
violence of a furious storm ; and when I recollect my
former life, turning, as it were, my eyes behind, I obtain
a glimpse of the shore, and sigh. And, what is worst
of all, while I am in the midst of these enormous beat-
ing billows, I am hardly able to get a sight of the har-
bour which I have quitted." 4
4 S. Greg. Prnefatio in Dialogos.
VI.] THE SPIRITUAL FATHER OF ENGLAND. 53
It would be very unfair indeed to take a Saint's
estimate of himself as the measure of his real pro-
ficiency or profitableness. " We may rather conclude/'
says St. Gregory's biographer, " that, notwithstanding
these lowly thoughts of himself, his pastoral occupa-
tions had detracted nothing from the sum of his mo-
nastic perfection ; but rather that, by his labours in
the conversion of many, he was making yet greater
advances in the perfect way than formerly, when he was
in the calmness of a private retreat/' 5
However this may have been, certain it is that the
heart of Gregory was never more open to the motions
of brotherly love and compassion towards sinners, than
at the period when he had the greatest leisure for holy
contemplation, and the study of divine books. Indeed,
there is no specific against the spirit of a morose and
exclusive selfishness more effectual than the habit of
communion with God in prayer, and the intent medi-
tation on holy mysteries. It is much intercourse with
the world at large, which tends to dry up the springs
of brotherly affection. Eeligious solitude, on the con-
trary, ever unlocks them and sets them flowing ; and the
want of active opportunities for their exercise, and the
absence of visible objects towards which to direct them,
are readily and abundantly supplied from the resources
of mental devotion; since what charity can be more
availing, or more comprehensive, than that for which
Monasteries give such ample scope intercessory prayer *?
The rules, however, of the house to which St. Gregory
the Great attached himself were not so strict as to pre-
clude its members from those opportunities of active
kindness which are furnished, with whatever draw-
5 Vita S. Greg, per Paul. Diac.
o4 ST. GREGORY THE GREAT, [CH.
backs, to persons whose lot is cast in large cities,
and whose duties carry them out into the streets. It
was when he was a brother of St. Andrew's, that he
chanced one day to pass through the slave-market at
Rome, where, among the wretched victims of human
cupidity who met from various parts of the world in
that still famous and central, though now fallen, me-
tropolis, the good monk was struck by the appearance
of three youths, remarkable for the beauty of their
complexions, and especially for their fine auburn hair.
Turning to the person who had charge of them,
he asked whence they came, and was answered, " From
Britain, where the people in general are as beautiful
as they." " And are these people Christians," con-
tinued the monk, " or still in Pagan darkness f "They
are not Christians," rejoined the merchant, who had
heard something of Christianity both in England and
at Rome, " they are still entangled in Pagan errors." 6
" Alas !" replied the monk, with a deep sigh, " alas !
that so much beauty should be the property of the
prince of darkness, and these fair forms be the dwelling-
places of souls which the Spirit of God has never
visited !" Then, after a pause, he continued, " What
is the name of their nation ? " " They are called
Angles," was the reply. Now Gregory was a man of
a lively wit, and, though at this time in a sorrowful
mood, yet perhaps some bright and happy thoughts
had flashed across his mind during the progress of this
conversation ; moreover, intense feeling of any kind is not
unaccustomed to throw itself off in a kind of playfulness,
which strikes bystanders as unfeeling and out of place.
From whatever cause, Gregory's imagination caught at
-unis laqucis irretiti. Vita S. Greg, per Paul. Diac.
VI.] THE SPIRITUAL FATHER OF ENGLAND. 55
the merchant's answer, and he exclaimed ; " Angles, call
ye them ? Angels, rather ; for Angel-like they are, and
fit for Angels' company. But to what province of their
country do they belong f " Deira," replied the mer-
chant. " Ay, and from God's ire they shall be snatch-
ed," said the monk, again playing upon the answer,
" and brought over to the grace of Christ. And the
king of their country, how call ye him V " J311a,"
was the reply; upon which, Gregory, eager, perhaps,
to bind himself to the purpose of the moment by giving
it formal shape and irrevocable publicity, and still
finding in the sound of the last word a kind of tuning
note to his thoughts, exclaimed, " Meetly is your king
called JElla, for ALLELUIA must be chanted in his
dominions."
ST. GREGORY THE GREAT, [CH.
CHAPTER VII.
ST. GREGORY THE GREAT.
GREGORY could not possibly be mistaken in looking
upon this incident as a providential direction to him ;
and he accordingly determined, from that day forward,
to give neither " sleep to his eyes, nor slumber to his
eyelids," till he had made his words good by preaching
the Gospel, or causing it to be preached, in Pagan
England. Full of this purpose, he repaired to the feet
of Pope Benedict I., and implored that a mission to
England might be forthwith set on foot. 1 When no
one seemed ready to undertake it, Gregory himself vo-
lunte,ered to go, should the holy Father see fit to appoint
him. No sooner was it rumoured throughout Rome,
that Gregory had surrendered himself to the Pope for .
this foreign service, than multitudes, both of clergy
and laity, came forward to implore that his valuable
presence might be preserved to them. However, after
a time, the entreaties of Gregory prevailed against
the voice of the people ; the Pope reluctantly gave his
consent, and dismissed the monk with a special prayer
for the prosperity of his undertaking.
1 This chronology is adopted from Paul the Deacon, who is followed
by William of Malmesbury and Mr. Alban Butler. Cressy puts the
meeting of St. Gregory with the English slaves after his return from
Constantinople, and in the reign of Pelagius II. John the Deacon,
the other ancient biographer of St. Gregory, omits the whole story. In
illustration of it, see St. Greg. Ep. lib. vi. c. 7. Malmesbury de Reg. lib.
I.e. 3. Gerald. Camb. in Hebr. exp. lib. 1. c. 18. Ina, king of the
West Saxons, made a law against this hateful commerce.
VII.] THE SPIRITUAL FATHER OF ENGLAND. 57
Gregory then set out, with some brethren of the
Monastery, but in the strictest possible privacy. The
fact of his departure, however, by some means got abroad,
and all Rome was speedily in commotion. The popu-
lace, with whom Gregory was an especial favourite,
shared the consternation of his friends at his sudden
disappearance, and, having met in an immense body,
agreed to separate into three parties, so as to waylay
the Pope on his progress to St. Peter's. When his Holi-
ness appeared, the vehemence of the multitude exceeded
all bounds. Forgetting every customary form of respect,
the people rushed towards him in a body, and pressed
him with words such as these : " You have displeased
St. Peter. You have ruined Rome. Why did you let
Gregory go T The Pope, it seems, had been, from the
first, exceedingly unwilling to grant Gregory's prayer ;
and this unanimous expression of public opinion fur-
nished him with a pretext for revoking his consent.
Messengers were accordingly despatched to recal Gregory.
The zealous little troop of missionaries had proceeded
three days' journey on their way, and happened to be
resting themselves in a field, Gregory, with a book in
his hand, and his companions sitting or lying still
around him. It is said that, while they were thus
reposing, a locust had perched upon Gregory's book,
and suggested to his active fancy the idea of some check
to the mission. 2 Accordingly, calling to his compa-
nions, he proposed to them to start at once ; when,
on a sudden, the messengers of the Pope came up, and
Gregory was reluctantly compelled to retrace his steps,
and, on his arrival at Rome, once more took up his
abode in St. Andrew's Monastery.
2 " Locusta, quasi loco sta."
58 ST. GREGORY THE GREAT, [CH.
This abrupt, and, for all that appeared, final, ter-
mination to his hopes must have been a grievous dis-
appointment to him ; but he had the comfort of know-
ing that he had done his best, made no false step, and
acted from first to last in deference to authority. And
he had been long enough a monk to find more pleasure
in sacrificing his own will at the command of a superior,
than in pursuing fond schemes of his own even in lines
along which God's blessing might have seemed likely
to go with him. For he knew that nothing short of a
voice from Heaven can dispense with the obligation of
implicit obedience to the clear voice of authority
in matters not plainly sinful. Behold Gregory, then,
with wishes crossed and hopes frustrated ; from the
leader in a glorious enterprise, become once more the
pupil in a school of discipline ; recalled from the pursuit
of daring aims, and the indulgence of transporting
visions, to the exercises of penance and the even routine
of monastic life.
Not long after his return, Gregory was consecrated
one of the seven deacons, whose office it was to assist
the Pope. The duties of this ministry he discharged,
says one of his biographers, with almost angelical dili-
gence and fidelity. He was next sent by Pope Pelagius
II., the successor of Benedict, in the capacity of Nuncio,
to Constantinople, where, for several years, he repre-
sented the Apostolic See at the court of the pious em-
peror Theodosius. During his stay at Constantinople,
where he was compelled to live more in the world than
suited his tastes and habits, he was very careful not
to break in upon those self-denying courses through
which alone he could be rendered proof against the
dangers of his new position. He even redeemed time
enough from his public avocations, to write, at the
VII.] THE SPIRITUAL FATHER OF ENGLAND. 59
suggestion of Leander, Bishop of Seville, who hap-
pened to be then at Constantinople, his " Morals," or
Commentary on the Book of Job ; a work which St.
Thomas Aquinas is said to have highly prized as a
repository of the soundest principles of Christian ethics.
During the same period, St. Gregory was involved in
a distressing controversy with Eutychius, the patriarch
of Constantinople, who broached some heretical views
upon the resurrection of the just. St. Gregory calmly
remonstrated with him, and, in the end, the good patri-
arch was led to retract this error, and, during a fit of
illness, made a public avowal, in the emperor's pre-
sence, of his submission to the Church in the article
of which he had doubted. The error was never after-
wards revived. St. Gregory ever stood high in the esti-
mation of the emperor and of the whole imperial family ;
as a mark of which he was selected to stand godfather
to the eldest son of Mauritius, the emperor's son-in-law
and successor.
In the year 584, St. Gregory was recalled from Con-
stantinople by Pope Pelagius II., and on his return
to Rome again betook himself to his beloved retreat,
the Monastery of St. Andrew, of which he was soon after
chosen Abbot. At the beginning of the year 590, Rome
was visited by a tremendous epidemic, which was the
occasion of bringing out St. Gregory's character in a new
light. Having assembled the people, he delivered to
them a powerful and touching address, and ended by
appointing a solemn procession through the streets of
the city in seven companies, which were to move, each
headed by a priest, from the different churches, chanting
Kyrie eleeison as they walked, and to fall in with one
another at St. Mary Major's. So furiously did the disease
rage at this time, that no less than eighty of the persons
GO ST. GREGORY THE GREAT, [cil.
who assisted in this solemnity died in a single hour
during the progress of the procession. St. Gregory,
meanwhile, was indefatigable in his labours of charity,
and continued to assemble and exhort the people as long
as the plague lasted.
During all this time St. Gregory had a great trial
hanging over him, which, had he allowed himself to
dwell upon it, would have been a subject of most painful
anxiety. The mention of this will also serve as the
explanation of a circumstance which, looking to the
known humility and backwardness of the Saint's dis-
position, may have already occasioned surprise to the
reader : his seeming assumption, during the pestilence at
Rome, of almost episcopal authority. The fact is, that,
among the earliest victims of the disease was Pope
Pelagius himself; and the unanimous voice of the clergy,
senate, and people, of Rome, had fixed upon Gregory
as his successor. It was under no eagerness on Gre-
gory's part to respond to this call, that he came forward
as he did at the time of the plague, but merely because
there was no other ecclesiastical person who was obviously
called to take the lead in a season of great national
distress. St. Gregory was thus enabled, vacante sede, to
gratify, without impropriety, his zealous and charitable
inclinations. And perhaps he was not sorry for the
opportunity of escaping from a great private care, by
making others' feelings his own, and occupying all his
time in works of mercy and brotherly kindness. What,
then, was this care ? In such measure as the reader has
learned to sympathize with St. Gregory, he will probably
have anticipated it. The Saint himself did not take
the same view with persons around him of his own
fitness to undertake the government of the Church *
He shrank, in fact, from the prospect of the Pontifical
VII.] THE SPIRITUAL FATHER OF ENGLAND. 61
dignity, which all Rome was eager to thrust upon him.
He saw no escape from the alternative, on the one side
of displeasing those whom he most valued, and seeming
cowardly and obstinate besides, and, on the other, of
incurring a responsibility, at which he positively shud-
dered, and which, far from coming recommended to
him by the outward circumstances of dignity which
accompanied it, was, for that very reason, presented to
his mind in a light all the more appalling. St. Gre-
gory did not deceive himself, as so many are apt to do
under similar circumstances, by dwelling upon the op-
portunities of usefulness which attend the possession of
place and power, whether in Church or State. If ever
there were the man who might have been reasonably
determined by considerations of this nature, it was surely
he, who had the conversion of England at heart, and
who was certain to gain, upon his elevation to the Pope-
dom, the power of carrying out this favourite project.
Still Gregory chose, (no doubt under an excess of hu-
mility and self-mistrust,) to look upon himself as unfit
for the highest station in the Church ; and from this
view of the question, neither the entreaties of his friends,
nor the unanimous wishes of the people, nor any reasons
of expediency, could tempt him to swerve. How deeply
the Saint valued his monastic calm, and with what
apprehension he regarded the prospect of being finally
severed from it and thrust into a prominent and conspi-
cuous sphere, may be gathered from many expressions
which fell from him, after his elevation, in confidential
letters to his friends. The following may suffice out
of a great number which might be brought forward.
To one who had written him a letter of congratula-
tion on his advancement, he replies :
" I marvel that you have withdrawn your wonted
62 ST. GREGORY THE GREAT, [CH.
kindness (in thus congratulating me) when, under
colour of the Episcopate, I am in reality brought back
into the world ; for I am now the slave of earthly cares
as I never remember to have been, when a laic. The
deep joys of my repose I have lost, and my inward
fall is proportioned to my exterior elevation. Reason,
then, have I to deplore that I am thrust so far from
the face of my Maker. For I was trying to live daily
out of the world, and out of the body ; to drive far
from the eyes of my mind all corporeal phantasies, and
with other than the organs of bodily sense to behold the
joys which are above. I panted for the face of God, not
in words only, but from the very inmost marrow of
my heart, and cried, ' My heart hath said to Thee ....
Thy face, Lord, will I seek.' There was nothing in
this world which I coveted, nothing which I feared;
I seemed, as it were, upon an eminence, and enjoying
almost a fulfilment of the Lord's promise by the mouth
of the prophet, ' I will lift thee up above the high places
of the earth.' But I have been on a sudden cast down
from this height, and am hurried away by the whirlwind
of these temptations into the depths of terror and alarm.
For, though about myself I have no fears, I am full of
apprehension for those who are entrusted to my care." 3
The last words seem to furnish a clue to the real
cause of St. Gregory's misgivings anxiety for others.
At any rate, so bent was he upon using all legitimate
means against the appointment, that he even despatched
private letters to the Emperor to withhold his confirma-
tion of the election, and to the Patriarch of Constanti-
nople to second his entreaties towards this end. All,
however, was to no purpose. The letters were intercepted
3 S. Greg. Ep. lib. i. 5.
VII.] THE SPIRITUAL FATHER OF ENGLAND. 63
by the Governor of Rome, and others sent in their stead
of a directly opposite purport. St. Gregory was natur-
ally displeased upon finding that his letters had been sup-
pressed, and, seeing no other course open to him, deter-
mined upon flight. Being unable to pass .the sentinels
at the gates of the city, he prevailed upon some mer-
chants to cover his escape, which he effected by con-
cealing himself in a wicker basket. For three days
he lay hid in the neighbourhood of Rome, during which
time " prayer was made for him," with fasting, by all
the Roman people. At length, having been miracu-
lously discovered, he was brought back into the city,
amid the enthusiastic shouts of the populace, and con-
secrated Pope on the 3rd of September, 590.
We must now return for a while to England, where,
as at Rome, the course of events had been most won-
derfully overruled, so as to favour the accomplishment
of those purposes of mercy towards our country, which
it is the object of these pages to commemorate.
G4 KING ETHELBERT [CH.
CHAPTER VIII.
KING ETHELBERT AND QUEEN BERTHA.
Two persons, who fill an important place in the his-
tory of the conversion of England, are Ethelbert, king
of Kent, and afterwards of all England south of the
Humber, and his queen, Adilberga, or Bertha. Ethel-
bert was great-great-grandson of Hengist, who, after the
conquest of Britain, established himself in the kingdom
of Kent. He began to reign in 561, and had therefore
been on the throne thirty-six years, when St. Augustine
and his companions arrived in England. During the
greater part of this time, he held a very subordinate
rank among the kings of the Heptarchy, especially after
his failure in an expedition against Ceaulin, the power-
ful king of Wessex, who finally repulsed him in a great
battle at Wimbledon, about the year 569. Being an
ambitious prince, and proud of his descent from Hen-
gist, he was still bent on obtaining power over the other
kings of the Heptarchy, and, with a view to this object,
sought to strengthen himself by a foreign alliance. He
accordingly made proposals of marriage to Bertha,
daughter of Charibert, king of Paris, and his wife
Ingoberga. Charibert was a prince of depraved cha-
racter, but he died when Bertha was very young ; and
that princess, under the care of her excellent mother,
Ingoberga, and her uncle Chilperic, king of Soissons,
made such progress in holy living, that she afterwards
became a real blessing both to her husband, and to the
VIII.] AND QUEEN BERTHA. 65
whole English nation. Great opposition was raised by
Chilperic, Bertha's guardian, to her union with a hea-
then prince ; but such ill-assorted marriages have been
sanctioned in various ages of the Church, and not in
the very earliest alone, (in which they were of course
quite common,) in the hope, no doubt, that they might
be blessed to the true " sanctification " of the unbeliev-
ing, or heretical, party in the contract. In the case
before us, the difficulty was got over upon a stipulation,
that the French princess should be allowed the free ex-
ercise of her religion in England, and be accompanied
by a priest and confessor, so as to enjoy constant oppor-
tunities, as well of attending the public services of the
Church, as of receiving the benefit of absolution and
spiritual direction. To these terms King Ethelbert
readily acceded; and in the year 570 his marriage
with Bertha was concluded. The clergyman, chosen to
accompany the queen to England, was Lethard or Luid-
hard, Bishop of Senlis, a prelate whose name was after-
wards enrolled in the catalogue of English Saints.
Upon the death of Ceaulin, king of Wessex, the most
powerful chief of his time, a way was opened for Ethel-
bert's succession to the first place among the kings of
the Heptarchy, which was accordingly yielded to him
about 596, the very year in which St. Augustine's mis-
sion was undertaken. And here it may be well, with
the view of throwing light upon some former passages
of this narrative, and of saving digressions in the sequel,
to mention the names of the different kings who, at the
end of the sixth century, governed the various provinces
of the Heptarchy, together with the boundaries of their
respective provinces.
1. Ethelbert, king of Kent, whose immediate domi-
nions comprised that county alone, but who, upon the
F
66 KING ETHELBERT, [CH.
death of Ceaulin, and the succession of his son Cealric,
had obtained an indirect authority over all the other
kingdoms, with the single exception of Northumber-
land.
2. Edilwalch, grandson of Ella, and his successor in
the kingdom of the South Saxons, comprehending the
counties of Sussex and Surrey.
3. Cealric, the immediate successor of the above-
mentioned Ceaulin, king of the West Saxons, and a
descendant of Cerdic the founder of that kingdom. He
governed the counties of Hants, Berks, Wilts, Somerset,
Dorset, Devon, and that part of Cornwall which had not
been secured by the Britons.
4. Sebert, king of the East Saxons, whose territory
comprised the district which afterwards formed the
diocese of London.
5. Ethelfrid,' great-grandson of Ida, founder of the
kingdom of Northumbria, and the successor to his
dominions, consisting of the territory north of the Hum-
ber, and south of Edinburgh. It was generally subdi-
vided into Bernicia, which contained Northumberland
and Scotland south of Edinburgh ; and Deira, which
comprised all Yorkshire, and part of Lancashire, Durham,
Westmoreland, and Cumberland.
G. Redwald, king of East Anglia, including Norfolk,
Suffolk, Cambridgeshire, the Isle of Ely, and part of
Bedfordshire.
7. Wibba, san of Crida, king of Mercia, the largest
province of the Heptarchy. It consisted of all the
counties which have not been already specified, with
the exception of those districts which were occupied by
the Britons.
One of the first acts of Queen Bertha on her arrival at
Canterbury, the seat of Ethelbert's government, was to
VIII.] AND QUEEN BERTHA. 67
obtain leave for the celebration of Mass in the little
church of St. Martin, to the east of the city, which had
been built in the time of the Romans, and to this day
bears marks of its extreme antiquity. Here, Luidhard,
the queen's chaplain and confessor, as Gapgrave relates
in his Life, was in the practice of offering the holy Sacri-
fice of the Altar; and " thither," says St. Bede, " the queen
repaired for her devotions." So pious and discreet a
lady could not but bestow many thoughts upon the sad
heathen condition both of her husband and his subjects,
and would naturally desire to emulate the example of
her holy aunts, Clotilda and Ingundis, who were seve-
rally the means of converting their husbands, Clovis
king of Soissons, the founder of the French monarchy,
and St. Hermenegild, prince of Spain ; the one, from
Paganism to Christianity, the other from Arianism to
the Catholic faith. These precedents in her own family,
and that, again, of queen Theodelinda, whose influence
had been similarly blessed in Lombardy, 1 had no doubt
worked upon the mind of good queen Bertha, who had
accordingly the honour, some years after, of being com-
mended by St. Gregory the Great, for the zeal she had
long manifested in the cause of the Church. 2
In such charitable intentions the queen was power-
fully seconded by her confessor, St. Luidhard, whom
Capgrave even calls, for his efforts towards the conversion
of the English, the " harbinger " of St. Augustine. It
seems not unlikely that Luidhard, soon after his arrival
in this country, had made some unsuccessful attempts
to stir up his brother prelates of France in behalf of
the destitute English, since St. Gregory the Great, writ-
ing about this time to Theoderic and Theodebert, kings
1 S. Greg. Ep. lib. xiv. 12. 2 Ib. lib. xi. 29.
68 KING ETHELBERT, [CH.
of the Franks, severely condemns the supineness of their
Church in neglecting to provide for the religious wants of
their neighbours, the Anglo-Saxons, whose "earnest long-
ing for the grace of life, had," he continues, " reached his
ears." 3 This longing is no doubt to be traced to the
influence of queen Bertha and her confessor ; from one
of whom the Pope had probably received his information
upon the promising state of England.
It thus appears that the mission of St. Augustine,
through the great mercy of Divine Providence, was
brought to pass at the very crisis of all others, when mat-
ters in England were in the best train for his reception.
When St. Gregory first projected the English mission,
and had, as we have seen, actually entered upon it,
England was torn asunder by internal war ; now it was
comparatively united under a single head. Then, Ethel-
bert was one of the most insignificant kings of the Hep-
tarchy ; and, if the chronology here followed be correct,
was not even married to Bertha. Now, on the contrary,
from one of the least, he had become the very chief of
the Anglo-Saxon potentates, with authority over the
other kings, and through them over the whole English
nation. Alone, too, of all the kings of the Heptarchy,
he was brought by marriage into immediate contact
with the Church ; and the delay in the execution of
St. Gregory's purpose had allowed time, if not for his
union with Bertha, at least for the ripening of her in-
fluence over him, and for the continued exercise and
display of those endearing qualities of Christian meek-
ness and love, which had not only engaged universal
affection towards her own person, but had likewise con-
ciliated both her husband and his subjects towards the
3 S. Greg. Ep. lib. vi. 58. vid. inf. p. 84, 5.
VIII.] AND QUEEN BERTHA. 69
religion upon which her virtues shed so bright a lustre.
Nor should it be forgotten, that a very unforeseen and
unlikely course of events, had lately placed the supreme,
or all but supreme, power over England, in the hands of
a prince, not merely predisposed by absolutely singular
circumstances towards the reception of the Christian
faith, but the seat of whose government was within a few
miles of the port at which the missionaries must land,
and in whose more immediate dominions they would find
themselves as soon as they set foot on English ground.
Had some decidedly hostile territory intercepted their
progress from the port of their landing to Ethelbert's
kingdom, who can say what hindrances might not have
presented themselves, or whether they would have been so
much as suffered to land at all 1 Even the kindly offices
of the queen sufficed but to procure them bare toleration.
What, then, if they had encountered on their arrival
nothing but the jealousy and suspicion with which bar-
barians and heathens would be apt to regard a body of
adventurers suddenly making their appearance upon the
coast, and demanding entrance into the interior of the
country without ostensible reason, or even intelligible
pretext ? However, it is idle to speculate upon such
contingencies, since we know that He who orders all
things for the good of His elect, never permits real
difficulties to stand in their way. Speculations of this
kind are then only pious, when used to aid and
strengthen the feelings of devout wonder and thank-
fulness, which find scope for their exercise in every
page of the history of our Lord's actual dealings with
His Church, and nowhere more fully than in the annals
of the Church in England.
70 ST. AUGUSTINE j [OH,
CHAPTER IX.
ST. AUGUSTINE j HIS JOURNEY THROUGH FRANCE.
IT was not till the sixth year of St. Gregory's Ponti-
ficate, that he was permitted to carry into effect his
merciful dispositions towards the English nation. It
may be inferred, indeed, from the words of one of his
biographers, 1 that, two years earlier, he made his choice
of the person to whom the conduct of the mission was
to be entrusted. Indeed, from the first moment of his
elevation to the Popedom, he seems to have kept his
heart intently fixed on this great object of his hopes and
prayers, which, however, he was restrained from at-
tempting to compass till "all things were ready" for
the orderly fulfilment of the work. In a letter to
Syagrius, Bishop of Autun, he speaks of the English
mission as having been in his thoughts long before it
was accomplished. 2 And the following letter, written
about a year before the expedition to England, gives
proof of his constant interest in the welfare of our coun-
try. It is addressed to Candidus, a Presbyter, who was
on his way to take charge of the ecclesiastical patrimony
in Gaul.
GREGORY TO CANDIDUS.
" We desire your Affection, to whom has been entrust-
ed, with the help of our Lord Jesus Christ, the control
1 John the Deacon. 2 S. Greg. Ep. lib. ix. 108.
IX.] HIS JOURNEY THROUGH FRANCE. 71
of the patrimony in Gaul, to purchase with the silver
pieces you have received, some clothes for the poor, or
to apply them towards redeeming English boys of the
age of seventeen or eighteen, with a view to their being
placed in monasteries, and brought up to the service of
God. In this way, the Gallic money, which is not cur-
rent in our country, will be usefully laid out in the
proper quarter, If, too, you can make anything of the
revenues which are reported to have been withdrawn,
do so ; and you will meet our wishes, by employing these
also upon the purchase of clothes for the poor, or, as we
have already said, upon the redemption of boys, to be
educated in the service of Almighty God. As those,
however, whom you will find there will be Pagans, I
wish them to be accompanied by a clergyman ; for they
might chance to fall ill on the road ; in which case,
should their disease seem likely to prove mortal, it will
be his duty to baptize them. Your Affection will see
that these our wishes are carried out, and that with all
expedition." 3
The Saint's thoughts are still running upon the
miserable lot of these poor English slaves, victims, both
body and soul, of a cruel and hateful tyranny. Perhaps
he contemplated bringing them up, under his own eye,
in the schools of religion, with a view to their eventual
return to their own country in the capacity of native
missionaries. In any case, when they were lodged at
Rome, their presence, and the testimony they would
bear to the miserable plight of their countrymen, must
have acted as a continual stimulant to the compassion
and zeal of the holy Father. We have already seen,
too, that, from some other quarter, (probably from queen
3 S. Greg. Ep. lib. vi. 7.
72 ST. AUGUSTINE \ [CH.
Bertha, or her confessor, Bishop Luidhard,) St. Gregory
had become cognizant of earnest spiritual cravings
which had been awakened in the hearts of a portion, at
least, of the Anglo-Saxon nation.
In the selection of persons to undertake the conduct of
so momentous an embassy, St. Gregory was naturally
drawn towards St. Andrew's monastery, with which,
though absent in body, he was never otherwise than
intimately present in spirit. He accordingly made
choice of certain brethren of the Society, 4 whose names
have been lost, with the exception of four ; Augustine,
at that time Prior, 5 Lawrence, Peter, and John. The
missionaries received the Apostolical benediction, and
" went on their way rejoicing." It was the summer
of 596, when they left Rome.
The site of St. Andrew's monastery, a spot so full of
interest to Englishmen, is at present occupied by the
church and monastery of S. Gregorio. In front of it
are three detached chapels, built by St. Gregory the
4 St. Bede calls them all "monachos timentes Dominion." (Lib. i.
c. 23.)
5 He is called by St. Gregory prcepositus. Ep. lib. ix. 108. The
Prior in Benedictine monasteries was next under the Abbot. For
an account of his duties, see the Life of St. Stephen Plarding, p. 45. For
the question of the rule by which St. Andrew's monastery was govern-
ed, whether the Benedictine or Equitian, and if the latter, whether
essentially different from the Benedictine, or only a modification of it,
the reader is referred to Baronius, Ann. (A.D. 581) on the one side,
and Mabillon, (Act. Sanct. Bened. vol. i., and Vet. Analecta, p. 499,
and Annales Ord. S. Bened. vol. i. lib. vi.) who follows Reynerus
(Apostolatus Bened. in Anglia) on the other. The point is also exa-
mined in the Life of St. Gregory the Great, collected from his writ-
ings, and prefixed to the Benedictine edition of his works. A short
account of the controversy, with farther references, will be found in
a learned note of the Rev. Alban Butler, appended to his Life of St.
Gregory the Great. (March 12.)
IX.] HIS JOURNEY THROUGH FRANCE. 73
Great himself, and restored by Cardinal Baronius ; the
first dedicated to God, under the patronage of St. Sylvia,
St. Gregory's mother ; the s'econd, under that of St. An-
drew the Apostle ; and the third, of St. Barbara. The
last of the three contains a statue of St. Gregory, and in
it is preserved the table to which the Saint was daily
in the practice of inviting, through his sacristan, twelve
poor pilgrims. On the portico of the church is an in-
scription recording, that from that House " went forth
the first Apostles of the Anglo-Saxons." 6
His Holiness the present Pope, St. Gregory's namesake
as well as successor, was an inmate of this House till
he attained the dignity of Cardinal.
Of St. Augustine's earlier history absolutely nothing is
known, but the fact, which in itself speaks volumes, of
his intimate connexion with a Society which always oc-
cupied so chief a place in the affections and prayers of
the great St. Gregory ; and of his selection by that holy
Pontiff, after years of anxious thought, and watchful ob-
servation, as the worthiest person who could be found
for the work and ministry of an Apostle.
The missionaries took ship at one of the Italian ports,
and landed probably at Marseilles, whence they pro-
ceeded on to Aix in Provence. Here they fell in with
persons who made disheartening reports of the country
towards which they were bending their steps. "It lay,"
they said, " beyond a sea of difficult navigation ; the
inhabitants, besides being idolaters, were savages of un-
couth manners and barbarous speech ; a cruel death
would certainly await them on their arrival, if suffered
to land at all ; but in all likelihood they would never
set foot in the country ; and even at last, supposing
6 Hand-book of Travellers in Central Italy, 1843. Wiseman's
Lectures on the Church.
74 ST. AUGUSTINE j [CH.
other hindrances overcome, what chance had they of
getting such a people to listen to them 1"
In all this there need hare been nothing new and
strange to the missionaries ; but, in the first glow 01
their enthusiasm, they had forgotten, as is so often the
case, to count all the cost. One obstacle, indeed, to
the work had, to all appearance, been fairly overlooked
the difference of language ; no insurmountable obstacle,
indeed, if we remember that God's arm is not shortened
since the days of the Apostles ; yet one which it
was undoubtedly the part of Christian prudence to an-
ticipate. For miraculous gifts are too precious to be
wasted; and besides,, miracles are designed to supply,
not the omissions of indolence, or the mistakes of im-
prudence, but the short-comings of man's natural power,
when taken at its best and exerted to its utmost. And
again ; while the faith of the Saints ever disposes them
to expect supernatural interference on the whole, their
humility discourages them from looking out for it in
their own instances ; so that none will be less apt to
reckon upon the event of its bestowal than those for
whose help it is most apt to be bestowed. When the
Apostles of our Lord went forth, they provided, it is
true, " neither purse nor scrip ;" but this was at His
special bidding. How acceptable to Him was this work
of His servant, St. Gregory, He abundantly testified
by the displays of Divine power with which He accom-
panied it, and the fruits of sanctity with which He
finally blessed it. Yet the Saint would by no means
rely upon those direct interventions of help (which yet
in the end were so bountifully accorded), so as wilfully
to neglect any of the ordinary provisions against neces-
sity, or requisites towards success. We shall see, accord-
ingly, that the check which the enterprise seemed to
IX.] HIS JOURNEY THROUGH FRANCE. 75
receive at its outset by the occurrence at Aix, had no
other effect upon St. Gregory's calm and prepared mind
than to put him upon adopting fresh precautions, and
especially upon endeavouring to engage the good offices
of the Gallican Court and Episcopate in behalf of the
disheartened missionaries. Among other steps which he
seems to have taken in consequence of the difficulties
raised at Aix, was that of procuring French Presbyters
to accompany the monks to England, and act as their in-
terpreters with the natives. It may be remarked, in pass-
ing, how strikingly all this is illustrative of the differ-
ence between true Catholic zeal and even the more ami-
able, and, in their measure, venerable forms of fanaticism.
The proceedings of the missionaries in France are
matter rather of conjecture than of history ; but it would
appear by the evidence of St. Gregory's Letters, that
from Aix they went to the celebrated monastery of
Lerins, situated on one of the little islands off the
coast which lies between Antibes and Frejus. From ,
this place, Augustine (who, as Prior of St. Andrew's,
held the chief rank among the missionaries, though
without, as yet, any formal authority over his brethren)
set sail for Italy to lay the distresses of his companions
before St. Gregory with a view to the abandonment of so
unpromising an enterprise.
It has, perhaps, been too hastily assumed by some
of the biographers of St. Augustine, that he was a party
to the misgivings of his companions. One would not,
without clear proof, impute even weaknesses to those
on whom the Church has set the seal of sanctity j and,
in the present case, the supposition that Augustine
expressed his own feelings as well as represented those
of his companions in supplicating for a recall, seems
more or less gratuitous. The words of St. Bede do not
7G ST. AUGUSTINE; [CH.
necessarily implicate the Saint himself in the doubts
and apprehensions of his brethren. After speaking of
the alarm excited in the body of missionaries generally,
by the adverse reports, he continues : " Without loss of
time they send home Augustine (whom Gregory had
destined for their Bishop, in the event of their favour-
able reception in England) to entreat his leave to give up
an expedition so full of peril, labour, and uncertainty."
If, as seems most probable, St. Augustine left his
companions either at or within reach of the Monastery
of Lerins, it may well be supposed that the delay caused
by his absence was far more than made up by the
opportunities which it gave them of perfecting their
as yet immature faith in the midst of monastic quiet
and devotion. In a Society of kindred spirit and rule
to that in which their own holy resolutions had been
formed and blessed, they must have felt like persons
breathing their native air after illness. How many
sobering, yet stirring recollections must have arisen to
calm at once and freshen their spirits ! This is an
especial boon of the Church, to create, not one, but ten
thousand homes for her children. It is pleasant to
think that one of those many " abodes of peace" which
have sprung out of the monastic institute, was ready
to open wide its gates to these tempest-tost and home-
sick travellers, and that no less an one than the asylum
which furnished the solace of St. Vincentius' declining
yearsJ
7 Fleury, on the other hand, conjectures, that the monks of Lerins
were the " maledici homines"* who tried to set the holy missionaries
against the expedition to England. As, however, he adds his reason
for this conjecture, it may be allowed us without presumption to argue
against it. He infers, then, from St. Gregory not commending Augus-
* St. Bede.
IX.] HIS JOURNEY THROUGH FRANCE. 77
When Augustine reached the feet of his master, he
did not fail to report, among other and less welcome
intelligence, the kind and hospitable reception with
which himself and his companions had met at the hands
of the Gallican prelates and ecclesiastics, more espe-
cially Protasius, Bishop of Aix in Provence, Arigius,
Bishop of Marseilles, and Stephen, Abbot of Lerins ;
and by the letter of which he was, on his return, the
bearer, from St. Gregory to Stephen, it appears that
he had himself been an eye-witness of the order which
reigned in the Society of which Stephen had the direc-
tion. The letter is as follows :
GREGORY TO STEPHEN, ABBOT.
" Augustine, servant of God, and the bearer of this,
has rejoiced our heart by the report he brings of
your Affection's persevering and most commendable
tine to the care of Stephen, Abbot of Lerins, that he was dissatisfied
with the reception previously given to his missionaries in that mon-
astery. But surely St. Gregory's is a letter, not of recommendation,
but of acknowledgement. He had no need to ask favours which had
already been forthcoming without reserve. There is a like absence
of recommendation in the letter to Protasius, Bishop of Aix, by
whom also the missionaries had been kindly received on St. Au-
gustine's first visit to France. It is hardly probable that since the
monks of Lerins had already (as appears from St. Gregory's letter
to the Abbot Stephen) entertained St. Augustine and his companions,
the latter would be left by their hosts during the absence of their
leader (which must have extended to some weeks at the least)
to fare as they could at the public inns ; especially when we consider
how mindful religious communities have ever been of the promise,
" Whoever shall give you to drink a cup of cold water in My name,
because you belong to Christ he shall not lose his reward."
[Since writing the above, I observe that Mabillon speaks positively
of St. Augustine's companions having remained at Lerins during his
absence.]
78 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH,
vigilance ; and by telling us that the Presbyters, Dea-
cons, 8 and whole congregation live together as men of
one mind. And, since the good regulation of the body
depends upon the virtues of 'the Superior, our prayer
is, that Almighty God may, of His great mercy, kindle
in you the flame of good works, and guard all those
who are committed to your care against every tempta-
tion of the Devil's malice ; granting them all love towards
you, and such a conversation as is well-pleasing in His
sight.
" But since the Enemy of mankind desists not from
laying snares for our ruin, yea, rather labours assiduously
to seduce, in some weak part or other, those souls which
are pledged to God, we exhort you, dearest brother, to
exercise your watchful care without ceasing, and so
to guard those committed to you by prayer and anxious
forethought, that this roaming wolf may find no oppor-
tunity of tearing your flock in pieces. So, when you
shall have restored in safety to God the charge which
you have received from Him, may He, of His grace,
bestow upon you the rewards of your labour, and
multiply your aspirations after eternal life.
" We have received the spoons and platters 9 which
you have forwarded, and we thank your Charity, for
thus shewing your love of the poor, in transmitting
necessaries for their use." l
8 It thus appears, says the Benedictine editor of St. Gregory, that
there were many Clergy in this as in other monasteries.
9 Circulos.
1 S. Greg. Ep. lib. vi. 56. Stephen did not continue through life
to justify St. Gregory's good opinion of him. Five years later, we
find the Saint writing to Cono, Abbot of Lerins, of the sorrow which
his predecessor's (Stephen's) imprudence and remissness had often
caused him. (Ep. lib. xi. 12.) Hence some would take the letter to
Stephen as a mere admonition, which its tenor by no means justi-
IX.] HIS JOURNEY THROUGH FRANCE. 79
The concluding sentence of this letter, though irrele-
vant to the present purpose, is far from being the least
interesting and characteristic portion of it.
St. Gregory wrote at the same time to Protasius,
Bishop of Aix in Provence.
" The ardour of your affection to St. Peter, Prince of
the Apostles, is not only guaranteed by the require-
ments of your office, but is also evident from the devo-
tion which you actually manifest in the cause of the
Church. This we know from the report of Augustine,
servant of God, and the bearer of this letter ; and we
are proportionately rejoiced at the tokens of your earn-
estness and zeal for the Truth. Though absent from
us in body, you have shown that you are united with
us in heart ; for you exhibit towards us that brotherly
charity which is meet."
To Arigius, Bishop of Marseilles, St. Gregory wrote
nearly in the same terms.
The arguments by which the holy Pontiff sought to
restore the confidence of the missionaries, and the mea-
sures which he proposed for securing order and unan-
imity among them, are contained in a letter forwarded
to them by the hands of Augustine. 2
" TO THE BRETHREN ON THEIR WAY TO ENGLAND.
" Gregory, servant of the servants of God, to his
brethren, servants of our Lord Jesus Christ.
" Since it had been better not to enter upon good
designs than to think of withdrawing from them when
undertaken, meet is it, my dearest sons, that you
fies. The probability is, either that St. Gregory was ignorant of
facts, or that Stephen afterwards fell off.
2 S. Greg. Ep. lib. vi. 51.
80 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
set yourselves with all possible alacrity, to fulfil this
good work, which, with the Lord's help, you have begun.
Suffer not the difficulties of the journey, nor the reports
of calumnious men, to shake you in your resolution ;
but, with all eagerness and fervour, carry through what,
at God's suggestion, you have undertaken, knowing that
the greater your labours, the more abundant will be
the glory of your everlasting reward. Augustine, your
Prior, returns to you with our authority to govern
you as your Abbot ; obey him in all things with lowli-
ness. Be assured that whatever you do in conformity
to his directions, will tell to the profit of your souls.
May Almighty God shield you with His grace, and
grant me to behold the fruit of your exertions in our
everlasting country ! that so, though I am denied a
part in your labours, I may be found the associate of
your reward ; since, had I my wish, I would labour
with you. May God take you, my dearest sons, into
His keeping.
" Dated this 23rd day of July, in the fourteenth year
of the reign of the most religious Emperor, our lord
Mauricius Tiberius Augustus, and the thirteenth from
the consulship of the same our lord ; and of the Indic-
tion, 14." 3
3 The Indiction (fors. ab indictis tributis et vectigalibus) was a
cycle of fourteen years, said by some to have been instituted by Con-
stantine the Great in 31*2. There were several of these cycles; the
Constantinopolitan, according to which the years of St. Gregory's
Pontificate are reckoned, began on the 1st. of September. (S. Am-
brosii Ep. ad Episcopos TEmilise class i. 23. Ed. Bened. De Noe et
Area, c. ] 7.) The date of the Indiction, according to the Benedic-
tine Editors of St. Gregory, was not put to the acts of any Council
before that of Chalcedon in 451, nor used by any Pope before St.
Gregory the Great. It was first used in state papers of France
(Mabillon, de re diplomatica) at the beginning of cent. 9.
IX.] HIS JOURNEY THROUGH FRANCE. 81
It may, perhaps, be gathered from this letter, that
want of discipline was, in some measure, the cause of
the troubles which St. Gregory was called upon to heal.
Augustine's companions were probably younger than
himself. Trained, as they had been, perhaps from boy-
hood, in a monastery, their minds were peculiarly in
danger of being thrown off their balance by disturbing
rumours. It was one of St. Benedict's wise regulations,
that his monks were not to retail in community the
stories which might chance to reach them from without.
At all events, so long as these brothers of St. Andrew's
were living together under the same roof, their lawful
superiors would make it a point of duty to guide and
govern their judgment of practical subjects in general.
But it is likely enough that, when on their travels,
matters fell somewhat into disorder, and that St. Augus-
tine was neither allowed, nor perhaps altogether dis-
posed, to interfere with the course of thought and con-
versation around him. It is not impossible then, that,
while at Rome, he may have asked for ampler powers
and a more definite authority. Be this as it may, the
entire confidence accorded and claimed for him in St.
Gregory's letter to his companions, is a proof that his
own equanimity had been fully restored either before,
or during, his interview with his master.
And surely if words of man could avail to reinstate
these fainting souls in their hope, such must have been
the effect of that touching sentence in the holy Father's
address, " Had I my wish, I would labour with you."
St. Gregory the Great was now drawing towards his
sixtieth year ; he had reached the zenith of ecclesiastical
power, which men miscall greatness ; he had his legates
in courts, and his officers in provinces ; he had many
under him, but none above him here on earth ; he was
G
82 ST. AUGUSTINE j [CH.
chief among Bishops and a Bishop over kings ; through-
out the Christian world his wish was motive, and his
word, authority ; yet here is St. Gregory the Great will-
ing, nay, eager, had such been his Lord's appointment, to
withdraw from privileges so august, and powers so com-
manding ; to exchange the diadem for the cowl, and the
throne for the highway ; for the sympathy of intimates
to receive the cold looks of strangers, and the repulses
of men in power for the deference of vassals. And St.
Gregory the Great, as his history shews, was no random
speaker, or hollow professor.
St. Augustine, besides the letter to his companions,
was the bearer of others commendatory of himself and
his brethren to the kind offices of the prelates and
sovereign princes of that part of Gaul through which
their road lay. To the Bishops of Tours and Marseilles,
the Pope addressed a letter which bears the same date
with that to the English missionaries; July 23, A. D.
596.
" GREGORY TO PELAGIUS BISHOP OF TOURS, AND SERENUS
BISHOP OF MARSEILLES, BOTH IN FRANCE. A DUPLICATE. 4
" Though with priests full of the charity which God
loves, religious men need no recommendation, yet as
the present seems a suitable time for writing, we have
caused this our communication to be addressed to your
Brotherhood, to intimate to you that, under the Divine
guidance, and for the benefit of souls, we have appointed
the bearer of this, Augustine, servant of God, (of whose
affection we are well assured,) in company with others
of God's servants, to a distant mission. 5 Your Holiness
4 A paribus.
5 Illuc. The name of the country to which the missionaries were
bound, is apparently avoided as a precaution.
IX.] HIS JOURNEY THROUGH FRANCE. 83
must help him, out of your priestly kindness, and lose
no time in affording him such solace as is in your power.
And, in order that you may be the rather disposed to
give him the benefit of your friendly interest, he has
instructions from us to acquaint you precisely 6 with the
occasion of his journey ; for we are satisfied that, when
it shall become known to you, you will adapt yourself,
with all devotion towards God, to the urgent circum-
stances which place him in need of your consolation." 7
St. Gregory writes nearly in the same terms to Vir-
gilius, Archbishop of Aries, and Metropolitan ; and to
Desiderius and Syagrius, Bishops, respectively, of Vienne
and Autun.
Besides these commendatory letters to the Church,
the Pope sought to obtain a safe-conduct for his mis-
sionaries by means of addresses to the chief civil autho-
rities. Their course lay through the territories of Theo-
deric and his brother Theodebert, kings of Burgundy
and Austrasia, 8 the former of whom had his seat of go-
vernment at Chalons, the latter at Rheims ; and Augus-
tine was furnished, on his return, with credentials to
both of these young princes.
" GREGORY TO THEODERIC AND THEODEBERT, BROTHERS,
KINGS OF THE FRANKS. A DUPLICATE.
" Since Almighty God has adorned your kingdom
with orthodoxy of faith, and caused it to be conspicuous
6 Subtiliter.
7 S. Greg. Ep. lib. vi. 52.
8 Theoderic was the second, and Theodebert the elder, son of Chil-
debert, to whose dominions they succeeded on the death of their
father in 569, the year in which they are thus addressed by St. Gre-
gory. It would seem from history that the elder of the two was not
at this time more than ten years of age. Their dominions were admi-
84 ST. AUGUSTINE j [CH.
among other nations, for the purity in which it holds
the Christian religion, we have conceived strong grounds
of hope that you will wish your subjects to be entirely
brought over to the Faith which is the bond of your
relation towards them as their lords and governors.
Now it has reached us, that the English nation has been
led by the mercy of God to an ardent longing for con-
version to the faith of Christ, but that the priests of the
neighbouring country are negligent, and omit to supply
fuel to the flame of their holy desires, by means of such "
exhortations as they might employ. For this reason
it is, that we have taken measures for sending Augus-
tine, servant of God, and the bearer of this letter (of
whose zeal and affection we are well assured), in com-
pany with others of God's servants to these parts. And
we have also given them instructions to take with them
some presbyters of the neighbouring country, with whose
assistance they may be able to sound the dispositions
of the new people, and help their good intentions, so far
as God gives them the power. And, in order that they
may prove themselves meet and able for this ministry,
we entreat your Excellency, whom we greet with all
fatherly affection, to extend to those who bear our com-
mission, the benefit of such countenance as you shall
deem to befit them. And, as it is a case in which souls
are at stake, may your influence protect and aid them,
that so Almighty God, who knows you to give this com-
fort with a devout heart and a pure zeal in His cause,
may take all your proceedings under His care, and lead
you safe through earthly power to His Kingdom in
heaven."9
nistered during their minority by Bnmcliault (Bnmichildis) their
grandmother, of whom below.
9 S. Greg. Ep. lib. vi. 58.
IX.] HIS JOURNEY THROUGH FRANCE. 85
Augustine was the bearer of another letter, addressed
to Brunehault, the queen-regent/ which ran as follows.
" GREGORY TO BRUNEHAULT, QUEEN OF THE FRANKS.
" Your Christian Excellency is so well known to us,
that we can by no means doubt of your goodness ; but
rather hold it as quite unquestionable, that, in the cause
of the Faith, you will devotedly and zealously cooperate
with us, and supply, in the largest abundance, the con-
solations which we have reason to expect from a religion
so sincere. In this confidence, we greet you out of our
fatherly affection, and make known to you, that the
English nation, according to reports which have reached
us, has a desire, under God's inspiration, to become
Christian, but that the priests of the neighbouring
country are wanting in pastoral solicitude towards them.
Accordingly, that these souls may be rescued from ever-
lasting perdition, we have undertaken to commission
to this charge, Augustine, servant of God, and the bearer
of this (of whose zeal and affection we are well assured),
in company with others of God's servants ; for we are
desirous of learning through them, the disposition of
the people, and, with your assistance, of taking means,
as far as may be, for their conversion. We have also
instructed them that it will be their duty to take with
them some presbyters from the neighbouring country.
Will your Excellency, then, who is apt to be forward
1 Brunehault was daughter of Athanagild, king of the Visigoths,
and in 566 became the wife of Sigebert, king of Metz. The fruit of
this marriage was Childebert, father of the aforementioned Theodebert
and Theoderic, for whom Brunehault acted as regent at the time of
St. Augustine's mission. History imputes many foul crimes to this
princess, which it is hardly possible to reconcile with St. Gregory's
language towards her.
86 ST. AUGUSTINE j [CH.
in all good works, condescend, both in compliance with
our request and out of regard to God's fear, to consider
him as commended to you in all things ; to bestow on
him zealously the favour of your protection, and the
benefit of your patronage in his labours 1 And, in order
to render your recompense complete, will you furnish
him with a safe-conduct on his way to the above-
mentioned English people ? So may our God, who,
in this world has adorned you with works well pleasing
to Him, grant you both here, and in the place of ever-
lasting rest, to rejoice with his Saints." 2
St. Gregory's letters furnish us with a clue to the line
of road which the missionaries must have taken on their
way through France. Augustine, now fortified in his
purpose by his visit to Rome, rejoined his brethren at
Lerins, where he delivered his letter to the Abbot
Stephen. The missionaries may be supposed to have
then proceeded to Aix, and thence to Aries, at both of
which cities, they had an introduction to the respective
prelates, Pelagius and Yirgilius. From Aries, their road
lay by Vienne, the Bishop of which was Desiderius (to
whom they were also recommended), to Chalons, where
queen Brunehault was residing with her son Theoderic
king of Burgundy. The queen gave the holy monks
a very handsome reception ; for which St. Gregory ex-
pressed his acknowledgments in a letter of four years
later date. 3 They next went to Autun, the see of
Syagrius, to whom they carried letters ; and then
perhaps made a diversion to Rheims, the court of
Theodebert, king of Austrasia. They afterwards pro-
ceeded by Sens (where they found the Bishop, Palla-
dius, with whom St. Gregory was in habits of corres-
2 S. Greg. Ep. lib. vi. 59. 3 S. Greg. Ep. lib. ix. 11.
IX.] HIS JOURNEY THEOUGH FRANCE. 87
pondence) to Tours, where they had a special recom-
mendation to Pelagius. At Tours, they would not fail
to visit the tomb and relics of the great St. Martin.
Thence they descended towards the coast, through
Anjou, which was the scene, according to St. Augus-
tine's biographer, of several remarkable occurrences. At
the town of Ce near the bridge of that name, the appear-
ance of the missionaries caused a disturbance, which
ended in their being expelled from the town, and
obliged to pass the night in the open air. In this fray,
the women of the place took a principal part ; they
ran about in a wild disorderly manner, filled the air
with frantic shrieks, and even proceeded to acts of
violence against the meek and unoffending strangers.
One of them, more shameless than the rest, is said to
have approached Augustine and menaced his life. The
Saint instinctively seized a javelin to protect himself,
as if against some wild beast ; the javelin sprang from
his hand as an arrow from a bow, and fixed itself in the
ground three furlongs off. The Saint followed it, and,
on plucking it from the earth, a pure and abundant
spring of water gushed forth, to the joy of the mission-
aries, and the confusion of their enemies. It is also
added that, during the night, the ground on which
the holy monks reposed, was illuminated by a su-
pernatural light ; as though God would " shew some
token upon them for good, that they who hated them,
might see it and be ashamed." At the sight of these
wonders, the infuriated populace " changed their minds,
and said that they were divinities ;" at least, they set
themselves, when St. Augustine was gone, to build a
church in his honour, " which," says Mabillon, " is still
to be seen with the spring, and a priory dedicated to
St. Outin (or Augustine)."
88 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
It is added, that the first woman who attempted to
enter this church, was smitten dead at the door ; and
that none of the females of Aix could afterwards be
induced to pass the fatal threshold ; counting the cala-
mity, as well they might, for a judgement upon their
impious usage of a Saint beloved of God. Before St.
Augustine left Anjou, he is said to have received a
visit of consolation from the Bishop of the diocese.
In Anjou, the missionaries would be no great way
from the British Channel ; to whose billows they would
commit themselves in security, under the happy con-
sciousness of possessing a share in their Lord's benedic-
tion ; " Omnis qui reliquerit domum, vel fratres, aut
sorores, aut patrem, aut matrem, aut uxorem, aut filios,
aut agros, propter Nomen Meum, centuplum accipiet,
et vitam seternam possidebit." 4
4 S. Matt. xix. 29.
X.] ST. AUGUSTINE IN THANET. 89
CHAPTER X.
ST. AUGUSTINE IN THANET.
FEW parts of our country have been more changed
by the progress of time than the little Isle of Thanet.
It was anciently much larger than now : Gocelin, St.
Augustine's biographer, calls it, possibly from want of
accurate information, " very large ;" 1 Venerable Bede,
" considerable ;" 2 and the latter assigns it an extent
materially beyond its present acreage. 3 Its insular cha-
racter, too, though still remaining, is much less apparent
than in very old times ^ for the river which now divides
it from the coast of Kent, is so inconsiderable as rather
to deserve the name of a stream, or even a brook. In
the time of St. Bede, this river, though even then
degenerated from its original size and bulk, and called,
in token of its comparative scantiness, the " Wantsum,"
or " Deficient Water," was still upwards of a quarter
of a mile in breadth. It was, in fact, rather an inlet
of the sea than a river, although two rivers, the Stour
and the Nethergong, contributed to the main body of
water. But the channel derived its chief import-
ance from the sea, which, at high tide, formed itself
a passage between the northern and south-western
extremities of the island j the Genlade, near Keculver,
1 Proegrandis. 2 Non modica.
3 Sexcentarum familiarum, which is computed at 60,000 acres;
whereas, Hasted, at the close of the last century, reckons its extent
at 26,500 acres, which agrees with present calculations. Possibly the
word " sexcenti " is put, according to later usage, for an indefinitely
large number.
90 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
on the one side, and the port of Eichborough (the
Eutupium of the Romans) on the other. The whole
of this wide channel went, anciently, by the name of
the Portus Eutupinus. The usual course for vessels
on their way from France to London, was to enter at
the port of Eichborough, and, proceeding round the
Isle of Thanet, to come out at the Genlade, where
they would find themselves in the estuary of the
Thames. Such, however, as were bound for Kent,
deposited their cargo at the little town of Ebbesfleet,
which lay on the north-eastern side of Eichborough
harbour. Ebbesfleet may be seen in maps of the Isle
of Thanet ; lying between four and five miles on the
present road from Eamsgate to Sandwich. It consists
at this time but of one or two inconsiderable houses,
far enough from the sea to be almost out of sight of
it. About two miles from Eamsgate, at Cliffs-end, the
appearance of the coast, as is well known, suddenly
changes, the precipitous white cliffs terminating in a
perfectly level shore. Ebbesfleet, where St. Augustine
is believed to have landed, is somewhat farther on,
and is now, as we have already said, more than two
miles within the island, the sea having, in later times,
retreated from its ancient boundary on this side of
Thanet, as much as it is reported to have gained on it
in the neighbourhood of Eeculver, where very old
people can remember having played at cricket on
ground which has now quite disappeared. Hasted,
the historian of Kent, considers that " on the northern
and eastern side of the island the sea must have washed
away many hundred acres (not to say thousands) if
it has encroached for the seven hundred years before
in proportion to its advances in the last one hundred
and fifty. On the south and west parts, however, there
X.] ST. AUGUSTINE IN THANET. 91
are some hundreds of acres now dry land which were
anciently all under water, and a navigable stream, where
the sea ebbed and flowed." 4 Tracts of low marshy land
occupy the place of the ancient harbour of Richborough ;
and the River Stour, which was formerly lost in the
ampler tide of the great Rutupian channel, is now seen
languidly working its way by a tortuous course, through
the marshes and sandbanks, till it finds an outlet in
the sea a little to the east of Sandwich.
It was, probably, in the spring of the year 597,
that Augustine and his companions (increased by the
addition of the interpreters whom they had taken up
in France, to the number of forty persons) first set foot
on English ground. The important spot seems to have
been known and venerated by our Catholic ancestors j
the stone which first received the impression of the
feet of those who came to preach the Gospel of peace
in our beloved country, having, we are told, been reli-
giously preserved as a precious memento in the Chapel
of St. Augustine's Monastery at Canterbury.
The missionaries had no sooner landed, than one or
two of their body proceeded, (in company with the
French interpreters, whom, by St. Gregory's desire, they
had brought over with them,) to Canterbury, where they
duly acquainted king Ethelbert with the fact and
object of their arrival. Great was the joy with which
the good Bertha beheld the dawn of a day which she
had long desired to see, and for the gift of which she
had breathed many a secret prayer in the little church
of St. Martin. He who had been her associate in this
delightful hope, the hope of seeing a way opened for the
conversion of England, the good Bishop, St. Luidhard,
4 History of Kent, vol. iv. pp. 291, 292, 294.
92 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
had gone to his glory a few months earlier; 5 not ignorant,
probably, before he was taken from the world below, of
the approach of the blessed missionaries to England, but
still uncertain of the issue of their perilous and pro-
tracted journey. Was he not withdrawn in mercy at
that critical juncture, to offer, for the objects of his care,
and the partners of his zeal, a more confident, more
intelligent, more unembarrassed, more prevailing prayer
than the hindrances of this dark and sinful state allow ;
and to take under the shelter of his patronage, as a
glorified Saint, those on whom before he could but
bestow the far feebler aid of a fellow-sinner's sympathy ?
Such thoughts, at least, however alien to the spirit
of modern times, were undoubtedly those in which the
unsophisticated mind of queen Bertha found its best
solace under the removal from her sight of so trusty
a counsellor and friend ; a loss which must have pressed
heavily upon her at a time when there were none
around her " like-minded," and such as would naturally
" care for the state " of the poor Anglo-Saxons. At
that dreary moment St. Augustine must have seemed
to her like an emissary from St. Luidhard, charged with
a message of consolation and encouragement.
King Ethelbert gave the deputies a favourable hear-
ing, and instructed them to prepare their master for
seeing him at the coast on a future day. In the mean-
time, he sent orders that the mysterious strangers
should be hospitably treated. It was impossible but
that Ethelbert, during the years of his affectionate
intercourse with Bertha, must have learned to regard
the Christian religion with some better feelings than
5 Vid. Gallia Christiana, vol. x. p. 1382, where he is said to have
died in ,596, the year before St. Augustine's arrival.
X.] ST. AUGUSTINE IN THANET. 93
those of mere indifference ; though up to this time,
and for some months afterwards, he continued to join
in the Pagan ceremonies at his private chapel, the
little church of St. Pancras, while his queen was attend-
ing mass at St. Martin's ; unless, indeed, as seems more
than probable, the public solemnities of religion had
been latterly interrupted by the death of St. Luidhard,
and the queen compelled to offer her prayers in the
secrecy of her own private apartment.
After some days, king Ethelbert proceeded to the
Isle of Thanet, and met St. Augustine, according to
tradition, at Bichborough. He took his seat in the
open air, and summoned the Saint into his presence,
not wishing, says the historian, to trust himself under
the same roof with strangers whom he suspected of
magical arts. Even the darkest superstition has its
redeeming features ; its pious misgivings, and its holier
auguries ; however, as in this instance, preposterously
misplaced. For " they came (proceeds St. Bede, with
his usual sweet and touching simplicity) " not fur-
nished with diabolical arts, but endowed with gifts
from on high." 6
No sooner were the king's arrival and summons made
known, than the missionaries gathered together their
little hoard of Catholic emblems, which were confined
to such symbols only as befitted the character, and cor-
responded to the needs, of a wayfaring Church. These
were, a tall silver cross, 7 the accompaniment, from very
6 Lib. i. c. 25.
7 The crucifix was probably not introduced till more than a century
later ; it was sanctioned at the Quinisexan Council in 692. In the
earliest ages all representations of our Lord on the cross were disr
countenanced out of regard to the prejudices of heathens, to whom
94 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
ancient times, of all solemn religious processions, and
a large board, or canvass, on which was painted, in the
rude style of the time, a figure of our Blessed Redeemer.
Having provided themselves with these sacred badges, so
significant of aggression upon the world and triumph
over it, they formed into a procession, (which, consider-
ing their numbers, must have presented no mean appear-
ance,) and so advanced towards the place of reception.
Those who have visited Richborough and the parts
adjacent, will be aware how peculiarly favourable to
what may be called the effect of such a scene are the
characteristics of the surrounding country ; destitute as
it is, almost to barrenness, of trees, and, from its natural
situation, a spot which must always have been unpro-
pitious to their growth. The course of centuries, with
all its transforming influences, cannot affect the pro-
perties of the ocean, nor alter the points of the compass ;
sea air and east winds must ever work their withering
effects upon verdure and foliage ; however, in more
inland districts, wastes may have taken the place of
forests, and pastures now smile where swamps formerly
looked chilL Surely Richborough could never have
been otherwise than a cold dreary spot. As we stand,
then, beside the shattered walls of its old castle, that
unpicturesque and legendless ruin, and tread upon
its vast cruciform pavement (in which the Catholic
imagination would fain trace a memorial of St. Augus-
tine's landing, or interview with Ethelbert, till checked in
its flight by some stern and truthful antiquary, assuring
us that what looks like the spacious area of a church, was,
" Christ crucified" was a " stumbling-block." The blessings of
redemption were accordingly symbolized under the image of a lamb
bearing a cross. Pictures of the Crucifixion then came into use, and
ultimately figures carved in wood, &c.
X.] ST. AUGUSTINE IN THANET. 95
in fact, but the upper surface of the vaulting of a Roman
granary) the eye may help the mind to form no inac-
curate picture of the memorable scene before us. Behold,
then, the prince, on whose decision, humanly speaking,
the religious destinies of England seem to hang, seated,
with his court around him, on such sorry rustic throne
as the time and place supplied, to receive the Ambas-
sadors of Peace. The region is so bare of trees and
houses, that the eye can catch a sight of the scanty,
yet well-marshalled and orderly procession, from the
time when it is first on its march, and follow it as it
grows into distinctness, and opens into v twice twenty
spare and way-worn forms, clothed in the dark uniform
of the Benedictine order. At their head, preceded by
the cross-bearer, is one of statelier mien and more
majestic bearing than his fellows ; " higher than any
of the people from his shoulders and upward," 8 but
withal of sweet though reverend countenance. Louder
and louder, yet solemn and subdued when loudest, the
notes of a plaintive, monotonous chant, 9 swell upon
the ear ; drowned, perhaps, at short intervals, by the
heavy dash of the tide, or alternating, (for could Nature
wear angry looks and seem to utter chiding words
that gracious day 3) with its hushed and as if respectful
breathings. As the train nears the place of reception,
the words of the chant become faintly audible, and
disclose a prayer for mercy upon England. "Was there
not an unseen choir bearing part the while in those
solemn tones of supplication ? Were there not angelic
8 See the description of St. Augustine's person at the end of
Gocelin's life. (Bollandists, 26 May.)
9 The reformation of the ecclesiastical chant, which is due to St.
Gregory the Great, took place shortly before St. Augustine's mission.
9G ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
assistants at that devout offering, to present it, as
incense, before the Mercy-seat on high ? Was holy
Alban, think you, England's protomartyr, absent from
that solemnity, and mute in that chorus of suppliant
voices ? Or Germanus, her zealous champion, or they
who first encountered perils by sea and land to plant
the cross in her soil ?
At length the procession stopped, and the chant
ceased. The king bade the Missionaries be seated ;
and Augustine is said to have addressed him to the
following effect :
" Your everlasting peace, king, and that of your
kingdom, is the object we desire to promote in coming
hither ; we bring you, as we have already made known,
tidings of never-ending joy. If you receive them, you
will be blessed for ever, both here and in the Kingdom
which is without end. The Creator and Redeemer of the
world has opened to mankind the Kingdom of Heaven
and of citizens of the earth makes men inhabitants of a
celestial city. For God so loved the world that He
gave His Only-begotten Son for the world, even as that
Only-begotten testifies, that all who believe in Him,
should not perish but have everlasting life. For with
so boundless a love did the same Son of God love the
world, His creatures, as not only to become Man among
men, but to deign to suffer death for men, even the
death of the Cross. For so pleased it His unspeakable
clemency to bruise the Devil, not in the majesty of his
own Divine Nature, but in the weakness of our flesh,
and so to snatch us, the worthy prey of the Evil one,
by the unworthy punishment of the Cross, from the jaws
of that most wicked prince. Whose Incarnate Deity
was manifested by innumerable displays of power, by
X.] ST. AUGUSTINE IN THANET. 97
the healing of all diseases, and the performance of all
virtues. He shewed Himself God and Lord over the
sky, stars, earth, sea, and hell. He calmed, by His
authority, the winds and the sea : He trod the waves
of the sea, as though they had been a solid plain ; at
length, deigning as Man to die for men, on the third
day He rose from the dead as God ; and, by His Efful-
gence, adorned with brighter light the sun, which had
been darkened at the death of its Creator. He rose, I say,
that He might raise us ; He ascended into the Heavens,
that He might gather us together there in triumph.
From thence He shall come as Judge of all the world,
that He may place believers in His Kingdom, and con-
demn unbelievers for ever. Do not, therefore, most
illustrious king, regard us as superstitious, because we
have been at pains to come from Rome to your domi-
nions for the sake of your salvation and that of your
subjects, and to force upon an unknown people benefits,
as it were, against their will. Be assured, most loving
king, that we have purposed this, constrained by the
necessity of great love. For we long, beyond all the
desires and glory of the world, to have as many fellow-
citizens with us as we can in the Kingdom of our God ;
and we strive with all our efforts to prevent those from
perishing, who may be advanced to the company of the
holy Angels. For this goodwill the loving-kindness of
our Christ has everywhere infused, by the inestimable
sweetness of His Spirit, into all the preachers of His
Truth, that; laying aside the thought of their own neces-
sities, they burn with zeal for the salvation of all nations,
and esteem every people as their parents and sons, their
brethren and kinsmen ; and, embracing all in the single
love of God, labour to bring them to everlasting ages of
H
98 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
all happiness and festal joys. Such men as these,
standard-bearers of our King, made witnesses of God by
numberless miracles, through swords, through fires,
through beasts, through every kind of torment and
death, have with unconquered courage subdued the
world to their Saviour. Long since has Rome, long
since has Greece, with the kings and princes of the
earth, and isles of the Gentiles, drawn by the invita-
tions of these preachers, with all the world, rejoiced to
worship the Lord of kings and to serve Him for ever,
by whom and with whom, they may reign eternally.
Moved, too, by such love as this, Gregory, the present
Father of all Christendom, thirsting most ardently for
your salvation, would have come to you, hindered by
no fear of punishment or death, had he been able (as he
is not) to leave the care of so many souls committed to
his charge. And therefore he has sent us in his place
to open to you the way of everlasting light and the gate
of the Kingdom of Heaven ; in which, if despising the
idols of devils, you refuse not to enter through Christ,
you shall most assuredly reign for ever." 1
Such was the tenour of the address which Augustine
delivered to the king. He spoke it, as St. Bede tells
us, " sitting by the king's command." Ethelbert's
answer was as follows : " Fair, truly, are the words and
promises which you bring me, but they are new to me
and of doubtful authority. I cannot, therefore, accept
them, to the neglect of those religious observances, to
which, in common with the whole English people, I have
so long adhered. However, you are foreigners, who have
1 This discourse is given, from tradition, apparently, or pious
conjecture, rather than documentary authority, in Gocelin's Life.
Bollandists. May 26.
X.] ST. AUGUSTINE IN THANET. 99
come a long way to my country, and, as far as I find
myself able to understand the object of your visit,
you are come with the desire of imparting to me what
you yourselves believe to be true and excellent. We
are far, then, from wishing to molest you; rather we
would receive you with kindness and hospitality. We
shall, accordingly, take measures for supplying you with
all necessary articles of food. Neither do we forbid
you to preach, and make what converts you can to the
faith of your religion." 2
King Ethelbert was as good as his word. Upon his
return to Canterbury, he gave orders that a suitable
house should be prepared for the reception of the mis-
sionaries, that a table should be kept for them at his
own expense, and that no obstacles should be put in
the way of their preaching. In due time St. Augus-
tine and his companions quitted Thanet for Canterbury,
and entered the city in the same solemn order which
had been observed in approaching the king in Thanet.
The tall silver cross was again uplifted, and the
sacred banner displayed ; and as they passed the
little church of St. Martin's, they chanted, as in the
name of its inhabitants, " Lord, we pray Thee of Thy
mercy, take away Thine anger from this city, and
from Thy holy house ; for we have sinned. Alleluia."
The poor idolaters of the place marvelled at the strange
sight ; curiously staring, now at the sunburnt com-
plexions, mortified aspect, and unwonted garb, of the
missionaries ; now at the gleaming cross, now at the
painted banner. Little did they deem that this meek
and peaceful company was, in truth, an army of war-
2 S. Bede, lib. i. 25.
100 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
riors coming to take possession of their city, and lead
themselves captive ; little could they recognize, on that
banner, the image of their Conqueror, or, in that cross,
the instrument of His power. One inmate of the place,
at least, there was, who discerned in that lowly proces-
sion a troop of dauntless warriors, and whose heart
beat high with presages of victory, queen Bertha.
XI.] ST. AUGUSTINE AT CANTERBURY. 101
CHAPTER XI.
ST. AUGUSTINE AT CANTERBURY.
THE foundation was now laid of that goodly work which
had occupied so chief a place in the wishes and prayers
of the great St. Gregory from the day of his providential
encounter with the English slaves in the market-place
at Eome. The very prediction which the holy Father
had uttered on that occasion had received its literal
fulfilment ; Alleluia had been chanted in the English
dominions ; though as yet it was but the " Lord's song
in a strange land." Still, the seed was sown, and the
light kindled : twelve poor fishermen sufficed to con-
vert the world, and here was little England allotted
forty " fishers of men " few labourers, indeed, for so plen-
teous a harvest, as men might count of few and many ;
few, if the prospects of return were to be measured by
the degree of physical capability in the workmen, or the
amount of known resources for the work ; but a supply
far more than equal to the occasion, if we take into
account the quickening power of holiness, the manifold
fruit of self-denial, the intercessions of the Church, and
the blessing of St. Peter.
The monks, on their arrival at Canterbury, were
lodged by Ethelbert in the part of the city called
Stablegate, or " the resting-place," as being the quar-
ter in which strangers were usually accommodated, a
name which it retains to this day. The house, therefore,
would be in the present borough of Staplegate, to the
102 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
north of the " Archbishop's palace/' built by Lanfranc,
the ruins of which are still visible. Here St. Augustine
and his companions remained till Ethelbert, on his con-
version, made over to them his own royal palace, out of
which grew the Monastery of Christ Church. Ethel-
bert's own palace was, therefore, within a stone's throw
of the house in which the missionaries were lodged on their
arrival, so that the king must have enjoyed constant oppor-
tunities of witnessing the devout and holy conversation
of the strangers. " They lived," says the historian, "like
Apostles ; frequent in prayers, watchings, and fastings.
They preached the Word of Life to all who were ready to
hear it, receiving from their disciples so much only as
was necessary for a bare subsistence, and in all things
acting in strict conformity with their profession and doc-
trine. In truth, they seemed to put aside the good
things of this world, as property not belonging to them.
They bore disappointments and hindrances with a calm
and cheerful spirit, and would readily have died, had
such been God's will, in defence of the truth they
preached." The result may easily be imagined. "Many
believed, and were baptized, won over by the simplicity
of their blameless lives, and the sweetness of their hea-
venly doctrine/' 3
The church of St. Martin's was allotted to the monks
for the public celebrations of religion. There they
" chanted psalms, prayed, said Mass, preached, and bap-
tized." For these " forty's sake," it pleased the Divine
Mercy to save the city ; conversions followed one an-
other in rapid succession, till at length He who " turneth
kings' hearts as the rivers of water," vouchsafed to Eth-
elbert himself the first motions of His enlightening
3 S. Bede, lib. i. c. 26.
XI.] ST. AUGUSTINE AT CANTERBURY. 103
Spirit. We have spoken of prayers, and fastings, and
the silent power of holiness, as the main instruments to-
wards this blessed result ; but truth to history obliges
us to take notice of another and more conspicuous spi-
ritual weapon used by the Providence of God in turn-
ing the hearts of the English nation to the obedience of
Christ. Those miraculous gifts, which at a somewhat
later period were even profusely displayed in this island,
had already begun to manifest themselves. St. Bede,
accordingly, enumerates, among the reasons which led
Ethelbert to embrace the Christian Faith, the " multi-
tude of miracles whereby the truth of the promises was
accredited." We give this statement as we find it in
the pages of a most trustworthy historian, under a deep
sense of the obligation resting upon us to impress, and,
if so be, inflict, such solemn and mysterious facts upon
the attention of a sceptical age, and especially in a
country from which, under the joint and kindred influ-
ences of heresy, and the idolatry of wealth, the spirit of
child-like faith has well-nigh departed.
The missionaries had now, according to our calcula-
tion, been about a quarter of a year at Canterbury ; for
we suppose them to have landed in the spring, and a
few days after to have proceeded to the royal city, des-
tined in the counsels of Divine Providence to become
henceforth the central source of religious blessings to
England, as it had now for some time been the seat of
the court and government. Easter had returned with
its glorious fifty days ; but not on Saxon England, if we
except one favoured spot, had beamed the joys of that
happy spring-time of Christendom. In the little church
of St. Martin alone had swelled the high notes of Catho-
lic psalmody ; and when those soul-stirring words struck
on our missionaries' ears, " Resurrexi, et adhuc tecum
104 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
sum, Alleluia !" were they not cheered in their loneli-
ness by the thought that HE, the Unchangeable amid
change, the Same " to day" in glory as " yesterday" in
the grave, and " before yesterday" on the cross, was still
and ever at their side ?
That was the last Easter-tide which brought not its
own appropriate joy to Saxon England. And even then
might the eye of faith descry on every side the signs of
an approaching spiritual resurrection harmonizing with
the appearances of nature.
Who that has been at Canterbury, has not visited
the church of St. Martin 1 and who that has visited it
with such knowledge of the history of England as most
educated persons now possess, can have failed to ex-
perience many strange emotions on entering beneath
its low portal, and surveying its scanty proportions?
After all the changes wrought by time in the actual
building, which, with the exception of a few red
Roman bricks still discernible in the eastern exterior
wall, has probably quite lost its identity with the
original fabric, and notwithstanding the desolating
ravages which Reformers and Puritans have perpetrated
in the sacred interior, it is hard not to reflect that here,
so runs the tradition, queen Bertha prayed for heathen
England ; here, St. Luidhard and St. Augustine of
Canterbury offered the holy Sacrifice of the Altar ; and
here king Ethelbert, laying aside his earthly crown,
and sceptre of temporal sovereignty, was admitted as a
little child into the Kingdom of Heaven.
It was on the Feast of Pentecost, June 2nd, A. D. 597,
or rather on the Eve of that Feast, that Ethelbert,
and his queen, attended by a numerous train of noble j,
left their royal palace (which lay a little to the north-
west of the present cathedral), and proceeded to the
XI.] ST. AUGUSTINE AT CANTERBURY. 105
church of St. Martin's, distant the better part of a mile.
The rumour of the king's conversion had brought a
vast multitude of strangers to the city, not from other
parts of Kent only, but even from distant quarters. 4
On entering the church, (which is said to have been
richly adorned for the occasion), queen Bertha repaired
to her customary place of devotion, the king remaining
at the entrance. Then, after a portion of the service
has been gone through at the altar, the priest who had
there occupied the central position descends and advances
towards the Font, which is of course near the door.
He is distinguished from the rest no less by the unusual
height of his person, than by his richer vestments, and
as in loco pontificis, though not as yet himself of
episcopal dignity, he is preceded, according to ancient
usage, by two attendants with lighted tapers. The
ecclesiastic in question is, we need not say, no other
than St. Augustine himself. Having reached the Font,
he addresses the people in the usual form : " The Lord
be with you," and is answered, " And with Thy Spirit."
He then prays after this manner : " Almighty and
everlasting GOD, be present at the mysteries of Thy
great mercy ; be present at Thy Sacraments ; and send
forth the Spirit of adoption to create anew [this] soul
begotten to Thee in the laver of Baptism, that so, what
is to be wrought by the ministry of our humility, may
be accomplished by the effect of Thy power. Through
our Lord."
At the conclusion of this prayer, the " Consecration of
the Font" is entoned after the manner of the Preface at
Mass. This ended, the following prayer is chanted :
" God, who, by Thine invisible power, dost work,
after a wondrous manner, the effect of Thy Sacraments ;
4 Gocelin in Bolland.
106 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
we acknowledge ourselves unworthy to perform Thy
holy mysteries ; yet forsake not, we beseech Thee, the
gifts of Thy grace, and incline towards our supplications
the ears of Thy pity. God, whose Spirit moved on
the face of the waters at the creation of the world, grant
that the nature of this water may receive the virtue of
sanctification. God, who didst by the water of the
deluge purge away the sins of a guilty world, signifying
thereby the grace of Regeneration, so that in the mystery
of one and the same element might be shewn forth both
the end of vices and the beginning of virtues ; look,
Lord, upon the face of Thy Church, and multiply in it
Thy regenerations ; Thou, who by the torrent of Thine
overflowing grace dost make glad Thy City, and open
the fountain of Baptism for the renewing of all the
nations of the earth, that by the power of Thy Majesty
they may receive from the Holy Spirit the grace of
Thine Only-begotten."
Here the officiating priest makes the Sign of the Cross
upon the water, and adds :
" May He, by the secret admixture of His light, render
fruitful this water prepared for the regeneration of men ;
that, being endued with sanctification, a heavenly offspring
may spring into newness of life from the immaculate
womb of the Divine Font. And may Grace, as a mother,
bring forth all into a common infancy, how different
soever in sex or age. Depart hence, at God's bidding,
every unclean spirit ; depart, every wickedness of dia-
bolical craft. May there be here no evil admixture ;
no treachery to circumvent, no secret poison to insinuate
itself, no defilement to corrupt and destroy. May this
creature [of water] be holy and innocent, free from every
approach of the Enemy, and purged by the departure of
every vicious influence; may it be a fountain of Life,
XI.] ST. AUGUSTINE AT CANTERBURY. 107
a stream of Regeneration, a wave of purification, that all
they who are to be washed in this laver of health, may
obtain, by the operation in them of the Holy Spirit, the
grace of a perfect cleansing.
" Wherefore >J< I bless thee, creature of water, >J< in
the name of the living ^ God, of that holy God, who, at
the creation of the world by His Word, who was in the
beginning, separated thee from the dry land ; whose
Spirit moved upon thee, who bade thee flow from Pa-
radise and water the whole of the earth by four streams ;
who, when thou wert bitter in the desert, poured sweet-
ness into thee, and made thee palateable, and who com-
manded thee to flow from a rock to refresh His thirst-
ing people. I bless ^ thee also in the Name of Jesus
Christ, His only Son, our Lord, who, at Gana in Ga-
lilee, converted thee by a wonderful miracle of His
power into wine ; who walked upon thee with His feet,
and was baptized in thee by John in the Jordan. Who
gave thee forth together with blood out of His side,
and commanded His disciples to baptize believers in
thee, saying, ' Go, teach all men, baptizing them in
the Name,' &c."
Here the priest changes his voice into the tone of
reading.
" Do Thou, God, be present in mercy with us who
obey Thy commandments ; graciously breathe upon this
element, bless this pure water with the breath of Thy
mouth, that, besides that natural power with which it
cleanses our bodies, it may also become efficacious to
the purifying of the soul."
Hereupon the two taper-bearers withdraw into the
sacristy. Then, breathing three times into the water,
he says :
" May the virtue of Thy Spirit descend, Lord,
108 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
into the fulness of this Font, and make the whole of
this water fruitful with the power of Regeneration. May
the stains of all sin be here blotted out. May that
nature which was formed after Thy image, and which
is now reformed in honour of its first beginning, be
cleansed from all defilement of the old man ; that they
who receive this Sacrament of Regeneration may be
born anew into the infancy of true innocence ; through
our Lord Jesus Christ, Thy Son, who will come to
judge the quick and dead, and the world by fire."
Then, taking the golden vessel with the chrism, he
pours the chrism into the font in the manner of a
cross, and parts the water with his hand.
Then the priest, leading the candidate to the water
and holding him in it, demands, " What is thy name ?"
And then rehearses to him the Articles of the Creed ;
at the end of which the candidate answers, " I believe."
He proceeds, " Wilt thou be baptized 1 " Answer, " I
will." Then he baptizes him in the customary form.
On the baptized coming out of the font, he is pre-
sented to one of the presbyters, who makes on his fore-
head with the chrism the sign of the cross, adding,
" May Almighty God, the Father of our Lord Jesus
Christ, who hath regenerated thee with water and with
the Holy Spirit, and who hath given thee remission of
all thy sins, Himself anoint thee with the chrism of
salvation unto life eternal. R^. Amen."
At this point in the service the king would have
received the Sacrament of Confirmation, had St. Au-
gustine been competent at that time to administer it.
As no bishop, however, was present, we may conclude
that a Litany was then said at the font, while the prin-
cipal priest took his place at the altar. Then may have
come the prayer specially appointed for the Vigil of
XT.] ST. AUGUSTINE AT CANTERBURY. 109
Pentecost, " post Ascensum Fontis." " Grant, we be-
seech Thee, Almighty God, that the brightness of Thy
glory may shine forth upon us, and the light of Thy
Light confirm by the illumination of the Holy Spirit
the hearts of those who have been regenerated by Thy
grace through our Lord."
Previously to this prayer, the church had been illu-
minated in preparation for the Mass which was to
follow.
Such was the Form of Baptism used in the time of
St. Gregory the Great, according to the Ritual of the
Church, as it had been recently set in order by that
Pontiff. We have here given it entire, so as to enable
the reader to make himself present at a solemnity, the
like to which, in interest and importance, has not often
occurred in the annals of our country. It should be
observed, however, that, either the whole, or but a part,
of this Service, would be used on the occasion in ques-
tion, according to circumstances of which we are not
at this time cognizant. Thus it is not unlikely that
the earlier portion of the Office, as it has been now
set forth, may have been used, not at Ethelbert's bap-
tism, which was solemnized on Whitsun-eve, but on the
Holy Saturday before, when, perhaps, the water was
consecrated in anticipation of the probable conversions.
It is also next to certain that many other baptisms
took place at the same time with the king's ; for, on
the one hand, we know from St. Bede, that Ethel-
bert's was but one of a number of conversions which
followed rapidly upon the preaching of the missionaries ;
and, on the other, if these conversions took place be-
tween Easter and Pentecost (which were the two great
seasons for baptism), the actual admission of the con-
verts into the Church would be deferred to the latter
110 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
period, and the interval would be occupied in the pre-
liminary course of catechetical instruction. We have
also seen that other changes in the service were ren-
dered necessary by the want of a bishop. This need,
however, was no long time after supplied. Within five
months of Ethelbert's baptism, St. Augustine was on
his way back to France, where he obtained consecration
to the English Archiepiscopate at the hands of Vir-
gilius, Archbishop of Aries and Metropolitan (who had
received a mandate from the Pope to that effect), 5 as-
sisted by other prelates of France. This was on the
16th of November 597, after the commencement of
the Feast of Sunday the 17th. Immediately upon his
consecration, St. Augustine returned to Canterbury,
where he was received with great joy by the king and
people, and solemnly inaugurated as Archbishop of that
See.
During the five months which passed between the
baptism of Ethelbert and St. Augustine's visit to Aries,
our Lord had made daily additions to His Church
in England. The effect of the king's conversion was,
as might have been expected, quite electrical. The
people, animated by the example of their sovereign,
flocked in multitudes to hear the Word of God, not,
however, by constraint, but willingly ; for Ethelbert per-
emptorily refused to employ any kind of compulsion
in bringing over his subjects to the Christian Faith,
having learned, says St. Bede, a far different doc-
trine from his new masters. As many as were prepared
of their own free choice to take Christ's easy yoke upon
them, the king received most joyfully and lovingly ;
accounting them, says the historian, no longer as his
5 S. Bede, lib. i. c. 27.
XI.] ST. AUGUSTINE AT CANTERBURY. Ill
subjects on earth, but rather as his fellow-citizens in
the Kingdom of Heaven. 6
So mightily did the word of God grow and prevail,
even during the first few months of the missionaries'
stay in England, and while as yet their ministrations
were confined to a single city, that, on the Christmas-
day of the year in which they landed, no less than ten
thousand of the English received the grace of Life.
Oh, what delight did these tidings bring to the heart
of the good St. Gregory. It so happened that the holy
Father laboured that year under a more than usual
pressure of bodily illness ; but God, who is wont to
send His Saints two joys for one sorrow, was pleased
to refresh the spirit of this afflicted servant with a
double consolation at one and the same time. His
friend Eulogius, Bishop of Alexandria, had written to
acquaint him with the prosperous condition of that
Church, and he answers by telling him of the recent
news from England.
" Full well do I know that, in all your good deeds,
you deeply sympathize with the joy of others. I will
repay, then, your favour, and reply to your tidings by
others not very dissimilar. The English, a people shut
up in a little corner of the world, have been up to this
time unbelievers, nay, worshippers of stocks and stones.
And now, by the help of your prayers, it has pleased
God to put into my mind to send among them as a
preacher, Augustine, one of the brethren of my monas-
tery. He by my authority 7 has been consecrated bishop
by the bishops of Germany, 8 and by their assistance
has been brought to the afore-mentioned nation, which
6 S. Bede, lib. i. 26. 7 Data a me licentia.
8 The Franks were often called Germans, as being of common
origin.
112 ST. AUGUSTINE. [OH.
is truly the very end of the world. And news has
just reached me of his well-being and wonderful deeds ;
that either he, or those who were sent with him, have
so shone out by the gift of miracles among this people,
that they seem quite like Apostles in the signs they
have wrought. And on the Feast of our Lord's Nativity,
in this first year of the Indiction, as I understand from
the same our brother and fellow-bishop, more than
ten thousand English were baptized. I have mentioned
these facts that you may know what your prayers have
wrought at the farthest extremity of the world, while
you are talking to me about the people of Alexandria.
While your holy doings are made manifest in the place
where you are, the fruit of your prayers is apparent in
places where you are not." 9
The question may be asked, Why did St. Augustine
go so far as Aries to be consecrated ? The answer to
this question may be obtained from the letters of St.
Gregory the Great, and besides its interest in this place,
it throws valuable light upon the ancient prerogatives of
the See of St. Peter. The Archbishop of Aries had a
precedence among the bishops of France, and was at this
time also vicar of the Holy See. St. Gregory speaks,
in his reply to St. Augustine's ninth Question upon the
English Church, of the Pall as a privilege of the See of
Aries in the times of his predecessors. 1 In days, then,
which so early as the sixth century could be described
as ancient, 2 s the Church of Rome was what may be
called the fountain of honour to Western Christendom.
In another of St. Gregory's letters, we find him con-
stituting this same Virgilius, through whom the Apostol-
ical succession was transmitted to the English Church,
9 S. Greg. lib. viii. Ep. 30. ' Lib. xi. Ep. 64.
2 Antiquis praedecessorum meorum temporibus.
XI.] ST. AUGUSTINE AT CANTERBURY. 113
his vicar throughout the dominions of the French king.
The following are the terms in which he conveys these
prerogatives.
" Since, in compliance with ancient custom, you have
requested of me the use of the Pall, and the vicariate
of the Apostolic See, far be it from me to suspect you
of seeking mere transitory power, or mere outward or-
nament. It is evident to all from what quarter that
Faith is derived, which prevails in the regions of
Gaul : when your Brotherhood comes to the Apostolic
See for a privilege which that See has always been
accustomed to grant, what else is it than a dutiful child
having recourse to its mother's breast for all good
things ? Most readily, therefore, do we grant your
petition, that we may not appear to defraud you of any
part of that honour which is your due, nor to treat
with disrespect the prayer of Childebert, our right noble
son in the Faith. But, believe me, it is a matter requir-
ing all your attention, that your diligence and watchful-
ness over others should keep pace with your advance-
ment in honour ; that the excellence of your life should
become manifest to those who depend upon you for your
example ; and that your Brotherhood should never seek
your own in the honours which through favour are
conferred upon you, but the gains of your heavenly
country. For you know what the blessed Apostle says
in sorrow of heart ; ' All seek their own, not the things
which are Jesus Christ's.' Under
God's guidance, therefore, and according to ancient
usage, we entrust your Brotherhood with the power of
representing us in all the Churches which are compre-
hended in the dominions of our right noble son, Childe-
bert ; reserving to the different Metropolitans such pri-
vileges as belong to them of immemorial right. We
114 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
have also transmitted the Pall, which your Brotherhood
is to use in church at the celebration of Mass only.
Should any Bishop wish to go to a distance, it will not
be lawful for him to pass into other dioceses without au-
thority from your Holiness. Should any question of the
Faith, or other grave matter, arise among the Bishops,
let it be discussed and determined in an assembly of
twelve of their number. If it cannot be thus settled,
let the rights of the question be discussed, and the
decision referred to me. God Almighty take you into
His keeping, and grant your new honours may turn to
the profit of your soul !" 3
3 Lib. v. Ep. 53.
XII.] MUNIFICENCE OF ETHELBERT. 115
CHAPTER XII.
MUNIFICENCE OF ETHELBERT. FIRST ANGLO-SAXON
CHURCHES AND MONASTERIES.
IT has before now been observed, and indeed will hardly
be disputed, that the impression which Scripture gives
of kingly power is, on the whole, that rather of an an-
tagonist, than an ally, of God's Church. Kings and
queens have, no doubt, a special and exalted place as-
signed them in the household of the Faith ; but, since
they cannot properly rise, except through humility, nor
rule, except by submission, it is no wonder that, as a
matter of fact, they have so rarely been seen to occupy
it in a becoming manner. Considering how deeply the
love of preeminence is ingrained in unregenerate human
nature, and how thickly the rich and great are beset on
every side with the temptations to a sin from which
not even the lowest stations are exempt, it is no
proof of any especial ungodliness in those who are called
to the high places of the earth, that there should not
have been more among them to earn the crown of sanc-
tity amid the perils of a throne ; rather it is a wit-
ness to the sovereign and all-subduing power of Divine
grace that there should have been so many. Our Lord's
very birth gave occasion to the kingly character to mani-
fest itself in those two extreme and opposite shapes
which it has ever since been apt to assume, or to which
it has, at all events, continually tended, in its bearings
towards our Lord, that is to say, towards His Holy Ca-
116 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
tholic Church ; the shape of rivalry, jealousy, and ha-
tred, as portrayed in Herod the Great, and that of de-
vout reverence and implicit submission, as exemplified in
the Magians. Herod seeking the life of the Divine Infant,
and the wise men of the East prostrate at His feet and
offering Him of their best, were the types and the prede-
cessors of two several classes of sovereign rulers, whom
Prophecy distinctly foreshewed, and History has no less
distinctly exhibited ; those, on the one hand, who have
" taken counsel against the Lord and against His Christ f
and those, on the other, who have "come bending" to the
footstool of the King of kings, and " ministered" to the
glory of His earthly dwelling-place. And well, indeed,
had it been for the Church, were there not also a third
course which kingly power has been apt to take with
respect to her, midway between avowed hostility and
implicit submission, the patronizing and conciliatory
line, such as the great pursue towards powerful inferiors,
or the politic towards useful auxiliaries. Truly, the
Church, when staunch to her principles, recognizes no
patrons of this world. She is the dispenser of patronage,
not the object of it. She gives patrons to others ; not
placing herself under the protection of kings, who often,
with flattery on their tongues, cherish guile in their
hearts ; but rather distributing the nations of the world
under the high and beneficent tutelage of her own glori-
fied Saints. And, as she recognizes no patrons among the
great, so courts she no allies among the powerful. For
alliances are founded on the principle of mutual con-
cession ; whereas the world has every thing to gain
from the Church, and nothing to give in return, which
the Church does not account rather an encumbrance
than a boon. In short, the Church knows of no rela-
tion towards herself but that of the loyal subject and
XII.] MUNIFICENCE OF ETHELBERT. 117
the loving child ; and where men are not content to defer
to her as a Queen, and cling to her as a Mother, far bet-
ter is it for her, and not much worse for themselves, that
they should take the side of her declared enemies j be
" cold," rather than " lukewarm ;" for decision of purpose,
and consistency of action, even on the wrong side, are ever
both more respectable, and more hopeful, than middle
courses and incompatible allegiances.
That especial temper of self-renouncing devotion, and
chivalrous homage to the Catholic Church, which admits
of such splendid illustration from the pages of Anglo-
Saxon history, appears to have been with Ethelbert quite
a matter of Christian instinct. From the moment of his
baptism it never seems to have even crossed his mind that
he was to regard the Authoress of his birth into the King-
dom of Heaven otherwise than as a Parent, whose bounties
to him no gifts could repay, and whose claims upon him
no devotion could express. His great aim seems to have
been, not to engage the affections of his subjects towards
himself as an object of ultimate loyalty, but to unite
them with himself in common loyalty to the Church.
Accordingly, when St. Augustine returned with episcopal
powers from France, his royal disciple seems to have
been animated but by one wish that of placing, not
his house only, but his city, and even his kingdom,
at the Saint's command. That very kingdom which,
in days of old, he had eagerly sought, and hardly won,
he now hastens to deliver over to a body of men who
in the eyes of the world must have seemed no better
than mere adventurers and fanatics. All which we hear
of king Ethelbert, even before his conversion, seems to
prove that he was earnest and conscientious, as a hea-
then, according to his opportunities ; and this is ever
the true road to brighter light and fuller grace. No
1 IS ST. A I' (JUSTINE. [ril.
doubt, his union with Bertha had been a great blessing
to him ; yet her influence seems rather to have leavened
his mind, than wholly formed it. In his youth, he was
actuated by motives of ambition ; but, considering the
fearful extent to which this sin prevails among Chris-
tians, nay, and is even countenanced and vindicated by
them, it would indeed be extravagant to make it a severe
ground of charge against a heathen, though of course
a sin it is, whether in heathen or Christian. But from
more debasing vices Ethelbert, as far as we know, was
free. He seems to have been a true Saxon, as Saxons
were when they came fresh from their native air, and be-
fore they had lost their indigenous virtues through the
effect of luxurious habits. He was brave, though as
yet he lacked a suitable cause in which to exercise his
valour ; and, for all that appears, he was temperate, like
a true soldier as he was, though he " did it for a cor-
ruptible crown." Moreover, it is rather prominently
brought before us in history, that he was constant at his
devotions ; and could there, under the circumstances, have
been better materials to form the saintly heart withal ?
Once more, his behaviour towards the holy missionaries
from the moment of their arrival was such as could not
have been exceeded for kindness, generosity, and discre-
tion. Had he been a self-willed and narrow-hearted
prince, nay, had he been otherwise than a very truth-
loving and noble-minded one, he might quite fairly and
reasonably have forbid them his country, as foreigners
demanding entrance upon an inadmissible pretext. Yet
he received them kindly, treated them hospitably, and
gave a patient and candid hearing to the message which
they brought with them. Nor was this the indiffer-
ence of a politician, thinking all religions equally true
or equally false ; for, even while evidently interested in
XII.] MUNIFICENCE OF ETHELBERT. 119
the tidings which Augustine announced to him, Ethel-
bert, as we have seen, made a discreet and conscientious
reserve in favour of the religion of his country, which
he was not prepared at once to give up. Yet did
he not cling pertinaciously to a system, which, being
essentially false, could not possibly have found its an-
swer in the conscience of a good man. " Bigotry " is
a much abused word ; but we must not be led by
the popular abuse of the term to forget that the
temper exists which that term in its true sense ex-
presses, and a very evil temper it is. We do not hesi-
tate then to say, in a phrase which has an ill sound but
a legitimate use, that king Ethelbert was " no bigot ;"
meaning by that phrase, not that he would have shrunk
from fencing the true Faith round with anathemas
against heresy (which is piety, not bigotry), but that
he did not suffer his attachment to a false religion (to
which, nevertheless, as the best that had come before
him, and as incomparably better than unbelief, he was
rightly attached) to prejudice his reception of the true.
Ethelbert received St. Augustine, on his return from
Aries, as a king should receive an archbishop, and a dis-
ciple, his spiritual father. The welcome is described as
having been at once truly magnificent and most hearty.
When the first greetings were over, the king announced
his intention of surrendering his palace at Canterbury
for the use of the monks, and of retiring, himself, to
Reculver. The King's palace, as we have already said,
was not far from the house in Stablegate which had
been appropriated to the missionaries on their first
arrival, and lay, probably, between what was after-
wards the site of the Archbishop's palace, and the ca-
thedral. The ruins, or at least the vestiges, of the
ancient archiepiscopal residence, are still to be seen,
120 ST. AUGUSTINE. [oil.
including the remains of the study from which St.
Thomas passed to the cathedral on the memorable 29th
of December, when he received the crown of martyrdom.
But the reader must not confound this building (which
is not older than Lanfranc's age) with the palace of
king Ethelbert. This latter, from the time of its passing
into the hands of St. Augustine, ceased to be a palace,
:ind became a monastery. As such, it remained till the
archiepiscopate of Lanfranc, who first erected it into a
<1 \velling-house for himself.
Imagine a royal personage now-a-days giving up
his principal palace to a body of monks, and leaving
them, as it were, to represent him at the seat of his
court and government ! We are not criticising this
procedure, but merely drawing attention to it as a
most remarkable phenomenon. What are called "safe"
men would probably consider the act as one of
downright madness ; but this alone does not prove it
such, for Festus counted St. Paul as a madman ;
nay, even of our Blessed Lord there were those who
said, " He is beside Himself." In one point of view, at
least, the posture of ecclesiastical affairs in England, at
the time of which we write, is not a little singular ; as
illustrating, namely, the words of our Lord, which have
been chosen as the motto of this series of Lives ; " The
meek shall inherit the earth." A year ago, and this
mission, now so prosperous and triumphant, was on the
point of being abandoned, in consequence of the appa-
rent failure of all human resources ; and here are those
way-worn and disheartened travellers housed in the
very palace of the king of England, and that king
become a voluntary exile from his home and from his
court, as desiring only that Christ should be magnified
in his stead. Let all such as are inclined to doubt if
XII.] MUNIFICENCE OF ETHELBEBT. 121
St. Augustine's path were indeed illustrated by miracles,
consider well with themselves, whether (as has been
said of the original dissemination of Christianity) any
miracle which they are asked to believe is so wonderful
as would be the fact of such a result having been
brought to pass without miracle.
But, at any rate, it will be said, that king Ethelbert,
in retiring from Canterbury, was guilty of quitting his
post of duty, and must surely have degraded himself in
the eyes of his subjects. We shall find, however, from
the sequel, that the latter years of his reign were, at all
events, no less prosperous than the former, even as
respected the temporal interests of his kingdom ; though
these were not immediately in his eye when he thought
fit to adopt the strange line of policy upon which we
are commenting. England does not seem to have suf-
fered in any way from the counsels upon which Ethel-
bert appears to have leant in the latter years of his
life. For kings, no less than private men, and nations,
no less than the individuals who compose them, have an
undoubted share in the promise, " Seek ye first the
Kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these
things shall be added unto you."
Near Ethelbert's palace there is said to have been a
church, which had been built by Christians as early as
the days of the Romans. St. Martin's being generally
mentioned as the only ecclesiastical building in Canter-
bury which, previously to the arrival of St. Augustine,
the Christian queen had succeeded in reclaiming from
heathen uses, we are to conclude that this church must
have been given up, along with the rest, to the service
of idolatry. But Ethelbert, when he resigned his
palace to St. Augustine, included it in the donation, and
eagerly seconded the measures which the Archbishop
122 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
forthwith proceeded to take for its purification, repara-
tion, and enlargement. Such were the first beginnings
of the Metropolitan Church of Christ at Canterbury.
Of the original fabric (which fell a victim to the fury of
the Danes) neither trace nor memorial exists ; excepting
the tradition of a special providence vouchsafed at the
prayer of Archbishop Odo, by which, while roofing, it
was preserved from the effects of weather at a peculiarly
tempestuous season. The Cathedral was rebuilt in the
earlier part of the llth century by Archbishop Agel-
noth, but was again miserably reduced by fire and dila-
pidations j so that Archbishop Lanfranc had to rebuild
it almost from the first, a work which he completed in
little more than seven years, and dedicated it anew, as
some say, to the honour of the Ever-blessed Trinity.
Canterbury Cathedral, then, was originally one of the
cluster of buildings which formed the Monastery of
Christ-Church. "England," says Reyner, "from its
first reception of the Faith, has had two kinds of monas-
teries : the one, cloistral ; the other, cathedral. Those
were called Cloistral which were governed by an
abbot, or, where there was no abbot, by a prior. Those
were Cathedral where the Bishop was Abbot, and the
Convent was the Chapter of the Cathedral church ; and
so the monks were Cathedral canons, performing all
those offices which secular canons were accustomed to
perform in secular cathedrals." 4
Thus Christ-church was a Cathedral monastery, and
preserved its monastic character till the change of reli-
4 De Apostol. Bened. in Anglia, Tract. I. Sect. i. 17. Upon this
Mr. Somner remarks (History of Canterbury, p. 83, Ed. 1703)," I do
not remember that in Cathedral monasteries the bishop was ever
reputed abbot, but the prior, who was in the place of abbot, chief over
the monks. And the Capitular acts did run alike in the same form
XII.] MUNIFICENCE OF ETHELBERT. 123
gion in the 16th century. 5 St. Augustine became at
once Archbishop of Canterbury, and Abbot of Christ-
'Church ; and his companions, canons of the Cathedral,
and brethren of the Monastery.
St. Gregory appears, from a letter to St. Augustine of
several years' later date, to have contemplated fixing the
English primacy at London, which had been its seat in
the time of the Britons. But several circumstances
united in pointing out Canterbury as its more natural
and appropriate position. There the Gospel had been
first preached in England. There was the central seat
of Ethelbert's government ; whereas London belonged
not to Ethelbert, but to his nephew Sebert. And the
rank which the kingdom of Kent had in Ethelbert's
reign come to hold among the provinces of the hept-
archy would be a farther reason for selecting Canter-
bury as the ecclesiastical metropolis of England. The
transfer of the primacy from London to Canterbury was
expressly confirmed by the subsequent pontiffs, Boniface
and Honorius ; of whom the former, addressing St. Jus-
tus, successor to St. Augustine in the see of Canterbury,
writes, " We confirm and command that the metropo-
litical see of all Britain be for ever after in the city of
Canterbury ; and we make a perpetual and unchange-
able decree, that all provinces of the kingdom of Eng-
land be for ever subject to the metropolitical church of
that place." And Honorius writes, " We command all
the churches and provinces of England to be subject to
as well in Cathedral as in Cloistral monasteries, Abbas et Capi-
tulum, Prior et Capitulum.
5 The other Cathedral monasteries which were despoiled at the same
period were Durham, Winchester, Ely, Norwich, Worcester, Bath,
Coventry, and Rochester ; at York, London, and Salisbury, the capi-
tular bodies had been previously secularized. Dugd. Monastic.
124 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
your jurisdiction ; and that the metropolitical see and
archiepiscopal dignity, and the primacy of all the
churches of England, be fixed and remain in Canterbury,
and never be transferred through any kind of evil per-
suasion by any one to any other place." And this de-
cision was afterwards adopted in honour of St. Augustine
by a council of the English nation ; for, according to
Malniesbury, Kenulphus king of Mercia wrote to Pope
Leo III. " Because Augustine, of blessed memory, who in
the time of Pope Gregory, preached the word of God to
the English nation, and presided over the Saxon churches,
died in the same city, and his body was buried in the
church which his successor Laurentius dedicated to St. Pe-
ter, the Prince of the Apostles, it seemed good to all the
wise men of our nation, that the metropolitical dignity
should be fixed in that city where resteth the body of
him that planted the truth of the Christian Faith in
these parts. 6
In the city of Canterbury, between the cathedral and
St. Martin's, lies the diminutive church of St. Pancras.
This also is a monument of St. Augustine's, and (as we
shall now begin to call him, St.) Ethelbert's piety. St.
Pancras' was the church, it will be remembered, in which
the king used to assist at idolatrous rites before his con-
version ; and he would have it among the first of those
which were cleansed from heathen pollution, and con-
verted into temples of the Living God. He accordingly
made it over, with the land adjoining, to St. Augustine.
By him it was duly purified, and consecrated in ho-
nour of St. Pancras, who suffered martyrdom at the
age of fourteen, and has ever been accounted the espe-
cial patron of children and young persons. St. Pancras
appears to have been selected as patron of this church
6 Vide Somner's History of Canterbury, with Battely's additions.
XII.] MUNIFICENCE OF ETHELBERT. 125
in reference to St. Gregory's interview with the English
slaves at Rome. The Evil Spirit, as tradition says, did
not relinquish his hold over this church without a fierce
and terrific struggle. It is related, that, when St. Au-
gustine first celebrated mass within it, the building was
violently shaken, as if by an earthquake. Thorn, the chro-
nicler, speaks of marks as apparent in his time upon the
southern exterior wall, which were accounted as " marks
of the Beast ;" and Mr. Somner, the historian of Canter-
bury, implies that some such appearance was still to be
traced in the ruins of the church as late as the year 1 640.
On the other hand, St. Bede the Venerable, who flourished
little more than a century after the period at which the
circumstance is said to have happened, and who gained
his information, as he tells us/ relative to the transactions
at Canterbury, from Albinus, abbot of St. Augustine's
monastery, is silent upon the subject. No doubt, St.
Bede's silence is observable, and the marks on the wall
admit of being explained in other than supernatural
ways. Yet, if St. Bede is to furnish evidence on one
side, he must in fairness be brought forward as a witness
on the other also ; and there is no doubt that he speaks
to the fact of miracles generally as rife at the time of
St. Augustine's visit to England, so as to give the ut-
most probability to particular occurrences of an alleged
supernatural character. Under these circumstances, it
may reasonably be questioned whether his silence upon
the wonderful phenomena which are said to have accom-
panied the first consecration of the Host at St. Pancras'
is so conclusive against the story, as his general testimony
to the frequency of such manifestations at the time is in
favour of it. They, at all events, who remember how
* violently the Evil Spirit once convulsed a body from
7 Prolog, in Hist. Eccl.
126 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
which he was being ejected by Divine power, 8 and who
have perhaps been led to refer the mysterious sufferings
of holy persons on their death-bed to some similar con-
flict between the Holy Spirit labouring to put His final
seal upon an elect soul, and the Tempter trying to re-
gain his possession of it by a last and desperate effort,
will see nothing to startle them in the fact of the Devil
even visibly contending for a familiar haunt, when Christ
first glorified it by His presence, and leaving the vestiges
of his malice when precluded from displaying the tro-
phies of his victory.
The royal grant of the building which was after-
wards converted into the church of St. Pancras, in-
cluded, as we have said, the plot of ground adjoining ;
and this ground became the site of the celebrated
monastery of St. Peter and Paul, afterwards known by
the name of St. Augustine's. So great a work and con-
spicuous a memorial of our Saint, where his sacred ashes
long reposed, and which remained as a standing monu-
ment of his piety and apostolical labours, till, with the
other religious houses of England, it fell under the sacri-
legious hand of the tyrant, will require more than a
passing notice in these pages, and shall accordingly
form the subject of a distinct chapter.
8 Mark ix. 25, 26.
XIII.] MONASTERY OF ST. AUGUSTINE. 127
CHAPTER XIII.
MONASTERY OF ST. AUGUSTINE.
WE have already seen that both at the house in Stable-
gate, and still more at Ethelbert's palace, St. Augustine
and his companions had formed themselves into some-
thing of a regular community, and exemplified, as far
as circumstances allowed, the practice of the religious
life. Indeed, their course in this respect may be said
to have been chalked out for them, independently
of any private preferences of their own, or of any
view which might be taken of the expediency of such
a mode of life towards the purposes of their mission.
When at Eome, they had been brethren of a mo-
nastery ; and, so far as they had fallen during their
travels into less orderly ways, the change had been
attended, as we have seen, with obvious inconveniences.
These evils St. Gregory had sought to correct, by giving
St. Augustine a more absolute authority over the rest, and
so reconstituting the body a strictly religious one. As
soon, therefore, as the missionaries were once more set-
tled under the same roof, they returned, quite as a mat-
ter of course, to their old habits and arrangements ;
St., Augustine taking his place among them as their
rightful Superior. Thus they carried out the evident
intentions, or more probably the express instructions, of
the Supreme Pontiff.
Still, their missionary avocations must have left them
but little time for the proper and characteristic exercises
128 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
of the religious state. From the day of their arrival at
Canterbury, they were constantly abroad in the streets and
lanes of the city, preaching the Gospel to every creature.
In our own time, when the essence of religion is so com-
monly thought to consist in its social duties alone, the
importance even of the monastic institute is apt to be
measured principally by the facilities which it offers to-
wards the practice of the corporal and spiritual works
of mercy. But it must not be forgotten, that, under
the Gospel, the first and great commandment is the love
of God, and the love of our brethren but the second.
Beneficial then beyond expression as religious commu-
nities have been in ameliorating the condition of the
poor, and evangelizing the heathen, it is chiefly as they
have given scope for contemplation of Divine mysteries,
the practice of complete obedience, and the cultivation
of the interior life, that they have been bright centres of
light, and gushing fountains of health, in the midst of
a darkened and diseased world. It has been observed,
that some of the principal Gospel types of the Church
represent her as a witness, rather than a herald ; a calm
and clear and dazzling " light" in a dark place ; a "city
set on an hill ;" a beautiful and expansive " tree," which
sheds its fragrance around, and draws the lonely under
its shelter. These and the like figures give an idea of
the calm majesty which gradually gains upon the world,
rather than of the zealous ministrations which tell by
their immediate effects ; though, of course, among the
manifold operations of the One Spirit, these also have
a chief place in the Church of Christ.
Such an earthly transcript in epitome of the " Jeru-
salem which is above" would our holy Archbishop and
his royal disciple leave behind them in our fair English
land ; even a godly company, who should " wait on the
XIII.] MONASTERY OF ST. AUGUSTINE. 129
Lord without distraction," and help our country by
their prayers, while others were engaged in more labo-
rious offices of charity.
The more immediate motive, however, which led to
the foundation of St. Augustine's monastery seems to
have been a desire on the part both of St. Augustine and
St. Ethelbert to provide a suitable burial-place for them-
selves and their successors. This was an object which
the incipient and unformed state of the Church in Eng-
land would render one of no little interest and import-
ance. Very different, indeed, from that over-sensitive-
ness on the score of posthumous respect, so common in the
world, are the precautions which even a Saint might
wish to take, with the object of securing his own poor
body from the chance of abuse ; since, whether his own,
or another's, that body is equally the temple of the Holy
Spirit, whose honour is accordingly concerned in its safe
disposal and reverential treatment. The same con-
sideration may lead Saints to deprecate insults to their
remains after death, which has sometimes led them to
acquiesce in the veneration paid them by the world
during their lives ; a regard, namely, to God's honour,
which they might endanger by a different course.9
Moreover, in the last and highest stage of humility, a
Christian comes to feel as indifferent about himself, any
way, as if he were some other person, and so deals with
himself just as he would with what does not belong to
him ; and thus the effects of self-conceit, and of self-con-
tempt, will often wear the same appearance in the eyes
of a superficial observer. While one Saint, from deep
consciousness of personal demerit, studies to be wholly
9 See Rodriguez, on Christian Perfection, vol. ii. Tract 3. c. 31.
Also a remarkable anecdote to the same point in A. Butler's Life of
St. Francis of Assisium.
130 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH,
overlooked and forgotten ; another, no less humble, may
manifest so entire an indifference on points which con-
cern himself either way, as even to incur the imputa-
tion of vain-glory in the midst of the most abject self-
renunciation. It is said (as illustrative of the former
view of humility), that St. Francis Borgia positively
refused to let his picture be taken when on his death-
bed, as accounting the bodily likeness of such a sinner
unworthy to be preserved ; whereas others, whose names
are no less venerated in the Church, have yielded to the
wishes of their friends in such trifles without the least
hesitation and misgiving. 1
In the same way, it is possible to conceive Saints act-
ing quite oppositely with respect to the disposal of their
own remains after death : one being prepared to en-
counter the imputation of selfishness and vanity through
zeal for God's honour, or rather thinking of this alone ;
another being so penetrated with the sense of his own
nothingness as to be quite careless of the whereabout, or
disposal, of those ashes, which at all events are to be re-
collected and re-animated at the Great Day. St. Augus-
tine and St. Ethelbert are instances on the one side, and
St. Monica, St. Swithin, St. Francis of Assisium, &c., on
the reverse. And yet, that the side of indifference about
this matter is not clearly the more religious in itself,
seems to be proved by the fact of its having suggested
itself as natural to some infidels and scoffers.
Even then did St, Augustine and St. Ethelbert (or
rather probably the latter) look to themselves only in
their desire of securing an appropriate receptacle for
their mortal remains, the reverence claimed by God's
tabernacle, even after death, and the charity which
seeks to take away the occasions of sin and scandal from
1 See Life of St. Francis Borgia, in Alban Butler.
XIII.] MONASTERY OF ST. AUGUSTINE. 131
the path of others, not to speak of the natural desire
which a Catholic feels to repose under the shade of a
church, and in the neighbourhood of her prayers and
solemn liturgical offices, will sufficiently account for
their anxiety on a point which another Saint, or they
at another time, might have been content to waive. We
may also suppose, that, in desiring honourable sepulture
for himself and his successors, St. Augustine had an eye
to the dignity of his office, as well as a charitable regard
to those instincts which lead even heathens to venerate
the dead. Moreover, we must not hastily assume that
each Saint was solicitous for himself alone. Was it
not, also, that our holy Apostle and right princely king,
who had been joined on earth in many a labour of
love, had a natural wish to be united in death ? Lovely
and pleasant were they in their lives, nor would they
be in their death divided ; each thinking, perhaps, that
the fulness of his brother's sanctity might be some sort
of protection to his own bareness ; but the king being
more especially desirous to keep, even in death, by the
side of one from whose lips he had derived the words
of eternal life, and whose hands had clothed him, as in
Christ's stead, with the white garment of innocence.
It is evident, however, that the archbishop and king
had other objects at heart besides that of providing them-
selves a burial-place. They contemplated the erection of
a monastery as well as a church. The foundation-stone
of the building was laid in the year 598; but so great
was its extent, that seven full years passed away before it
was fit for consecration. The buildings, when complete,
must have occupied a considerable space of ground, as is
plain from the boundaries assigned to them in the origi-
nal deeds of gift. 2 What portion of the work was finished
8 St. Martin's church on the east, Burgate on the south, Drouting-
132 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
at once, and what subsequently added, does not clearly
appear, except that king Eadbald, Ethelbert's son and
successor, built the chapel in honour of St. Mary, into
which St. Dunstan was in the habit of retiring at night
for private devotion. The monastery was consecrated at
Christmas 605, in the presence of the king, queen, their
family, and court. The original tutelaries were St. Peter
and St. Paul ; but St. Augustine was added by St. Dun-
stan, who dedicated the monastery anew ; after which it
always went by the name of St. Augustine only.
To king Ethelbert, the founder, was allowed the pri-
vilege of naming the first abbot ; and the choice fell on
Peter, one of the original missionaries. As the chrono-
logical tables, according to Mr. Somner, make Peter's
appointment coeval with the foundation of the monas-
tery in 598, we cannot doubt that it was the result of a
consultation with St. Augustine, by whose advice Ethel-
bert was guided in all his proceedings. Peter governed
the monastery but two years, at the expiration of which
he was sent by the king on a mission to France ; and, on
his return, was accidentally drowned at Ambleteuse, not
far from Boulogne, at which place his body is said to rest
in the church of the Blessed Virgin. His two immediate
successors were Ruffinianus and Graciosus, who appear to
have formed part of the company of priests sent over by
the Pope in 601 to reinforce the mission.
This monastery received many rich endowments, and
high immunities, from successive kings of England.
Ethelbert, the founder, granted it an exemption from
taxes, and some peculiar manorial rights f it had like-
street on the west and north. And in another charter still more
particularly. See Somner's Canterbury and Battely's Appendix.
3 Among others, the privilege called Infangenthef, or the right of
judging a thief caught on the premises.
XIII.] MONASTERY OF ST. AUGUSTINE. 133
wise the privilege of a mint, for coinage of money,
granted, some say, by Ethelbert, others, by Athelstan,
and enjoyed till the reign of Henry II. Ethelbert's
successor, Eadbald, besides building St. Mary's chapel, 4
endowed it with the manor of Northbourne ; and among
its benefactors were also reckoned, of succeeding kings,
Lothaire, Withred, Eadbert, Edmund, Kenewulf, Cuth-
red, Ethelwolf, Ethelbert, king of the West-Saxons,
Canute, St. Edgar, and St. Edward the Confessor.
From the Holy See, the monastery of St. Augustine
received other and more important privileges, with many
distinguished titles of honour. It was designated the
"first-born, and chief mother of monasteries in Eng-
land," and the "Roman Chapel in England." The
archbishop was forbidden to exercise prelatical authority
over it; he was to visit it " out of love, as a brother," ac-
counting the abbot of this monastery as a legate of the
Holy See, and a fellow-minister of the Gospel of peace.
In General Councils, the Abbot of St. Augustine's was
placed next to the Abbot of Monte Casino. 5 No bishop
might intrude into the monastery under colour of exer-
cising episcopal functions, but only, with consent of the
brethren, to solemnize religious offices. The date of
this grant is as early as 6 II. 6 The monastery of St.
Augustine thus became a special appurtenance of the
Holy Apostolic See, its relation to which is commonly
recognized in the wording of all formal instruments. 7
4 This chapel was taken down by the abbot Scotland in the time
of Lanfranc, and a new and more splendid church erected in its place.
Thorn, col. 1768.
5 This was by a grant of Pope Leo, in 1055, and out of special
respect to the " purity of the English Church." Thorn.
6 Thorn, Chronic.
7 It is styled " Monasterium, &c. ad Romanam ecclesiam nullo
medio pertinens."
134 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
One of the most interesting benefactions which St.
Augustine's monastery received, was that of king
Canute, who transferred to it all the endowments of the
convent of Minster, in Thanet, including the body of
St. Mildred. The history of this event is as follows :
Minster was several times plundered and burned by the
Danes, and its sacred inmates put to the sword. After
the last disaster, in 1011, it was occupied by a few secu-
lar priests only, till at length, in 1027, king Canute
made over all its possessions to St. Augustine's, and
allowed the monks to remove St. Mildred's body ; a step
which was most violently resisted by the priests of Min-
ster, who pursued the monks to the neighbouring river,
across which they escaped with their precious spoil.
During the first five hundred years, or, as some say,
five hundred and seventy, the Abbots of St. Augustine's
received the benediction on their appointment from the
Archbishop of Canterbury ; and, in return, made their
profession of canonical obedience to him. The direct
subjection of the monastery to the Roman See, as in other
cases, was designed, and for many centuries operated, not
as a warrant for independence, but as a security against
usurpation, and a protection to the authority of the
Superior. A central power, like that of the Holy See,
withdrawn from the risk of local influences, and the
temptation to gratuitous interference, yet based at
the same time on prerogatives, and guarded by sanc-
tions, than which none can be more calculated to ensure
deference and enlist devotion, would seem to be precisely
that to which the best interests of the Church require
that bodies of so singular and delicate a complexion as
the monastic should be directly submitted, rather than
to any authority of a more pressing nature. Neither
could there be anything like the same guarantee for the
XIII.] MONASTERY OF ST. AUGUSTINE. 135
peace and well-being of such bodies in the decisions of
an accidental bishop, as in those of the See, which repre-
sents, as it were, the collective wisdom of the Church.
Yet, how to secure this object without injury to diocesan
rights, seems to have been always more or less of a prac-
tical difficulty. For many centuries, an excellent un-
derstanding seems to have prevailed between the monas-
tery of St. Augustine's and the Archbishops, notwith-
standing the very peculiar position which St. Augustine's
occupied, as the more immediate dependency of a foreign
ecclesiastical power. The Archbishop not only came
to the monastery when he pleased, to perform religious
offices, but appears to have occasionally taken up his re-
sidence within its walls for change of air and occupation ;
just as a dignitary might now withdraw for relief from
one scene of his duties to another, or from the town into
the country. For a long time, too, the monks of Christ-
church and St. Augustine's seem to have commonly
walked together in religious processions. 8 At length,
in the tenth century, differences sprang up, which seem
to have forced the Holy See upon guarding the dig-
nity of her beloved daughter by fresh and very ex-
clusive privileges. In 955, Pope John XIII. was
obliged to require the monks of Christ-church to
desist from molesting their brethren of St. Augus-
tine's. This was followed up in 1059 by the grant of
the mitre and other pontifical badges from Pope Alex-
ander II. to Egelsine, the abbot of St. Augustine's. On
the abbot's return to England, however, he was obliged
to lay aside these ornaments (the effect of which was
to give him absolute episcopal authority), at the in*
7 See MSS. in the library of Corpus College, Cambridge, as given
in Monast. Angl.
136 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
stance of the king and archbishop, and was compelled
to quit the country. He was succeeded by Scotland, a
Norman, who greatly increased the possessions of the
monastery, but who is charged by Thorn with making
unwarrantable concessions of privilege to Archbishop
Lanfranc. Upon his death Lanfranc, according to Thorn,
(who was himself an abbot of St. Augustine's and writes,
like a partizan,) endeavoured to secure the election of
one of his own monks, but was obliged, though reluct-
antly, to give the benediction to the abbot Wydo, who
was more acceptable to the society. At length, in
1124, the archbishop of the time positively refused
the benediction to an abbot who had the approbation
of the king and of the See of Rome ; the question was
debated in a provincial council, in the presence of the
king and Cardinal Cremona, the Pope's legate, and, in
the end, the Bishop of Chichester was empowered by
the Cardinal, in virtue of his authority as representa-
tive of the Apostolic See, to administer the benediction
under the circumstance of the archbishop's refusal.
From that time the abbots seem to have invariably re-
ceived benediction by a mandate from the Holy See,
with the exception, perhaps, of Abbot Silvester in 1152,
concerning whom accounts differ, and whose formal pro-
fession of obedience to the archiepiscopal see of Canter-
bury is said to have been preserved in the archives of
that church. On the appointment of Abbot Roger in
1173, an ineffectual attempt was made by the arch-
bishop to recover his privilege \ in consequence of which
the abbot went to Rome, received the benediction
from the holy Father himself, and returned with the
mitre and ring, which he forthwith assumed without
opposition. Such accounts do not certainly give a com-
fortable idea of the state of things at the time ; but we
XIII.] MONASTERY OF ST. AUGUSTINE. 137
are happily under no temptation to make such subjects
a matter of criticism, for which we have neither warrant
nor materials.
It now follows to speak of the adverse fortunes of
this once famous monastery.
The first disaster which befel it, was the loss of its
aboriginal privilege, as the burying-place of the arch-
bishops of Canterbury and kings of England. The
kings were not buried here, as would appear, after the
archbishopric of Brithwald, towards the close of the
7th century ; and, about half a century later, Arch-
bishop Cuthbert obtained leave to bury within
churches, and was himself the first archbishop whose
body rested within the cathedral. This act of Arch-
bishop Cuthbert's went far towards producing serious
consequences, but they were averted for the time.
Twenty years afterwards, Lambrith, abbot of St.
Augustine's, came twice to the monastery of Christ-
church, to demand the bodies of Archbishop Cuthbert
and his successor, Bregwin, in order to their burial, ac-
cording to ancient usage, in St. Augustine's monastery.
He was obliged, however, to return without success ;
though, on the latter occasion, he came with an armed
force, intending to carry the bodies away in spite of
resistance. Thereupon, the brethren of St. Augustine's
made an appeal to Rome ; in the mean time, the monks
of Christ-church elected Lambrith to the archbishopric,
and so the differences were adj usted. However, Lambrith
himself was buried, by his own express desire, at St.
Augustine's.
The monastery was often exposed to the fury of the
Danes. Accounts differ as to the extent of injury which
they were able to inflict upon it. If we may believe
the chronicler Thorn, who was himself Abbot of St.
138 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
Augustine's, their designs were signally and providen-
tially frustrated. He says, that when the Danes destroy-
ed Canterbury, under king Etheldred, in 1011, some of
them sacrilegiously entered the monastery of St. Augus-
tine ; and that one of them, more shameless than his
companions, approached the tomb of our Apostle, and
stole the pall with which the tomb was covered, hiding it
under his arm. The account adds, that the pall clung
to his flesh, as if it had been glued, and that the thief,
conscience-stricken, went to the monks and confessed
his fault ; after which the Danes made no farther attacks
upon the monastery. It is true that older chroniclers
take no notice of this miracle ; but one of them relates,
that the abbot of the time was suffered by the Danes to
escape, which agrees, so far, with Thorn's account. On
the whole, though the miracle has been impugned by
some modern authorities, there seems no sufficient
ground for rejecting it, while there are, of course, the
strongest antecedent reasons in its favour. The Pro-
testant Archbishop Parker considers that St. Augustine's
certainly suffered from the Danes ; but he gives no other
reason for the opinion, than the great a priori impro-
bability, that a monastery which had demeaned itself
haughtily towards the archbishops of Canterbury should
have been permitted to escape, when other monasteries
suffered, and the city of Canterbury itself was laid waste.
In 1168, on the Feast of the Beheading of St. John
the Baptist, the monastery was nearly destroyed by fire.
Many ancient documents were consumed, and the shrines
of St. Augustine and other Saints seriously damaged.
Pope Alexander III. confirmed the annexation of the
church of Feversham to the monastery with a view to
the repairs, and farther assigned to it the churches of
Minster and Middleton. In 1271 the abbey suffered
XIII.] MONASTERY OF ST. AUGUSTINE. 139
from the violence of another element, though far less,
apparently, than the neighbouring city. It was,
remarkably enough, on the Feast of the Translation of
St. Augustine. It thundered and lightened all night,
and the rain came down, and for several days after-
wards, in such torrents, that the whole city and sur-
rounding country were well nigh devastated. The water
stood high in the court of the monastery, and in the
church ; but, though the waters raged and swelled, God
was in the midst of her, and she was not removed.
In the reign of Edward I., St. Augustine's, in common
with other religious houses, was materially affected by
the statute of mortmain ; and from that time forward
the annexation of benefices to monasteries, which had
already begun, grew much more frequent than before,
as a compensation to them for the losses they sustained
by the failure of other sources of income. The impro-
priation of livings to religious houses is said to have
arisen in a desire to obviate the risk of disagreements
between the clergymen of churches built upon abbey
lands, and the monks to whom the lands belonged.
But, in process of time, benefices were annexed to mo-
nasteries simply as endowments. The effect of such
vast acquisitions of territory and revenue could not but
have been injurious to the primitive simplicity of mo-
nastic institutions, even if not at variance with their
original idea. Wealth can hardly pass through the hands
without leaving some traces of defilement behind it : the
love of influence which riches foster, even where men ac-
count themselves not as owners, but as mere trustees of
worldly goods ; the consciousness of an almost creative
power which they suggest, even under the most favourable
circumstances, has shipwrecked many a soul which was
comparatively safe against the more vulgar forms of covet-
140 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
ousness, the desire of ostentation, or the appetite for mere
hoarding. It is true that monastic bodies did not seek
the wealth which they received ; and true also, that in
no other quarter could large accumulations of property
have centred with so much advantage to the world at
large ; for monks were proverbially the most considerate
of landlords, the most open-hearted and open-handed of
hosts, and the most liberal of benefactors to the poor.
Yet that, as far as the internal strictness of monastic
institutions is concerned, they degenerated from their
first purity, in proportion as they came to enjoy "great
possessions," seems also undeniable, and what no Catholic
need shrink from denying. If it deduct nothing from
the perfection of the Church itself, that it is like the net
which encloses many kinds of fishes, so does it prove
nothing against the perfection of the monastic theory,
that even those heavenly safe guards against the spirit
of the world which it provides, should themselves have
proved at times insufficient against the power of extra-
ordinary temptations.
Even that infidel writer, who, to our shame, has long
been suffered to guide the youth of this country in form-
ing their views of English history; even Hume him-
self considers it " safest" to confine charges against the
ancient monastic bodies of England to the points of
" idleness," " ignorance," " superstition," and the like, as
distinct from any more glaring crimes ; and has no
hesitation in allowing that the suspicion of flagrant irre-
gularities was propagated upon the slenderest evidence,
in order to give some colour to the attack which was in
contemplation. We might of course go far beyond the
view of the case with which this historian permits us to
close, and grant the justice of many, or even all of the
worst allegations which were made against particular
XIII.] MONASTERY OF ST. AUGUSTINE. 141
monasteries, without so much as advancing one single step
towards justifying the measures which were actually
directed against them. For, first : Ecclesiastical reforms
do not properly come within the province of kings and
parliaments. We cheerfully render to Caesar his own,
but we claim of him in return not to meddle with the
things of God. Secondly : No extent of corruption in
the bodies could have warranted the means actually
taken to cure it. We must not do evil that good may
come. Thirdly : The utmost stretch of charity will not
allow the hope that Henry was actuated in his proceed-
ings by any honest desire of correcting abuses. But we
are spared from the necessity of concessions, even for
argument's sake, which the enemies of the Catholic Faith
themselves do not demand of us.
And yet it is perhaps impossible to look into the records
of the particular monastery which has led to these remarks,
St. Augustine's at Canterbury, without finding reason to
suspect the absence, as time went on, of that high and
heavenly temper to which such bodies are designed to bear
witness, and to which, with whatever drawbacks of earth,
their witness has been on the whole so full and conspicuous.
Fierce contests for prerogative, jealous resistance of en-
croachments, the sort of esprit de corps, which, without
the greatest watchfulness, even religious bodies are in
continual danger of substituting for any higher bond of
union, and motive to zeal, with all its attendant liabili-
ties to haughtiness, ambition, and uncharitableness
such, judging from Thorn's annals of his own monas-
tery, would seem to have been the temptation to which
these societies were peculiarly liable from the time when
the riches of the world began to flow into their treasury.
One cannot but fear, for instance, that the feelings with
which the monks of St. Augustine's, in Thorn's day at
142 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
least, regarded their brethren of Christ-church, was
rather that which we may conceive some powerful col-
lege harbouring towards its rival in the same university,
than that of one member of Christ's body towards one of
its fellow members. There is ever a risk lest minor
spheres of attachment should become ultimate centres of
those affections which they are providentially intended
not to absorb, but to elicit. Such is the peril against
which, so far as we can form an opinion, the brethren of
St. Augustine's seem to have been exposed. We have
already had occasion to notice the harsh and even bitter
terms in which Thorn speaks of Archbishop Lanfranc.
It must also be mentioned, with sorrow, that in one
place the same chronicler seems to give in, almost exult-
ingly, to current stories against the brethren of Christ-
church, as though his own monastery could gain credit
by its sister's disgrace. And yet all reports seem to
agree in giving Christ-church a high character among
the religious establishments of England. To go to a
different point, there is certainly something unsatisfac-
tory in the accounts of those sumptuous entertainments
which monastic bodies were in the practice of giving,
under the plea, and no doubt in the spirit, of hospital-
ity, to the great men of the time. The enthronization
of an archbishop was a more legitimate occasion of such
splendid festivities than seems always to have existed ;
yet one cannot but feel that St. Augustine and his monks
would have been somewhat startled by the bills of fare
in which later abbots appear to have seen nothing but
the natural result of a compliance with St. Paul's in-
junction to hospitality. Several of these documents will
be found in Mr. Somner's History of Canterbury ; and
they indicate, no doubt, a conception of hospitality,
which none can deny to be magnificent, but which be-
XIII.] MONASTERY OF ST. AUGUSTINE. 143
longs rather to this world than to the angelic life of the
cloister. No common man must he have been who,
after one of these sumptuous banquets, could settle down
at once to his pallet of straw, or his simple meal of
fish and eggs ; or who, while the prospect of such
excitements was imminent, or their memory fresh, could
pursue his meditations with the requisite freedom from
disturbance. It is pleasant, however, to turn from
these occasional, and, as we may suppose, rare infringe-
ments of the usual simplicity of monastic life, to the
description of its ordinary routine, as practised in Eng-
land according to the Benedictine rule. Thus we read,
for instance, that " Every monk had his own cell to
himself; a place of repose, where he might sleep undis-
turbed, or give himself freely to prayer and spiritual
exercises, without any kind of molestation from any of
the rest of the brethren.... They had a mat and a hard
pillow to lie down upon, and a blanket or rug to keep,
them warm. They slept in their clothes, girt with gir-
dles, and thereby were always ready to attend their
night devotions at the canonical hours. In the dormi-
tory a perpetual silence was enjoined." However, that,
despite these goodly provisions, the spirit of Dunstan,
Anselm, and Becket was no longer alive in the mo-
nasteries of England, at least in the sixteenth cen-
tury, is but too apparent from the history of their
dissolution. Among the heart-sickening details of that
monstrous sacrilege, there is nothing sadder to con-
template than the criminal facility with which, almost
without exception, the monastic bodies suffered them-
selves to be threatened, or bribed, into the surrender of
an heritage, compared with which, their lives or their
liberties should have seemed but as dust in the balance.
Thus, every officer of St. Augustine's, from the abbot
144 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
downwards, put his hand to a paper, by which the goods
of the house, including all the sacred vessels and orna-
ments of the church, were made over unreservedly and
unconditionally into the king's hands. The reader who
desires further satisfaction on this painful subject will find
in Dugdale two inventories; one, of the church-plate and
ornaments, the other, of the vestments, all of which were
forthwith transferred into the king's treasury. The vest-
ments were pronounced "unfit for his Majesty's use;"
not so, alas ! the church-plate. And thus, the " mon-
strances " and chalices from which the highest Mysteries
had been for ages presented to adoring eyes, or dis-
pensed to faithful souls, were snatched from the very
altars by profane hands, to promote the purposes of
avarice, if not even to serve the uses of luxury. Among
the valuables which are comprised in these catalogues,
were gilt statues of St. Augustine and St. Ethelbert.
St. Augustine's monastery soon fell into ruins, and the
ground on which it stood was let out to the highest bid-
der. Even in days of which reverence for sacred things
and places was so characteristic as those of Charles I. the
profanation of this hallowed spot seems to have attracted
no public notice ; much less, of course, in the ages fol-
lowing. In what way the ground and buildings which
still remain upon it (all of them, it is believed, of com-
paratively modern date) are now portioned out, and for
what purposes they are employed, the reader is probably
aware, or may at least easily inform himself. There is
no need to put the melancholy fact on record ; more es-
pecially since the days seem happily coming round, when
the voice of Catholic England will cry out, not merely
for the protection of such holy enclosures from abuse,
but for their restoration to the objects for which they
were anciently set apart. But it is time to resume the
thread of our narrative.
XIV.] MISSION OF ST. MELLITUS, ETC. 145
CHAPTER XIV.
MISSION OF ST. MELLITUS AND HIS COMPANIONS.
THE chronology of the epoch to which these pages
relate is not a little perplexed ; but the following ar-
rangement of events according to dates, which is taken
from Alford, will perhaps, be found sufficiently exact for
the purposes of the present sketch. St. Augustine and
his brethren arrived in England in the spring of 596, in
the midst of the Paschal Alleluias. King Ethelbert
and others were admitted into the Church by baptism at
Pentecost of the same year soon after which St. Augus-
tine repaired to Aries for consecration, which he re-
ceived on November 17. He returned to England in
598, at the Christmas of which year, or rather early in
the January of 599, took place the baptism of the
10,000 converts, mentioned in St. Gregory's letter to
Eulogius. 1 In the same year, 599, St. Augustine dis-
patched messengers to Rome, the very messengers, pro-
bably, from whom St. Gregory derived his information
on the prosperous state of the English mission. 2 These
1 Vid. p. 111. This letter was written in the summer of 599, and
speaks of the baptism of the 10,000 converts, as having taken place at
Christmas of the current (first) year of the Indiction, which began in
September 598.
2 St. Bede, however, says that the messengers were sent imme-
diately (continue) on St. Augustine's return from Aries ; but this,
L
146 ST. AUGUSTINE. [OH-
were Laurence, a presbyter, and St, Augustine's suc-
cessor in the See of Canterbury; and Peter, a monk,
afterwards the first abbot of St. Augustine's monastery.
The objects of this embassy were, among others, first, to
report the progress of the mission, secondly, to ask for
additional missionaries, and, thirdly, to obtain the judg-
ment of the Apostolic See upon certain difficult questions
to which the anomalous circumstances of the Church in
England had given, or were likely to give, occasion.
These questions, with their several answers, shall form
the subject of the next chapter.
The delegates continued two full years at Rome ; and
at length, in 601, came back to England with a rein-
forcement of twelve missionaries, the chief of whom were,
Mellitus, Justus, Paulinus, and Ruffinianus. Of these,
the three former were afterwards raised to the Episco-
pate, and attained the glories of sanctity. St. Mellitus
was the first Bishop of London, St. Justus the first
Bishop of Rochester, and St. Paulinus the first Arch-
bishop of York. Of the fourth, Ruffinianus, we know
only that he was one of the earlier among the Abbots of
St. Augustine's.
The new missionaries were charged, like their prede-
cessors, with letters commendatory to the prelates and
sovereign princes of that portion of France through
which they were to pass. To each of the Bishops of
Toulon, Marseilles, Chalons, Metz, Paris, Rouen, and
Angers, St. Gregory wrote as follows :
perhaps, refers to the intention of sending them, or the preparation for
their journey. They certainly did not return to England till b'Ol, and
it does not appear why they should have remained at Rome three
years, or even more, if we follow those who consider that the baptism
of the 10,000 took place in 597, and that St. Augustine had then re-
turned from Aries.
XIV.] MISSION OF ST. MELLITUS, ETC. 147
GREGORY TO MENNAS OF TOULON, SERENUS OF MARSEILLES,
LUPUS OF CHALONS, AIGULFUS OF METZ, SIMPLICIUS OF
PARIS, MELANTIUS OF ROUEN, AND LICINIUS, 3 BISHOPS OF
THE FRANKS. A copy to each.
" ALTHOUGH the charge of jour office is a warning to
your Fraternity that you ought with all your power to
give your assistance to religious men, particularly where
they are labouring in the cause of souls ; yet it is not
useless for your anxiety to be urged by the address of
our letters ; for as a fire is increased by the wind, so the
zeal of an honest mind is promoted by exhortation.
Since, then, by the grace of our Redeemer, so great a
multitude of the English nation is converted to the
Christian Faith, that our most reverend common brother
and fellow-bishop Augustine, declares that those who are
with him cannot sufficiently carry out this work in
every different place, we have provided for sending to
him some monks with our much beloved and common
sons, Laurence, the Presbyter, and Mellitus, Abbot,
And, therefore, I beg your Fraternity to shew them such
love as is becoming, and readily to aid them wherever
it may be necessary ; that so by your assistance they
may have no reason for delay, and may receive joy and
refreshment by means of the comfort which you will
give them, and that you by shewing them kindness, may
render yourselves partners in the cause, for which they
are engaged." 4
With this was joined a letter to Clotaire, who reigned
over the provinces of Austrasia, Neustria, and Burgundy.
3 The see of Licinius was Angers.
4 St. Greg. Ep. xi. 58.
148 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
GREGORY TO CLOTAIRE, KING OF THE FRANKS. 5
" AMIDST the many cares and anxieties which you un-
dergo in governing the nations which are subject to you,
that you should aid those who are labouring in the
cause of God, is a subject of singular praise, and will
bring upon you a high reward. And since by your
previous good acts you have proved yourself such that
we may presume still better things of you, we are most
gladly urged to beg of you what will redound to your
recompense. Some of those who went with our most
reverend brother and fellow-bishop, Augustine, to the
English nation, told us on their return, with what
charity your Excellence had refreshed our said brother
during his stay with you, and how you had succoured
and assisted him on his way. But since their works are
ever pleasing to our God, who do not turn back from the
good which they have begun, we greet you with our
fatherly affection, and beg of you to consider the Monks,
the bearers of these presents, whom we have sent to our
before-mentioned brother, together with our well-beloved
sons, Laurence, Presbyter, and Mellitus, Abbot, as espe-
cially commended to you. And whatever kindness you
shewed before to him, bestow more abundantly upon
them also, and thus increase the amount of your praise ;
5 Clotaire, the younger, was son of Chilperic, grandson of Clotaire
the elder, and great-grandson of Clovis. He became king at four years
of age, on the murder of his father. He was first cousin of Childebert,
son and successor of Sigebert, and by him and his sons Theoderic and
Theodebert (of whom before) was attacked, defeated, and stripped of
a great part of his dominions ; so that for a long time he reigned in a
part of Neustria alone. But after the death of Theoderic and Theode-
bert and their grandmother, Brunehault, he gained a great victory over
their sons and became monarch of the three provinces of Austrasia,
Neustria, and Burgundy.
XIV.] MISSION OF ST. MELLITUS, ETC. 149
that so, whilst by the help of your assistance they ac-
complish the journey upon which they have entered,
Almighty God may recompense you for your good deeds,
being your Guardian in prosperity and your Help under
adversity." 6
St. Gregory wrote also to Brunehault, the queen-
regent, thanking her for her hospitable reception of St.
Augustine on his passage through France four years
before, and craving the like protection in behalf of the
new missionaries.
GREGORY TO BRUNEHAULT, QUEEN OF THE FRANKS.
" WE render thanks to Almighty God, who, amongst
other gifts of His loving kindness which He has bestowed
upon your Excellence, has so filled you with love for the
Christian religion, that whatever you know tends to the
good of souls and propagation of the Faith, you cease not
to labour therein with devout and pious zeal. But with
what kindness and aid your Excellence assisted our most
reverend brother and fellow-bishop, Augustine, on his
way to the English nation, report was not silent, and
afterwards some monks on their return from him to us,
related the matter in detail. This Christian conduct of
yours may be a subject of wonder to others, who are, as
yet, less familiarly acquainted with your good deeds ;
but to us, who are already familiar with them by expe-
rience, they are not so much a subject of wonder as of
joy, because, hereby, in all that you bestow on others
you assist yourself. What great miracles then our
Redeemer has wrought in the conversion of the above-
mentioned nation, is already known to your Excellence 7 .
6 St. Greg. Ep. xi. 61.
7 St. Augustine may have brought the tidings to Queen Brunehault,
at Chalons, on his way to Aries for his consecration.
150 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
And this ought to be a subject of great joy to you, since
the comfort which you have afforded claims for you a share
in the event, inasmuch as it was by your assistance, after
God, that the word of preaching was then made known.
For whoever assists another's good work, makes it his own.
But that the fruit of your reward may be more and
more abundant, we beg of you kindly to extend the aid
of your countenance to the monks, the bearers of these
presents, whom we have sent with our well-beloved sons
Laurence, the Presbyter, and Mellitus, Abbot, to our be-
fore-mentioned most reverend brother and fellow-bishop,
(since he tells us that those who are with him cannot
sufficiently assist him,) and that you would deign to aid
them in every thing : that so, whilst the good beginnings
of your Excellence are followed by still better, and they
are prevented meeting with any delay or difficulty, you
may move the mercy of our God towards yourself and
your grandsons, who are so dear to us, in proportion
as you shew yourself merciful for the love of Him in
cases of this kind 8 .
With these letters were included others, to Desiderius,
Virgilius, ./Etherius, and Arigius, Bishops, respectively,
of Vienne, Aries, Lyons, and Gap in Dauphiny. The
Pope wrote also to the two young sovereign princes,
Theoderic and Theodebert, in nearly the same terms
as to their grandmother, queen Brunehault.
No particulars of the journey have come down to us ;
it lay through the same line of country which, four
years before, had been illustrated by the progress of St.
Augustine himself, and the sees were, generally, filled
by the same occupants as on the previous occasion.
Laurence and Peter, too, who were of the party, had
8 St. Greg. Ep. xi. 62.
XIV.] MISSION OF ST. MELLITUS, ETC. 151
been in the number of St. Augustine's companions.
How many thoughts of sweet remembrance, how many
topics of edifying speech must the admonitus locorum
have awakened ! " Here we prayed for England ; here
we almost fainted on our way ; here our venerable father
cheered our drooping spirits by this exhortation ; here
he struck awe among the beholders by that miracle."
What pleasant recognitions, too, and mutual good offi-
ces, and interchanges of congratulation between the
hospitable prelates and the representatives of the original
mission ! what questions about England, heathen and
Christian, what rejoicing in its blessedness, what antici-
pation of its prospects !
By the hands of the new missionaries, the holy father
sent all things necessary for the more solemn and edifying
celebration of Divine worship ; such as, " sacred vessels,
altar-plate, and altar-coverings, ornaments for the
Church, priestly and other clerical vestments, many
relics of apostles and martyrs," (among which are'
believed to have been some of St. Peter and St. Paul,
the tutelaries of the new metropolitan Church), " and a
quantity of books 9."
When Christianity was first introduced, it made its
way without the advantage of those exterior embellish-
ments which came with its advance. It " travelled in
the greatness" of its " own strength." First, it vanquish-
ed the world, in part, with weapons of its own celestial
temper ; next, it spoiled the vanquished of their arms,
theirs by long possession indeed, yet not of inherent
right j and thus, having " made the creature its weapon,"
it proceeded on its march of conquest. Was it not in-
deed thus ] Noble architecture, impressive pictures,
thrilling music, glorious ceremonial ; these were of later
9 S. Bede, H. E. i. 29.
152 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
growth and less native origin. The earliest Christian
Church was an attic, the first baptisteries, way-side pools,
St. Paul and St. Silvanus sang their nocturns in a dungeon.
And yet, withal, " mightily grew the word of God, and
prevailed," till, at length, the Church awoke, like her
Lord before her, from the tomb, and put on her strength,
yea, "put on her beautiful garments." The order of
her triumphs was the same here in England as in the
world at large. She won her way by miracle, and kept
her ground through sanctity, the outward and inward
tokens of the Holy Ghost. Not until her foundations
were laid deep and broad, did the great Master Builder
see fit to rear the august superstructure and elaborate
the curious details. Not less acceptable was the offering
of the Adorable Sacrifice in St. Martin's or St. Pancras,
though there were, as yet, no long-drawn aisles to give
scope for stately processions, nor spacious courts to re-
ceive and circulate the undulations of holy psalmody
than, at a later time, when a Becket sang Mass, with all
the means and appliances of solemn worship, in Lan-
franc's goodly pile. Not, of course, that the infant
Church of Saxon England was ever, even in its rudest
state, any more than the Church of the Apostles, neglect-
ful of those external proprieties which are as the beam-
ing features of the Church's inward soul, significant of
her beauty, and radiant with love. Liturgical writers
have taught that the majestic forms and delicate pro-
prieties of ceremonial were observed, as far as circum-
stances permitted, even in the days of the Apostles ; and
that ere, as yet, the world suffered the Church to do
what she would have wished, the Church was yet fain, with
loving Magdalene, to do what she could. And the solemn
processions, the sacred insignia, the entoned litanies, the
illuminated sanctuaries, of which we read as concomitant
XIV.] MISSION OF ST. MELLITUS, ETC. 153
with the earliest steps of the Church on its revival
in our own country, are indicative, surely, of the
like pious disposition. Still the general assertion
remains untouched, that the Church gained hearts
and consciences on her side before she disclosed
herself in all the attributes of outward pomp and
beauty ; and this, both in the world at large, and
specially in England. Let not such lessons be thrown
away on those among ourselves to whom may seem to
have been allotted a work not wholly dissimilar from
that of our first missionaries. Let us not begin at the
wrong end, by studying the forms of the sanctuary
before the science of the Saints ; but rather let us un-
derstand that outward beauty is the development of true
piety, not its compensation. On the other hand, let us
not be led by any fear of one extreme, to even so much
as an apparent closing with its opposite, which, if men
would but bear in mind the true nature and right place
of religious ceremonial, must be accounted hardly a less
pernicious one. That innate sense of the graceful and
majestic, for why is it implanted by God, but that it
may exercise itself upon His works, whether of nature
or of grace 1 Those precious offerings of earth, those
marvellous ingenuities of man, shall they be exhausted
on this sorry world, to perish "with the using," yea,
(must it not be said ?) and too often " with the users "?
That were surely to feign, with heretics of old, that
creation is the work of some spirit of evil, radically and
hopelessly corrupt, not the gift of our gracious Lord,
which He made " very good," and which the Holy Ghost
has re-made, in His Church, more glorious than at the
first, even filling the whole world with His illustrious
and Life-giving Presence, and so " making new the face
of the earth."
154 ST. AUGUSTINE. [~CH.
CHAPTER XV.
QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS ON THE ENGLISH CHURCH.
ONE of the first objects of St. Augustine, upon his
return from Aries, was, as stated in the former Chapter,
to obtain from Rome a series of authoritative directions
for the ordering of the English Church.
A modern objector has ventured upon ascribing this
desire to a discreditable want of learning ; yet, not to
speak of St. Gregory's own testimony to his high qua-
lifications in this respect, 1 nothing, surely, could be
more natural than that a solitary bishop, in a distant
, land, and that a land but recently in any degree, and
still but in part, reclaimed from the enormities of a
dark and cruel superstition, should seek a solution of
the many ecclesiastical problems to which the anomalies
of the case would continually give rise ; and should apply
for it to the quarter to which all the feelings of duty
prompted him, and all the sanctions of precedent re-
quired him, to look up with reverence and submission.
Some of the following inquiries will be seen to refer
directly to the case of an infant Church, others to local
peculiarities of the Church in England, and all of them
to bear upon subjects more or less incidental to St.
Augustine's peculiar position.
The first Question submitted by the new Archbishop
to the judgment of the Holy See, related to the manner
1 Vid. infra, p. 174.
XV.] QUESTIONS ON THE ENGLISH CHURCH. 155
in which bishops should live among their clergy, and
the several objects for which, and proportions in which,
the offerings of the faithful are to be distributed.
The former part of this Question St. Gregory answers
by reminding the Archbishop of the different Scripture
passages bearing upon the conduct and deportment of
those whom God sets over His heritage ; and more espe-
cially of the instructions to bishops contained in the
Epistle of St. Paul to Timothy. He farther recom-
mends under the actual circumstances of the English
Church, that the bishops and clergy should live together,
as in the primitive age ; partaking of their meals at the
same table, and throwing their property into a common
stock. In other words, they were to conform precisely
to the rules of monastic discipline ; " in which" says St.
Gregory to the Archbishop, " your Fraternity is well
versed." 2 So it is, indeed, that the words in the Acts of
the Apostles which depict the life and conversation of
the first Christians might be taken for the description of
a monastic society. " The multitude of them that be-
lieved were of one heart and of one soul ; neither said
any of them that aught of the things which he possessed
was his own, but they had all things common." 3 It is
sometimes asked, where, in later times, has this primitive
type been fulfilled ? And certain separatists have tried,
with more zeal than knowledge, to restore the life of
the earliest Christians by abrupt, violent, and, therefore,
unlawful methods. But, in truth, the question of the
one class has been practically answered, and the attempts
of the other anticipated and superseded, by an institution
which has subsisted in regular form throughout all ages
of the Church.
2 Cf. also S. Greg. ep. xi. 66. 3 Acts iv. 32.
156 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
To return to St. Gregory's Reply. With respect to
the distribution of offerings, he writes : " It is the
practice of the Apostolic See to deliver instructions to
bishops at their consecration, to the effect, that every
payment which accrues is to be divided into four por-
tions ; one, for the Bishop and his household, towards
the discharge of the duties of hospitality and reception ;
one for the clergy ; the third for the poor ; the fourth
for the repair of the fabrics." 4
As to such " clerks, not being in holy orders, as had
not the gift of continence," 5 the Pope determines that
" they should be allowed to marry, and receive their
stipend at their own houses." For " of the primitive
Christians" he adds, " it is recorded, that ' distribution
was made unto every man according as he had need.'" 6
With respect to their stipend, he recommends " care
and circumspection," and that they should be " bound
by ecclesiastical rule to observe a strict conversation, and
pay attention to divine psalmody, keeping their hearts
and tongues and bodies, by God's help, clear of all
irregularity." 7
4 Vide other instances in which this quadripartite division is en-
joined in St. Gregory's Epistles, viz. lib. iv. ep. 11, lib. v. ep. 44,
lib. viii. ep. 7, lib. xiii. ep. 44.
5 In the Benedictine edition of St. Gregory's works, this forms the
answer to a separate Question, the second in order, viz. "An clerici
continere non valentes, possint contrahere, et, si contraxerint, an de-
beant ad seculum redire ?"
6 Acts iv. 35.
7 Bishops, Priests, and Deacons were obliged to a single life from
very early times. (Vid. a full note to the Oxford translation of
Fleury's Ecclesiastical History, Book xix. c. 22.) Pope St. Leo, (A.D.
446) extended the rule to sub-deacons, who, however, in Sicily, were
not included till the time of St. Gregory the Great, A.D. 590. (Lib. i. ep.
44.) Those whom St. Gregory here allows to marry are Clerici, i. e.
XV.] QUESTIONS ON THE ENGLISH CHURCH. 157
To those who were to live in community, he judges it
less needful to speak of " equitable distribution, and the
duties of hospitality and mercy, seeing it is plain, that
all superfluity is to be expended in the service of re-
ligion and godliness, according to our Lord's precept,
' Give alms of such things as ye have, and, behold, all
things are clean unto you." 8
The Second, or, as it is in some copies, the Third,
Question, bore upon the ritual of religion. St. Augus-
tine during his stay in France, had the opportunity of
becoming acquainted with the Gallican Missal, which
differed from the Roman in several respects. It had
been set in order by St. Hilary, Bishop of Poictiers, in
the 4th, and Sidonius, Bishop of Auvergne, and Musseus,
in the 5th centuries, and continued distinct from the
Roman till the time of Charleniagne.9 St. Augustine
was impressed by the fact of this discrepancy of rite in
nations which were members of the same Church, and
submitted his difficulties in the following words :
" Seeing that there is but one Faith, why do the
customs of Churches vary, so that one Order for the Mass
prevails in the Roman Church, and another in that of
France?" 1
St. Gregory's reply was as follows :
"Your Fraternity is familiar with the practice of
the Roman Church 3 in which, as you well know, you
were brought up. But if you have found what may
be more acceptable to Almighty God, whether in the
Roman, French, or any other Church, I would have
you carefully select and introduce, as by special ap-
the " clerks," of the lower orders, including, probably, the sub-deacons.
Vid. Ducange, Glossar. " Clericus."
8 St. Luke xi. 41. 9 Vid. Palmer's Orig. Liturg.
1 This is the reading of the Benedictine editors.
158 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
pointment, into the English Church (which is as yet
but young in the Faith) what you have thus been able
to cull from many Churches. Things are not to be loved
for the places where they are found, but rather places for
the good things which they possess. Choose, therefore, from
each Church whatever is devout, religious, and right ;
form them into a single collection, and lodge them in the
minds of the English, for the use of the Church."
It does not appear that the Archbishop availed himself
of this permission. The original service-books of the
Anglo-Saxon Church were, probably, a mere transcript
of the Sacramentary of St. Gregory, into which local va-
riations were by degrees introduced under the sanction
of the bishops of certain dioceses. Hence, the well-
known " Uses" of York, Sarum, Hereford, Bangor, Lin-
coln, Aberdeen, &c. After the Council of Trent, in the
Pontificate of Pius V., an uniform rite was established
in the Churches of the Roman obedience, excepting such
as could plead the use of other forms of service for up-
wards of two centuries. England, had it come under
the operation of that decree, would have formed one of
the exceptions.
St. Augustine's next question was as follows : " What
punishment is to be inflicted on one who commits theft
in a Church f
St. Gregory, in reply, advises a distinction of punish-
ment according to the circumstances of the culprit. In
the case of wealthier offenders, he proposes the confisca-
tion of goods ; the poorer, he would have punished with
stripes, more or fewer, according to the amount of guilt.
But where severer measures are adopted, all, he says,
should be done in charity, nought in anger ; since it is
the object of punishments not to satisfy the vindictive
feelings of the injured party, but to correct the offender,
XV.] QUESTIONS ON THE ENGLISH CHURCH. 159
and anticipate the sufferings of another life. " For we
ought," adds the holy Pontiff, "to exercise discipline
towards the faithful, as good fathers are wont to do to-
wards their children after the flesh, whom they beat for
their faults, and yet design to appoint their heirs at
the very time when they are thus painfully chastising
them ; thus reserving their goods for those whom they
seem to be chiding in anger. This charity, then, should
be ever observed, and should regulate the measure of
correction, that so the mind may do nothing whatever
without the rule of reason. You shall add, also, how
they are to make restoration for what they have stolen
out of a church : but God forbid that the Church should
receive with increase what she appears to lose of earthly
possessions, or seek to make a gain of the things of
vanity."
The next questions of the Archbishop refer to the
case of marriage between kindred and connections.
First, as to the marriage of two brothers with two sisters
not nearly related to them.
" Against this," answers the Pope, " there is no law of
God, and we allow it by all means,"
Secondly, "Within what degree of affinity may the
faithful contract marriages with relatives'? And may
marriages be lawfully undertaken with a step-mother, or
with a brother's wife ? "
Upon the former point, St. Gregory replies with a spe-
cial reference to the circumstances of the English Church.
The prohibition, anciently extended to the seventh de-
gree of relationship j but at the Lateran Council, under
Pope Innocent III., it was reduced to the fourth. In
consideration, however, of the peculiar circumstances
which suggested a reason for the utmost indulgence to-
wards England, St. Gregory so far relaxes the rule as to
160 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
sanction marriages between third cousins. 2 His answer
is as follows :
" There is a merely political enactment of the Roman
state, which allows the marriage of first cousins, whether
the son and daughter of brother and sister, or of two own
brothers, or of two own sisters. But we have learned by ex-
perience, that children never thrive which are the issue of
such alliances ; and in the case of a brother's wife, the Law
of God forbids it. 3 It follows, therefore, that the faithful
should not be allowed to marry within the third or fourth
degree of consanguinity ; within the second, as I have
said, they ought by all means to abstain. But to marry
a father's second wife is a great crime ; for it is expressly
written in the Law, ' Turpitudinem patris tui non dis-
cooperies.' 4 But since it is written, 'they shall be one
flesh ;' 5 whoever shall presume to break this law in the
case of a father's wife, has, in fact, broken it in the case
of a father. It is also forbidden that a person marry a
brother's wife, since, by her former marriage, she had be-
come one flesh with his brother. And in this cause it
was that John Baptist was beheaded, and perfected
by holy martyrdom ; for, though he was not required to
deny Christ, yet for confessing Christ was he slain. For,
since our Lord Jesus Christ had said, ' I am the Truth,'
and it was for the Truth that St. John was put to death,
he did truly shed his blood for Christ.
" Since, however, many among the English are re-
ported to have already contracted such wicked marriages,
let them be admonished, on coming to the Faith, to keep
continence, and to recognize this as a grievous sin. Let
them fear the terrible judgment of God, lest, for their
Quarta progenie conjunct!. 3 Lev. xviii. 1 6.
Ib. xviii. 7. 5 Gen. ii. 24.
XV.] QUESTIONS ON THE ENGLISH CHURCH. 161
carnal affection, they incur the torments of eternal
punishment. They are not, however, on this account
to be deprived of the communion of our Lord's sacred
Body and Blood ; that sins committed by them, through
ignorance, before the laver of Baptism, may not seem to
be visited upon them. For, at such times, some things
Holy Church corrects with zeal, some she tolerates in
gentleness, some she winks at in tenderness, and so
bears and dissembles, as frequently by this means to
check the evil which she opposes. But let all who
come to the Faith be admonished not to venture upon
committing any such sin. And should any (after ad-
monition) be guilty of so doing, let them be deprived of
the communion of our Lord's Body and Blood ; for, as
in the case of those who have acted through ignorance,
the fault is entitled to a certain amount of indulgence,
so is it to be strongly followed up with punishment
in the case of those who are not afraid to sin with
knowledge."
It is not quite clear whether St. Gregory's permission
of marriages between third cousins were prospective as
well as retrospective ; possibly it may have gone merely
against the separation of those who, being thus nearly
related, were united in marriage at the time when they
joined the Church. Even this amount of indulgence,
however, gave umbrage in some parts of Christendom, as
we learn from a letter of Felix, bishop of Messina, who,
upon hearing of the allowance granted to the English
Church, addressed a letter of respectful and affectionate
expostulation to the Roman Pontiff. The language, in-
deed, of profound reverence and submission with which
the holy Bishop introduces and tempers his objections,
is a token no less of the deference paid in early times to
the judgment of the Apostolic See, than of the high
162 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
estimation in which the reigning Pontiff was held by the
contemporary prelates of Christendom. The letter is so
interesting, indeed, in many points of view, that al-
though but in part only applicable to the immediate
subject, it has been thought well to give it almost
entire.
FELIX, BISHOP OF MESSINA, TO GREGORY.
" To the most blessed and honoured Lord, and holy
Father, Gregory, Pope, Felix, of his love towards your
health and holiness, sends greeting.
" The laws of your blessed health and holiness are
manifest before God. While all the earth is filled with
your apostolic lessons and exhortations, and diligent
culture of the true Faith, the orthodox Church of Christ
founded by institution of the Apostles, and most firmly
strengthened by our fathers in the Faith, is built up by
the instructions of your divine eloquence, and the power
of your hortatory admonitions. To which Church all
the blessed Apostles, endued with an equal share of
honour and authority, converted the multitude of the
people, bringing them over, piously and holily, from
darkness to light, from depths of ignorance to the true
Faith, from death to life, even those whom Divine grace
foreknew and predestinated, by means of their whole-
some precepts and admonitions. The glorious merits
of which holy Apostles are followed by your Paternity,
who, perfectly treading in the steps of their examples,
adorns the Church of God by the integrity of your life
and holiness of your deeds, and, in the full vigour of sound
faith and Christian conversation, with pontifical zeal,
unceasingly labours to perform and carry out those
precepts, well-pleasing to God, which in teaching you
XV.] QUESTIONS ON THE ENGLISH CHURCH. 163
inculcate ; thus truly observing the rule of the Divine
law, which says, in the words of the Apostle, ' Not the
hearers of the law are just before God, but the doers of
the law shall be justified.' 6
" In the midst of such reflections, news was brought
us by persons from Rome, that you had written to
Augustine, our comrade, afterwards, by commission of
your venerable Holiness, consecrated Bishop of the Eng-
lish nation, and directed thither, and through him
to the English, (who, we are informed, have been
by you converted to the Faith,) forbidding the separa-
tion of married persons related to one another in the
fourth degree of affinity. .In the parts where I was
for a long time brought up and educated with you,
no such practice existed, nor have I ever met with it
in the decrees of any among your predecessors, or
in the institutes, whether general, or special, of our
fathers ; nor did I ever before hear of any among the
Church's wisest doctors granting such an indulgence.
On the contrary, I have always learned from your pious
predecessors, and the other holy fathers, gathered to-
gether as well in the Council of Nicsea, as in other holy
councils, that continence should be maintained between
relatives up to the seventh degree, and I have ever
found this law studiously kept by men who live holily
and in the fear of God
" There are certain churches in our province whose
consecration is doubtful; it cannot be ascertained,
either through length of time or the carelessness of those
who have had charge of them, whether or not they were
dedicated by bishops. On all which points we implore
advice from your Holiness, and the authority of your
6 Rom. ii. 13.
164 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
Holy See> And again, whether the instructions which,
as we say, we understand to have been given to our
fellow-bishop Augustine, and to the English nation,
were meant specially for them or generally for all.
Upon this and the other aforesaid matters, we desire
full and satisfactory information. Far be it from us to
signify to you the result of our study and experience in
the way of reproof; all we desire is, to know what
practice we are in reason, as in faith, to adopt in all
these several particulars. And inasmuch as no small
stir has been occasioned by these tidings, we wish to
learn from you as from the supreme head, what replies
we are to give our brethren and fellow-bishops, so that
we may not continue in doubt upon these subjects, and
that this complaint may not now and hereafter be rife
among ourselves and others ; nor the report of you,
which was ever of the best, be torn to pieces, or sup-
planted by calumnies, and your name (which God for-
bid !) be evil spoken of in time to come. As for our-
selves, we maintain, by God's grace, all right things in
all lowliness of heart ; with you we are united in the
one bond of charity ; and while, as becomes faithful
disciples, we vindicate your religious practice in all
things, we look to you for guidance in the right course.
For we are aware that the prelates of the Holy See, first
the Apostles, and afterwards their successors, have ever
constituted you guardian of the Catholic Church, espe-
cially of bishops, who from their habits of contemplation,
and the watch they keep over Christ's flock, are called
His Eyes ; and have given it you in charge to meditate
on subjects relating to our faith and practice, as it is
written, ' Blessed is the man . . . who shall meditate on
the law of the Lord day and night.' 7 And this medi-
7 Vid. Ps. i. 2.
XV.] QUESTIONS ON THE ENGLISH CHURCH. 165
tation is not only witnessed by the eyes of readers in
the visible shape of letters, but is known to be im-
movably implanted in your conscience, through the
grace of Christ, that richly abounds in you. For at no
time is the holy law of Christ our Lord withdrawn from
your heart, according to the words of the prophet in the
book of Psalms, ' The mouth of the righteous is exer-
cised in wisdom, and his tongue will be talking of
judgment.' 'The law of his God is in his heart,' 8
written among your secrets, not with ink, but with the
Spirit of the Living God ; and therefore not on tables
of stone, but on the tables of the heart. Let all our
darkness, then, be dispelled, we entreat, by the timely
wisdom of your replies and assistance, that the Day-
star may everywhere, through you, most holy Father,
beam upon us, and your dogmatic decision cause uni-
versal joy ; since the glorious fathers of Holy Church
are known to proclaim their own godly determinations,
to the strengthening of the inheritance of eternal life.
In fine, we pray that the Lord may preserve you, holy
Father of fathers, in safety, and acceptance with Him,
for ever, and may hear your prayers for us. Ameri."
St. Gregory replied in a letter of considerable length,
from which the following is extracted :
" To the most reverend our brother Felix, Bishop,
Gregory, servant of the servants of God.
" Our Head, who is Christ, would have us His mem-
bers to this end, that of His bounteous love and our
faith in Him, He might make us one body in Himself,
and that we might so cleave to it, that, as without Him
we can be nothing, we may, through Him, be all that
we are said to be. From this citadel of our Head let
8 Ps. xxxvii. 31. [xxxvi. 30, 31, Vulg.]
166 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
nothing tear us, lest, declining to be His member, we be
forsaken of Him, and wither away as cast-off shoots of
the Vine. To the end, then, we may deserve to be the
dwelling-place of our Redeemer, let us, with all the
earnestness of our minds, abide in His love ; for Him-
self saith, c If a man love me, he will keep my words,
and my Father will love him, and We will come unto
him, and make Our abode with him. '9 Now your Affec-
tion, dearest brother, has required us to give, by autho-
rity of the Apostolic See, an answer to your inquiries.
And this we would hasten to do, not at length, but con-
cisely, by reason of certain engagements which have
come upon us through the hindrances arising from our
sins. To your studious labours, however, we commit
this matter, that you may follow up the investigation of
it, and discover what light other institutions of the
fathers throw upon it. For it is impossible that a
mind harassed and oppressed by burdens and engage-
ments, can pursue such inquiries with the same advan-
tage, and speak of the matter with the same freedom, as
one which is full of glee, and quite at ease. These
apologies we do not offer with the view of refusing your
Holiness the necessary information which you desire,
but to the end you may investigate the more exten-
sively, on account of the very limited satisfaction we
afford you
" As to my communications with Augustine, bishop
of the English nation, and, as you remember, your
disciple, on the subject of marriage between relatives,
you must understand, that I wrote specially for himself
and the English nation, which has been lately brought
over to the Faith, to the end it might not fall back
9 John xiv. 23.
XV.] QUESTIONS ON THE ENGLISH CHURCH. 167
from the good it had attained, through dread of an
over-severe discipline, and not generally for the rest of
Christendom. And accordingly, the whole city of Rome
is my witness, that I did not give these instructions to
them with the intention, that when firmly rooted in the
Faith, those who were found to have married within
nearer than the prescribed degrees of consanguinity
should not be separated ; or, again, that those should be
united who might chance to stand towards each other in
any closer relation than that of sixth cousin ; but those
who are still novices it is often fitting to warn, in the
first place, both by teaching and example, against what
is plainly unlawful, and at once, as a dictate of reason,
and an act of faith, to keep out of sight what they will
afterwards have to do in such matters. For, after the
Apostle, who says, 1 1 have fed you with milk, and not
with meat/ 1 we have granted this indulgence to them
alone, (as we have said above,) and not to their pos-
terity, in order that the good which has not yet taken
firm root, may not be plucked up, but may be strength-
ened, according to its beginning, and kept safely, till it
arrives at perfection. Verily, if herein we have done
otherwise than was meet, you must not ascribe the fault
to laxity, but to excess of commiseration : and that such
it is, I call God to witness, who knoweth the thoughts
of all men, to whose eyes all things are naked and open.
For, were I to destroy what our predecessors have esta-
blished, I should be found not a builder up, but a
caster down, according to the witness of the Truth,
who says, i A kingdom divided against itself shall
not stand/ and every science and law which is at vari-
ance with itself must come to nought. Needful, then,
1 1 Cor. iii. 2.
168 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
is it we should all hold fast, with one accord, the insti-
tutions of our holy fathers, doing nought by contention,
but, being of one mind for every object of pure devotion,
let us, with the help of God, be obedient to all Divine
and Apostolical appointments."
What English heart but must be moved by such
touching proofs of the holy Father's tenderness towards
our country ? What a pledge to us these loving ex-
pressions of his still active watchfulness over the people
of his care ! And then he breaks forth into the follow-
ing strain of affectionate rapture :
" how good a thing is charity, which mutually re-
veals the hearts of the absent, through the power of
imagination, of the present, through the exercise of
affection ! which is the healer of divisions, the composer
of disorders, the harmonizer of inequalities, the finisher
of imperfect works ! How truly does the model of
preachers call thee the l bond of perfectness !' since the
other virtues are the parents of perfection, but Charity
so knits them together, that from the mind of one who
loves they can by no means be dissevered.
" In this judgment it was that I tempered my in-
structions by the law of charity, and gave, not a precept,
but a counsel ; nor was it a rule in this case which
I delivered for the observance of posterity, but of two
dangers I pointed out that for avoidance which was the
easier to avoid."
St. Augustine's next question was suggested by the
difficulty of finding the proper number of bishops to
act at the consecration of one of their order. The
Councils of Nicaea and Aries, and the Third of Carthage,
made the presence of three essential ; though the Apo-
stolical Canons recognize consecrations with but one
assistant prelate. But, in cases of extremity, consecra-
XV.] QUESTIONS ON THE ENGLISH CHURCH. 169
tion by a single bishop had been admitted, as in the
instance of Siderius, Bishop of Palaobisca, and afterwards
Metropolitan of Ptolemais, whose consecration was re-
cognized and confirmed by St. Athanasius. On the
strength of this and other precedents, St. Gregory dis-
pensed with the rule in the case of the first bishop con-
secrated in the English Church. At the same time
he required the Archbishop of Canterbury to make pro-
vision against the recurrence of such an anomaly. The
question and answer are as follows.
Question. "If, owing to the length of distance,
bishops cannot easily meet, ought one to be consecrated
without the presence of others 1"
Answer. " In the English Church, in which you
are as yet the only bishop, you cannot ordain a bishop
otherwise than without the presence of others ; for
when do bishops come from France to be present at
the consecration of one of their order ? But we would
have your Fraternity take care that the bishops whom
you ordain are placed at the shortest possible distance
from one another, that so there may be no hindrance
to the meeting, at an episcopal consecration, of other
pastors whose presence is so important. When, then,
by the Divine help, you have thus ordained bishops
in places near to each other, consecrations should by no
means be allowed at which three or four other bishops are
not present. For we may take example even from carnal
matters, to direct us in a wise and careful disposition
of spiritual things. Thus it is, that in the world, mar-
ried persons are summoned to marriages, in order that
those who have gone before in the path of wedlock may
be united in the joy of the actual union. Why, then,
in this spiritual ordination, also, in which, by the sa-
cred ministry, man is allied with God, should not those
170 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
meet together who have been before ordained bishops,
and are thus able to take part in the joy, or pour forth
united prayers to Almighty God for their brother's
safety?"
It is observable that, while St. Gregory speaks of the
difficulties in the way of obtaining the assistance of the
Galilean bishops, he makes no allusion whatever to the
bishops of Britain at that time settled in Wales. The
fact seems to have been, that since the first establish-
ment of the Saxons in England, all intercourse with
the ancient British Church had ceased.
St. Augustine's Seventh Question relates to inter-
course with the bishops of Gaul and Britain. The con-
cluding sentence of St. Gregory's Answer must be noted,
as containing the origin of the power which, at a some-
what later period, St. Augustine will be found to claim
over the prelates of the ancient British Church.
" As to the bishops of Gaul," answers the Pope, " we
grant you no authority among them ; since, from the
time of my remote predecessors, the Bishop of Aries
has received the Pall, and there is no call whatever
upon us to deprive him of a right once entrusted to
him. Should it so happen, then, that your Fraternity
were to pass over to the province of Gaul, it would
be your part to confer with the Bishop of Aries, so that
any vices which may prevail among the other bishops
may be corrected; and that, should he have at all re-
laxed in vigour of discipline, his zeal may be rekindled
by the presence of your Fraternity. We have, accord-
ingly, written to him to urge, that during the stay of
your Holiness in Gaul, he should give all heed to your
suggestions, and interpose a check as to any point of
episcopal conduct which may contravene the laws of
our Creator. With regard to yourself, however, it is
XV.] QUESTIONS ON THE ENGLISH CHURCH. 171
not competent to you to pass sentence upon the bish-
ops of Gaul, situated as they are beyond the limits
of your jurisdiction. Still we enjoin you, by per-
suasion and kindness, and the display of exemplary
conduct, to reform the vicious where you can, according
to the pattern of sanctity : for it is written in the Law,
" When thou comest into the standing corn of thy
neighbour, then thou mayest pluck the ears with thine
hand; but thou shalt not move a sickle unto thy neigh-
bours standing corn." 2 The sickle of judgment you
may not move unto the harvest-field which you see
to be committed to another. But the Lord's corn you
may and must separate from the chaff of vices which
deteriorate it, and by admonitions and persuasions, and
a process, as it were, of gentle mastication, convert
it into the Lord's Body. But, with respect to acts
of authority, you will communicate with the aforesaid
Bishop of Aries, that nothing may be neglected which is
required by the institution of the fathers.
" All the bishops of Britain, however, we commit to
your Fraternity, to instruct the unlearned, strengthen
the weak by exhortation, and correct the perverse by
authority."
Here some MSS. introduce a Question and Answer
upon the relics of St. Sixtus, the history of which is
said to have been as follows. St. Augustine had re-
ported to the Pope that the English Christians were in
the practice of venerating certain spurious relics of St.
Sixtus, which were said to have been discovered in Kent.
He accordingly requests that the genuine relics of the
Martyr might be sent over, and the English thus en-
abled to satisfy their devotion upon a legitimate object.
2 Deut. xxiii. 25.
172 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
St. Gregory answers ; " We have complied with your
request, in order that the people, who, on the spot
of the martyrdom of St. Sixtus, are said to venerate
certain relics which your Fraternity considers to be
neither genuine nor, indeed, those of a Saint at all,
may cease from paying devotion to a doubtful ob-
ject, and receive, in exchange, the benefit of possess-
ing the indubitable remains of the Saint. It seems,
however, to me, that if the body, which the people
believe to be that of some martyr, has been illus-
trated by no miracles, and if there are none among the
older inhabitants of the country who can testify to
having heard from their ancestors the acts of his mar-
tyrdom, the relics which have been sent at your re-
quest, should be deposited in a separate place, that the
spot in which the forementioned body lies, may by all
means be blocked up, and the people not allowed to
forsake the certain and venerate the doubtful."
Other questions and answers follow, of no profit to
the general reader, upon the subject of certain cere-
monial disqualifications.
XVI.] ST. GREGORY TO ETHELBERT AND BERTHA. 173
CHAPTER XVI.
LETTERS OF ST. GREGORY TO ETHELBERT AND BERTHA.
BY the hands of St. Mellitus and his companions, St.
Gregory sent letters to the king and queen of England.
To Ethelbert he writes as follows :
" To his most illustrious and most excellent son Ethel-
bert, king of England, Gregory, bishop, sends greeting.
" The purpose with which Almighty God, in His good-
ness, raises certain to the government of His people is,
that through their means He may impart the gifts of
His mercy to those over whom He sets them. And such
we gather to be His will in respect of the English nation,
over which your Excellence has been called to preside,
in order that, through the advantages with which you
have been favoured, the benefits of Divine grace may be
bestowed upon the nation under your government.
Guard then, we entreat you, illustrious son, and that
with all possible solicitude, the grace you have been
vouchsafed from above ; lose no time in extending the
faith of Christ among your subjects, multiply the zeal
of your uprightness in their conversion, put down the
worship of idols, lay low the structures of their temples;
by exhortations, by threats, by conciliation, by correc-
tion, and by the exhibition of your own good example,
build up your subjects in the utmost purity of life, that
so you may receive in heaven the reward of Him whose
name and whose saving knowledge you have extended
upon earth. For He shall render the name of your
174 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
Excellence still more excellent among posterity, inasmuch
as you have sought and maintained His honour in the
world.
" Thus it was that in ancient times the most godly
emperor Constantine recalled the Roman commonwealth
from the corrupt worship of idols, subjected it, with
himself, to our Lord Jesus Christ, the Almighty God,
and turned to Him with all his heart, and his people
with him ; and so it came to pass, that this same empe-
ror surpassed the fame of the princes before him, by the
greatness of his achievements. And in the same way
may your Excellence now hasten to implant in the
hearts of all the kings and people, your subjects, the
knowledge of the one God, Father, Son, and Holy
Ghost, that so your glory may transcend in merits and
renown that of all the ancient kings of your nation ;
and by how much you are instrumental in cleansing the
sin of others among your subjects, by so much may you
stand before the Judgment-seat securer of the pardon of
your own.
" Give a willing ear to the admonitions of our most
reverend brother Augustine, Bishop ; perform his in-
structions with all devotion, and store them with all
care in your memory. Well versed is he in the monastic
rule, filled with the knowledge of Holy Scripture, and
endued, by God's grace, with all good works. The more
readily you give heed to him when he speaks to you of
the things pertaining to Almighty God, the more speed-
ily will Almighty God listen to his prayers in your
regard. If (which may God forbid ! ) you should cast
his words behind you, how, think you, will God hear
his prayers for you, seeing that you refuse to hear him
when he speaks for God? With all your mind, then,
gird yourself, by His help, in the zeal of faith, and
XVI.] ST. GREGORY TO ETHELBERT AND BERTHA. 175
correspond with his efforts through the power which
God imparts to you from on high, that He may make
you a partaker of His kingdom, whose Faith you have
caused to be received, and guarded in your kingdom.
" We wish, moreover your Excellence to be aware that,
as we learn from the words of our Almighty Lord, in
Holy Scripture, the end of this present world is at hand,
and that kingdom of the Saints is about to come which
is never to end. And, forasmuch as this same end of the
world is drawing near, many signs are rife, or threaten-
ing, which before were not ; such as sudden reverses of
temperature, and terrific appearances in the sky, and
unseasonable tempests, and wars, famine, pestilences,
and earthquakes in parts. Not that all these things will
happen in one day ; but, in the next generation, all
will come to pass. Now, should any of these wonders
take place in your country, do not by any means let
your heart be troubled, for these notices of the end of
the world are sent in time, that so we may learn to be
solicitous in the matter of our souls, and may be found
hereafter to have been concerned about the hour of death,
and prepared in all good works for the coming of our
Judge. These things, most excellent son in the Faith,
I have expressed in few words, to the end that when the
Faith of Christ shall have grown and prevailed in your
kingdom, the influence of our exhortations may also
prevail with you more and more extensively, and we
may be able to speak all the more freely, through the
continually increasing joy of our hearts at the entire con-
version of your nation.
" I have forwarded you a few trifling tokens of esteem, 1
which, however, you will not account trifling when you
176 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
bear in mind that they come to you with the bless-
ing of St. Peter upon them. May God Almighty, then,
vouchsafe to guard in your heart, and bring to perfec-
tion, the grace which He has bestowed. May He prolong
your life here for the space of many a year, and after a
lengthened term on earth, receive you into the congrega-
tion of His heavenly country. My good lord, and dear
son in the Faith, may your Excellence be kept in safety
by the grace which is from above. Dated, this 22 d day
of June, in the 19th year of the reign of our lord, the
most religious Emperor Mauricius Tiberius, from the
consulship of the same our lord, the 18th, and of the
Indiction, the 4th. [A.D. 601]. 2
The nature of the presents which St. Gregory sent to
king Ethelbert may be gathered from other parts of his
correspondence ; especially from a letter to Recharedus, 3
king of the Visigoths. They were apparently relics.
To Queen Bertha the Pope wrote as follows :
GREGORY TO BERTHA, QUEEN OF THE ENGLISH.
"Whoso is desirous of obtaining the glory of a
heavenly kingdom, upon the termination of earthly
power, should strive with the greater earnestness to gain
souls to his Creator, to the end he may arrive at the ob-
ject of his desire by the steps of good works ; and this
is what we rejoice to think you have done. Our devout
sons, Laurence, presbyter, and Peter, monk, acquainted
us on their return with your Excellence's gracious dis-
position and demeanour towards our most reverend
brother and fellow-bishop Augustine, and with the
great comfort he had derived from your Excellence's
2 S. Greg. Ep. xi. G6. 3 Ib. ix. 122.
XVI.] ST. GREGORY TO ETHELBERT AND BERTHA. 177
affection ; and we have rendered our thanks to Almighty
God in that, of His mercy, He has deigned to reserve the
conversion of the English nation for your reward. For
even as by Helena, of precious memory, mother of the
most religious Emperor Constantine, the hearts of the
Romans were enkindled towards the Faith of Christ, we
trust that in like manner, through the zeal of your Ex-
cellence, His mercy has been at work in the English
nation. And, in truth, long time since, you have felt it
your duty to employ your discretion, like a true
Christian, in moving the heart of your consort and our
illustrious son in the Faith, to the end he might, for the
salvation of his kingdom and his own soul, embrace the
Faith which ye follow, that so from him, and through his
means, from the conversion of the whole nation, a meet
reward may accrue to you in the joys of Heaven. For
when once, as we have said, your Excellence was fortified
in the true Faith, and possessed of the competent learn-
ing, there was nothing in this task which should have
been tedious or difficult to you. And forasmuch
as, of God's will, the present is the convenient season,
strive that, with the help of Divine grace, ye may re-
cover with increase such loss as may have followed upon
neglect.
" Establish then, by assiduous exhortation, the heart
of your illustrious partner in affection towards the Faith
of Christ ; may your solicitude be the means of filling
him with increase in the love of God, and of enkindling his
soul with a new ardour for the thorough conversion of
the nation under his care, that so through the zeal of
your devotion he may offer a great sacrifice to Almighty
God, and the reports we have heard of you may still
increase and be confirmed in all possible ways ; since
your good is spoken of not only among the Romans,
N
178 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
who have offered powerful prayers for your life, but in
different parts of the world, and has reached even Con-
stantinople, and come to the ears of our gracious Empe-
ror. And in like manner as the consolations which
have come of your Christian Excellence have been matter
of joy to us, may the angels have cause of rejoicing in
the perfection of the work you have begun ! In aid,
then, of the aforesaid our most reverend brother and
fellow-bishop, and of the servants of God whom we have
commissioned thither, use all zeal and devotion towards
the conversion of the nation, that so in this world ye
may reign happily with our illustrious son and your
consort, and after a lengthened term of years may receive
the joys of the life to come, which know no end. And
we pray Almighty God to enkindle the heart of your
Excellence by the fire of His grace both to perform our
words, and to grant you an everlasting recompense as the
fruit of good works pleasing to Himself." 4
It will have been seen that St. Gregory in his letter to King
Ethelbert, advises the destruction of idolatrous temples. 5
On maturer reflection, the holy father saw fit to retract,
or modify, this injunction. The execution of it would
of course have been exceedingly shocking to the preju-
dices of the people, and only justifiable, therefore, in the
cause of religion. But, however natural to the earliest
impulses of holy enthusiasm the utter obliteration of
every vestige of Satan's work, the Church in her wisdom
has ever accepted the plea of " invincible ignorance" in
extenuation of the sin of idol-worship; and far from
accounting the places in which it has prevailed as irre-
coverably desecrated by the unconscious pollution, she
has rather rejoiced in asserting her power in the Spirit
4 Ep. xi. 29. 5 vid. supra, p. 173.
XVI.] ST. GREGORY TO ETHELBERT AND BERTHA. 179
who dwells within her, to purify them from all stain and
vindicate them to their rightful Owner, whom heathens
"ignorantly worship." Not accounting that even the
foul taint of original sin (so wilful transgression have not
supervened) interposes a bar to the sanctifying power of
the Holy Ghost, she has not shunned to introduce
CHRIST into what had been heretofore the haunts of
idolaters, as accounting her own exorcism sufficient to
cleanse and prepare them for His reception.
The invasion of popular prejudices, in the instance of
festivals and holy-days, would of course have been still
more gratuitous j for, as superstition ever contains within
itself the seeds of true religion, it should never be other-
wise than the object of tenderness and even reverence :
and the Church, who is all to all, makes it a first principle
to avail herself of all harmless, much more of all religious,
however perverted, prepossessions such as are, in an es-
pecial manner, those which relate to seasons and locali-
ties. For there is a sense in which even heathenism is
a Divine system, notwithstanding the part which the
devil bears in it ; just as the bodies with which we are
born into the world are none the less God's work, be-
cause, through man's first transgression, our great Enemy
has obtained a hold upon them. The line of true
Christian wisdom and moderation is marked out by St.
Gregory in the following letter, which represents his more
deliberate judgment upon this question of religious
policy.
TO HIS DEAREST SON MELLITUS, ABBOT, 6 GREGORY, SER-
VANT OF THE SERVANTS OP GOD.
"After the departure of our congregation, who are
6 St. Mellitus, like St. Augustine before, appears to have been con-
stituted by the Pope abbot of the missionary congregation.
180 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
now with you, great suspense was occasioned us by the
absence of any information as to the prosperity of your
journey. Whenever Almighty God shall bring you safe
to our most reverend brother Augustine, Bishop, acquaint
him with the result of my long deliberation on the
subject of England, which is this ; that the idol-temples
in that country ought not to be destroyed ; but that
after the demolition of the actual idols contained in
them, some water should be blessed, and sprinkled in
the temples, and that then altars should be raised in
them, and relics deposited. For, if the temples in
question have been well constructed, they ought to be
transferred from the worship of idols into the service of
the true God in order that the nation, observing this
tenderness in the treatment of its religious buildings,
may be the rather led to put error from its heart,
and when it comes to know and worship the true God,
may the more readily resort to the temples with which
it is familiar. Moreover, since it is their practice to
slay numerous oxen in the sacrifices of their devils, for
this solemnity some corresponding one should be substi-
tuted ; on the day of the dedication of the church, there-
fore, or of the martyrs whose relics are deposited in it,
they may construct tents out of the branches of trees in
the neighbourhood of these same churches, into which
the old temples have been converted, and celebrate their
festival with religious joy, no longer sacrificing their
animals to the devil, but killing them for their own use
to the glory of God, and giving thanks of their abun-
dance to the Giver of all things, and thus being the
rather disposed to inward satisfactions by how much their
innocent festivities are more indulgently promoted.
For it is an undoubted fact, that to mould hard minds
into shape all at once, is impossible. He who strives to
XVI.] ST. GREGORY TO ETHELBERT AND BERTHA. 181
reach the highest place ascends thither by slow steps,
not by vaulting. Thus did our Lord make Himself
known to the people of Israel in Egypt, while the
honour of the sacrifices which were formerly offered to
the devil He reserved to Himself, when He appointed
the slaying of animals as a part of religious worship ;
that in this way, as their hearts were changed, they
might partly give up and partly retain the use of
sacrifices ; offering indeed the same animals as before,
but with a different object, and so not as the same
sacrifices. Such are the instructions which I consider it
necessary your Affection should convey to our afore-
mentioned brother, that he, as on the spot, may consider
how the whole matter may best be ordered.
"Dated the 17th day of June 7 in the 19th year of
our lord Mauri cius Tiberius." 8
7 There must be some mistake here, as a letter evidently written
after the rest, bears an earlier date by five days. Mabillon considers
that the previous letters should be referred to June 15, this to June
28. (Ann. Bened. x. 2.) The incongruity is noticed in the edition
of the works of St. Bede, published by the " English Historical So-
ciety," to which the present writer is much indebted.
8 Ep. xi. 26.
182 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
CHAPTER XVII.
THE PALL.
A FEW words must be said in this place concerning
the Pall, or ensign of metropolitical dignity, transmitted
by St. Gregory the Great to the first English Archbishop.
The reader who is desirous of knowing all which may be
known on the subject, will find a learned dissertation in
Mr. Collier's Ecclesiastical History of England, from
which, and from a few notices in St. Gregory's Letters,
the following particulars are derived.
The Pall, in its most ancient form, was a magnificent
robe worn by the metropolitans over the rest of the epi-
scopal dress, to distinguish them from their suffragans.
That, in St. Gregory's time, the Pall was a vestment of
great splendour and dignity, appears from the warning
against pride and worldliness, with which he was in the
practice of accompanying the donation. The Pall,
therefore, according to its first idea, was intended to re-
mind its wearer of the dignity of his office, and to put
him upon a life of suitable circumspection. In later
times, however, the form of the Pall was changed ; and,
instead of a stately robe, or pallium, flowing from the
shoulders down to the feet, it consisted merely of a strip
of woollen cloth worn across the shoulders, to which
were appended two other strips of the same material,
one of them falling over the breast, and the other hang-
ing down the back, each marked with a red cross, and
the part across the shoulders with several smaller crosses,
XVII.] THE PALL. 183
and the whole being tacked on to the rest of the dress
by three golden pins. And, as the shape of the modern
differed from that of the more ancient Pall, so did its
signification also ; for, while the magnificent vestment
of St. Gregory's time was designed to betoken the dignity
of the wearer, the simple appendage of more modern date
was intended as a foil to the splendour of the episcopal
habit, and a safeguard against the love of earthly pomp,
which such accompaniments of high ecclesiastical state
are apt to awaken in ill-regulated minds. Meanwhile,
both the ancient and modern Pall had a farther and a
common purpose, that of signifying the intimate con-
nexion between metropolitans and the Holy See. For
the Pall, before it was sent from Rome, was laid on the
Tomb of the Apostles, and solemnly blessed ; so that it
became to its wearer a continual pledge and memento of
St. Peter's benediction.
The Pall was in use, as is evident from St. Gregory
the Great's Letter to the Primate of Gaul, from times
considerably earlier than the seventh century j not, how-
ever, at first as an emblem of authority and token of
dependence upon the Roman See, but rather, perhaps, as
a mark of favour and personal consideration from the
donors. Virgilius, archbishop of Aries, did not receive
it till four years after he became archbishop, as appears
from the date of St. Gregory's letter accompanying it,
compared with that of his own elevation to the See. St.
Gregory was the first Pope who conferred the Pall upon
other archbishops of France besides the Archbishop of
Aries. As in the case of other ecclesiastical usages and
principles, what began as mere custom was ultimately
formed into law. Thus, at the synod called by St. Boni-
face, the Apostle of Germany, A.D. 745, it was determined
that all Christendom should thenceforth account Rome
184 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
as the centre of Catholic communion, and submit to the
decisions of the Holy See. 1 And in token of such ac-
knowledgment and dependence, all metropolitans were to
apply to Rome for the Pall. The Archbishops of Rouen,
Rheims, and Sens, stood out for the privileges of their
national Church, and St. Boniface was for a time induced
to admit their objections ; but at length, upon a remon-
strance from Pope Zachary, he renewed his suit in the
name of the Holy See, and the refractory archbishops
were prevailed upon to accept the unwelcome gift, as it
was now explained to them. In the year 872, during
the Pontificate of Adrian II., it was decreed that the
metropolitans should obtain confirmation from their
respective patriarchs, either by imposition of hands, or
by the grant of the Pall ; but this law, according to
Collier, was in no respect more favourable to the power
of the Pope in the West than to that of the Eastern
patriarchs. Its promulgation, however, was actually
followed by a rapid advance of the Roman influence in
Europe, and paved the way for the vast spiritual acqui-
sitions of St. Gregory VII.
St. Gregory named London as the seat of the English
1 S. Bonifacii Ep. ad. Cuthbertura. This Cuthbert was Arch-
bishop of Canterbury. The decree mentioned in the text, is ex-
pressed in the following words. It was forwarded to the Arch-
bishop with the other determinations of the council.
" Decrevimus haec in nostro Synodali conventu, et confessi sumus
Fidem Catholicam, et unitatem, et subjectionem Romanae Ecclesiae,
fine tenus vitae nostrae, velle servare, sancto Petro et vicario ejus velle
subjici ; Synodum per omnes annos congregare : metropolitans pallia
ab ilia sede quaerere, et per omnia prascepta Sti. Petri canonice sequi
desiderare, ut inter oves sibi commendatas numerentur. Et isti con-
fessioni universe consensimus, et subscripsimus, et ad corpus Sti.
Petri, principis Apostolorum, direximus, quod gratulando clerus Ro-
manus et pontifex suscepit."
XVII.] THE PALL. 185
Primacy ; that city having been similarly dignified
in British times. The new Archbishop was instructed
to erect twelve sees in his province, and to name a
bishop of York, who, as the Church should take root in
the northern parts of England, was to be elevated to the
rank of an archbishop, and to receive the Pall from
Rome. The number of episcopal sees in the two pro-
vinces was ultimately to be equalized. During St. Au-
gustine's life, the Archbishop of York was to pay him
canonical obedience ; afterwards, he was to be indepen-
dent of the See of London, but to be spiritually subject
to the Archbishop of Canterbury.
During British ascendancy, there was a reason why
London, as the chief emporium of England, should
be also the great Christian metropolis. But since the
successful invasion of the Saxons, Canterbury had be-
come the seat of government, and the residence of the
chief among the princes of the Heptarchy, whereas Lon-
don was now but the capital of a subordinate province.
When these circumstances were duly made known at
Rome, St. Gregory, as appears, sanctioned the transfer of
the Primacy from London to Canterbury. A modern
enemy of the Holy See will have it that St. Augustine
made this change upon his own authority ; but as this is
antecedently improbable, considering his spiritual re-
lationship to St. Gregory and to Rome, so likewise is it
contradicted by a document of St. Gregory's successor,
who speaks of that Pontiff as the author of the arrange-
ment.
Thus, while the Catholic Church bore fruit upwards,
it also struck root downwards, in English soil. The
heathen saw and were afraid, the depths also were
troubled. The Lord had once more His people here in
England, and the idols bowed down as the cross was
186 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
reared. All was calm, orderly, and majestic, like the
raising of the Temple without axe or hammer. The
invasions of the world, which devastate, are vehement
and tumultuous ; those of the Church, which fertilize, are
peaceful and sure ; even as the Deluge, which destroyed
the earth, came down in torrents, while the Spirit who
renewed it was silent in His approach, though " mighty
in operation." Thus gently, thus " without observation,"
because in the power of that Spirit, did the Church gain
possession of English ground, and vindicate to herself,
almost without men's knowledge, the length and breadth
of the land. Here was no violence towards existing
prejudices, no contemptuous or intolerant dealing even
with popular superstitions ; no bigotry, no fanaticism,
no false step. Holy enthusiasm there was in abundance ;
but enthusiasm is too deep to be fitful ; it is energetic,
not busy. Let us now contract the sphere of our con-
templations, and fix them upon the great centre of the
picture, in which its whole spirit is as it were embodied
and typified a Missionary Archbishop, with the Ca-
tholic Faith as his message, and Miracles as his cre-
dentials.
XVIII.] THE ARCHIEPISCOPAL PROGRESS. 187
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE ARCHIEPISCOPAL PROGRESS.
HAD St. Augustine wanted an excuse for resting from
his labours, surely he might at this moment have found
one without difficulty. The care of the English Church,
with which he was now entrusted, was occupation
enough, one would have thought, to employ the most
active, and responsibility enough to satisfy the most scru-
pulous. It seemed indeed the natural thing for him to
stay quietly at Canterbury, regulate the affairs of his
monastery, nominate his suffragans, and delegate his
missionary functions to younger and less dignified
hands. But so it is, that Saints continually act at
variance with our expectations. When we determine in
our own minds that they have a call to be busy, they
disappoint us by pleasing to be quiet ; when we consider
it suitable to their dignity that they should rather super-
intend than work, they force us to the conclusion either
that they are regardless of dignity, or that we do not
understand what true dignity is.
St. Augustine, at all events, does not appear to have
prized the otium cum dignitate ; nay, he chose, as we
have already observed, a way of life which seems at first
sight inconsistent with the post of an archbishop.
The truth must be confessed, that Saints differ from
common men in not being apt to catch at excuses. It
does not satisfy them to know that a certain thing is
not wrong ; they are deterred from taking up with it,
188 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
by the fact of its being but second-best. And thus it is,
that they continually surprise us by their proceedings,
as seeming to delight in striking out for themselves new
and eccentric paths. And from not understanding
them, we go on to criticize them, not always or at once
remembering, that " the natural man discerneth not the
things of the Spirit," and that, in the case of certain
given persons, it is on the whole far more likely that
such as we should be in the dark, than such as they
in the wrong.
Whether, then, there be anything out of the common
way in an archbishop turning missionary and traversing
the country on foot (as perhaps there is not), at least
there is something altogether wonderful and above man
in that zeal for Christ which would not suffer this godly
prelate to find rest for the sole of his foot in an as yet
unconverted land. Nothing would content him but
starting off, Metropolitan of all England as he was,
without equipage or horse, with no body-guard but the
poor, and no arms but the arms of Saints, prayer and
watching, to search on the highways and among the hedges
for guests to fill the vacant seats at the Lord's marriage-
board. Alone, or perhaps with a few attendant monks,
and certainly on foot, the holy Archbishop proceeded on
his way, and took, as we may conceive, the great Roman
road from London to the north of England. His very
stature, as we have already observed, had something
superhuman about it, and at once distinguished him
from the crowds who speedily gathered round his path.
He had not gone far before his journey began to assume
the appearance of a triumphant Progress ; if we may ap-
ply that word to the movement of a train in which were no
insignia of worldly grandeur, and where the regulations
of ceremonial were outstripped by the impulses of zeal
XVIII.] THE ARCHIEPISCOPAL PROGRESS. 189
and affection. Never was crowned monarch or laurelled
warrior more enthusiastically greeted, more multitudi-
nously followed, than was that humble and mortified
archbishop. Like a true apostle as he was, he car-
ried with him neither purse, nor scrip, nor provision for
his journey; 1 yet lacked he not all necessaries, for his
trust was in Him who feedeth the young ravens that call
upon Him, and in whose sight His own elect are of
more price than many sparrows.
On coming near the city of Eboracum, the Saint was
accosted by a man who sat by the wayside begging, and
who laboured under the two-fold scourge of bjindness
and palsy. The Saint remembered that great Apostle
to whom he was chiefly bound, who said, " Silver
and gold have I none, but such as I have give I
thee ; in the Name of JESUS CHRIST of Nazareth rise up
and walk." Why should not that Name work miracles
at any time *? Why not among ourselves now-a-days ?
Truly, because we lack the conditions of its power
Catholic faith and Catholic sanctity. But here was no
bar to its sovereign efficacy ; and accordingly, if we may
trust those who have transmitted what they received,
the prayer of the Saint was answered, and his Divine
commission accredited in the eyes of the unbelievers.
The paralytic leapt like a hart, and the eyes of the
blind were opened. Now, whether this and other
miracles which we shall relate, after those who have
gone into their evidence, actually happened as they are
recorded, or form rather the illustrations than the in-
stances of the supernatural power unquestionably inhe-
rent in all the true Saints of God, on this point we are
warranted in the present, if in any case, in being com-
1 Mabillon, Acta Sanct. Bened. in vita S. Augustini.
190 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
paratively little solicitous ; for that St. Augustine of
Canterbury worked miracles for the conversion of Eng-
land is acknowledged even by many Protestants; and
what precisely those miracles were, is surely a secondary
consideration. Meanwhile, it will not be necessary to
interrupt the thread of the narrative farther than by
saying that if the reader so far forgets that he is occupied
upon a portion of ecclesiastical history as to stumble at
the marvellous portions of the present biographical
sketch, it is hoped he will at least suspend his judg-
ment till a few pages further on, or accept the state-
ments subject to any qualifications which may secure
them from the chance of irreverent usage, and him from
the risk of that especial blasphemy which consists in
slighting the manifestations of God's Holy Spirit ; a sin,
one should have thought, denounced by our Blessed Lord
in language sufficiently awful to make the possibility of
it an unspeakably more formidable alternative than any
amount of credulity. Not indeed as if the wanton cir-
culation, and over easy acceptance, of miraculous his-
tories, were an insignificant mischief, seeing that we must
not give occasion to the enemies of the Lord to blas-
pheme. But, taking our Divine Redeemer's singular
commendation of the temper which men call credulous,
in connexion with His terrific denunciation of the sin
which in its measure is involved in every deliberate
trifling with the genuine works of the Spirit, it seems
strange indeed that professing Christians should count it a
safer thing to scoff at miracles as such, than to enter upon
the Lives of the Saints as upon a new world of wonders
whose sights speedily conform the habits of vision to their
own standard, till at length the eye sees objects before it
which are, perhaps, but the reflections of images within.
Upon the great principle recommended by Butler, in
XVIII.] THE ARCHIEPISCOPAL PROGRESS. 191
his Analogy, of taking the safer side in matters of
religion which are felt to be doubtful, surely every truly
wise man will prefer the alternative of believing some
miracles which may be false, to that of encouraging him-
self in a critical, not to say sceptical, temper. On the
side of the historian of s the Church, or the biographer of
Saints, there lies doubtless a great duty of caution ; yet
the rash and uninstructed zeal of historians and biogra-
phers, though it suggests the temptation, does not there-
fore furnish the excuse, to languor of belief, still less
to irreverence of objection, in readers.
To return from our digression : It was most probably
during this northern progress of the great archbishop
that the Church received that vast accession of converts at
one time, which has sometimes, to all appearance, been
confused with the baptism of the 10,000 at Canterbury.
There seems undoubtedly to have been a baptism of
multitudes at once in the river Swale; but we suppose
it not to have taken place at the Christmas of 597,
which was before St. Augustine had proceeded on his
missionary travels, but about the summer of 602, the
period with which we are now more immediately
engaged. It is mentioned by annalists, as a miracu-
lous circumstance, that so prodigious a multitude
should have received baptism by immersion in a deep
stream, without a single instance of loss of life or bodily
injury. In truth, what we call the " providential" runs
up into almost inextricable implication with the " mi-
raculous."
The following incident, which is related by Mabillon,
belongs to the class of supernatural occurrences which
are not merely succours to faith, like the last mentioned,
but attestations to the fact of Divine power in the sight
of the unbelieving world. Such verifications of high
192 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
ministerial claims, (even taking that low a priori
ground which finds its place in treatises on Christian
Evidence,) as they are peculiarly needful, so of God's
mercy it is likely that they will be largely vouchsafed,
as aids to the work of the Missionary.
As St. Augustine was leaving York, he was met by a
leper labouring under a peculiarly distressing form of that
loathsome disease. His articulation was affected by the
malady, and he had no way of making his sufferings and
necessities known but by indistinct sounds, as it had
been the cry of some animal. Encouraged by the sweet
smile and outstretched hand of the messenger of mercy,
he managed to crawl up to him, and came under the power
of the hand which was uplifted to bless him. Then, his
eye beaming with light expressive of the soul's illumina-
tion, and his voice distilling words of honey, "In the
Name of our Lord and Saviour," said the Saint, "be
thou clean from all defilement/' " Not so quickly,"
proceeds the annalist, "was Naaman, the Syrian, cured of
his plague, for he was bid to wash seven times in the
Jordan. For Augustine spake" (not like one of the old
prophets but) " in the strength of His Word who says
in the Gospel, ' Be thou clean/ and whose word runneth
swiftly. thrice-blessed poverty in Christ ! poverty,
that art the true riches ! richer than all the wealth of
the earth ! treasure, exhaustless in abundance !
where, not the gold which covetous mortals affect, but
richer than gold incomparably, is dealt out to overflow-
ing the salvation of body and soul ' without money and
without price/ "
Such is the strain in which monks describe the acts
of the Saints. In proportion as their eye is dulled
to the claims of the outer, it is sharpened to behold the
wonders of the inner world. Such Christians live and
XVIII.] THE ARCHIEPISCOPAL PROGRESS. 193
range as in an element of their own. Their histories
are accordingly almost like meditations ; no wonder if
to men, whose conversation is in this lower world, the
records of their experience should be wearisome as the
tales of dreamers, their chronicles of events read like
fiction, their comments sound like the ravings of fana-
ticism.
194 ST. AUGUSTINE.
CHAPTER XIX.
<
ST. AUGUSTINE. HIS MIRACLES AND THEIR EVIDENCE.
FEW readers will be disposed to deny that the miracles
of the Apostle of England differ, as to the first impres-
sion with which they strike us, from the miracles of
some other Saints with whom we happen to be less fa-
miliar. Their evidence is not necessarily more trust-
worthy, but it is certainly more available : there re-
quires a greater hardihood in scepticism to resist it ;
a greater disregard of public opinion to write or speak
against it. Nothing, surely, can be less philosophical,
as well as less religious, than objections to any recorded
miracle of any age, grounded simply upon the frivolous-
ness (as men speak) of its character, or the inadequacy
of its object. What is the meaning of all such talk ?
Are we wiser than God, or are His ways as our ways ?
Let cavillers at miracles say so in good earnest, and we
shall then know how to deal with them. But as yet,
at least, it is happily less respectable to broach infidelity,
than to write down ike principle of all belief. Yet, if men
who deal with the lives of the Saints upon a priori
grounds do not, happily for themselves, discern the dan-
gerous contiguity of their reasonings to those of the
infidel, and even the atheist, there are not wanting
shrewder intellects than their own which will help them
to the discovery. If they fancy themselves able to
distinguish to their own satisfaction between, on the
XIX.] HIS MIRACLES AND THEIR EVIDENCE. 195
one hand, such antecedent objections (for it is of ante-
cedent objections only that we are here speaking) to the
miracles of the Saints, and, on the other, the flippancies
of which the Old Testament has, ere now, been made
the subject, there are others cleverer than themselves,
though less reputable, who will gladly employ the re-
spectability of their names to obtain a hearing for
arguments at once deeper and more consistent than
their own.
But, at all events, the history of St. Augustine of
Canterbury has this advantage over some others, that
there is a dignity on the very face of it which (to
use a forcible Latin word) " profligates" calumny,
not merely wards it off, but routs, and explodes,
and shames it. As to the mighty works which are
related of our apostle, they are, on the whole, surely
of that simple and straightforward character which
rather strikingly contradistinguishes the Evangelical and
Apostolical miracles from some of the Prophetical ; they
are of a kind fitted to overrule unbelief, and not merely
to sustain faith. And this is what men naturally ex-
pect in the case of Divine manifestations accompanying
and illustrating a mission to the heathen.
But, again, it is a considerable security for the reve-
rent acceptance of the history of St. Augustine, that he
was thus, in fact, a Missionary. This circumstance at
once supplies what intellectual men presumptuously de-
mand, an ostensible cause for the intervention of direct
and obvious supernatural agency. Objectors are cer-
tainly more tolerant of miraculous records, in the case
of missionaries, than of any other Saints ; not seeing,
apparently, that if they allow miracles to missionaries,
they give up the question of principle, and make their
stand upon that of degree ; they do not deny that
196 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
Almighty Grod has signally interposed in the later as
well as in the earlier Church, but they claim to be
judges of the circumstances under which it is reasonable
that He should interpose. This is a great step or rather
it narrows the ground between these objectors and the
Catholics almost to contact ; not indeed in fact, but
(which is a widely different thing) in logic. The in-
tellectual barriers are removed, the ethical, alas ! are
sometimes even strengthened, rather than the contrary,
by the logical approximation.
Such cases may not unfairly be compared with that
of St. Thomas. And our Blessed Lord seems to deal
with them in a like condescending way, as with that holy
Apostle, when he stipulated for stronger evidence than
his Lord had counted sufficient. Such evidence was
indeed forthcoming at his demand ; but his satisfaction
was without a blessing. Let us also remember, as in-
structed by this example, that it is the temper of faith
which is necessarily and always blessed by CHRIST our
Redeemer, but that the mere act of assent is not so
necessarily or always blessed.
Again the inquiry arises, if Christianity did not
make its way into Saxon England by miracles, how
came its progress to be so rapid and so wide ? Many
outward circumstances did undoubtedly, through the
mercy of Divine Providence, concur with supernatural
agency to favour the result ; but this, too, was the case
in the original propagation of Christianity. If the pa-
cification of the Roman world in the time of Augustus,
be none the more a " cause" (in the infidel sense) of the
triumph of Christianity at its first introduction, because
unbelievers have so magnified it, or if, rather, but a
secondary and tributary cause, where by them it is dig-
nified to the rank of a primary one, then is it no dero-
XIX.] HIS MIRACLES AND THEIR EVIDENCE. 197
gation from the supernatural power which wrought to
the conversion of England, that the progress of the blessed
Gospel here was facilitated by the political circumstances
of the time when it was brought over. Instead of
considering, with the infidel, that the miracles are
not certain because the preparation was apparent, the
believer will rather look upon the preparation as but an
additional evidence of that providential design which
was exhibited in the miracles. Or if, again, the worn-
out superstitions of the ancient mythology offered so
feeble a resistance to the power of the Truth in the
world at large, as to give that Truth, so satisfactory to
the cravings of man's moral nature, so harmonious in its
proportions, so beautiful in its results, an easy victory
among the nations of antiquity, while yet it is esteemed
none the less certain that the Arm of the Lord was vi-
sibly with it, neither, surely, can the rapid progress
of Christianity in this country be set down rather to
the weakness of the power which was arrayed against
it, than to the evident display of Divine tokens in its
behalf. For, perhaps, there was never a religious sys-
tem more deeply tinctured with the genius of a people
than was that of our Saxon forefathers. And if their
warlike temper and habits gave them many advantages
towards the reception of Christianity over those polished
and worldly-wise nations among which St. Paul preached,
these advantages were surely counterbalanced by the
chivalrous pertinacity with which the warrior children
of warrior parents, educated for heroes, and, as we
may say, dieted on blood, would be apt to cleave to the
stern and cruel rites of Woden and Tuisco.
Again, a belief in the miraculous power of St. Au-
gustine is necessary to the history. It has never been
questioned that two separate Conferences were held with
198 ST. AUGUSTINE. [OH.
the British bishops, and that the issue of the former
was determined by a miraculous display in favour of the
Saint. No other hypothesis, it is believed, but that of
a miracle has ever been devised to explain why the first
meeting was so abruptly brought to a close. And this
is the more remarkable, considering the feuds between
the Britons and the Saxons, and the angry discussions,
of which, from first to last, those celebrated Conferences
have been the subject.
This acquiescence, even on the part of avowed ad-
versaries of the Catholic Faith, in the miraculous claims
of St. Augustine, is due, perhaps, in no small degree to
the respect in which St. Bede, that especially English
historian of the Church, has ever been held among
Protestants as well as others. For the testimony of
that naif and thoroughly uncontroversial writer (how,
indeed, should they be controversial who knew but of
the One Faith V) is so explicit to the abundance of the
manifestations vouchsafed in our Saint, as to find its
response in simple and ingenuous minds, and this in-
dependently of the weight which so early an authority
must carry with it in the estimation of critics. But the
fact of these miracles is attested by a writer yet earlier
than St. Bede ; himself also a Saint, contemporary with
St. Augustine, and whose means of ascertaining the
circumstances to which he testifies, were of the readiest
and completest. Let us now hear how St. Gregory
addresses St. Augustine on the very subject of the
miracles which had been wrought by him during the
earlier part of his English mission. Let us observe,
especially, the natural way in which this great Saint
notices the glorious works of his son in the Faith, his
brother in the Kingdom of Heaven. It would cer-
tainly appear, from his letter, as if the report of St.
XIX.] HIS MIRACLES AND THEIR EVIDENCE. 199
Augustine's miracles had been neither beyond his ex-
pectation, nor in contradiction to his experience.
GREGORY TO AUGUSTINE, BISHOP OF THE ENGLISH.
u Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to
men of good will ! For the corn of wheat which fell
into the ground is dead, [and hath brought forth much
fruit, 1 ] that so He should not reign alone in heaven,
by whose death we live, by whose weakness we are
strengthened, by whose Passion we are snatched from
suffering, through whose love we were led to seek in
Britain the brethren whom we knew not, of whose Gift
we have found those whom we sought in ignorance.
But who is sufficient to declare what joy sprang up in
the hearts of all the faithful in this place since the
English nation, through the operation of the grace
of Almighty God, and the labours of your Fraternity,
hath been rid of the darkness of error, and overspread
with the light of our holy Faith ? since, with a perfect
mind, this people now tread their idols under foot,
whereunto, in the madness of superstition, they have
heretofore been subject ; since they now worship God
out of a pure heart ; since, recovered from the helpless-
ness of their evil deeds, they are now bound by the strict
rules of holy teaching ; since now, they are with all their
mind subject to Divine precepts, and aided by the un-
derstanding of them j since now they are humbled even
to the dust in prayer, and lie prostrate in spirit on the
ground. Whose work is this but His who saith, ( My
Father worketh hitherto, and I work 1 ' 2 Who, that
He might shew Himself willing to convert the world,
1 Vid. John xii. 24. 2 John v. 17.
200 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
not by man's power, but Himself by His own strength,
chose men of no letters for the preachers whom He
would send into the world. And this, too, He hath
also done in this instance also, in that, among the
English people, He hath deigned to perform deeds of
strength through the infirmity of the weak.
" Howbeit, dearest brother, there is in that heavenly
(nft what, in the midst of all our great joy, may well
cause us to fear, and that with an exceeding great fear. I
well know that by the hands of your Affection, Almighty
God hath wrought great miracles in the nation of
which He would make choice- Need is there, then, that
concerning this same heavenly Gift, you should at once
rejoice while you fear, and fear while you rejoice. Re-
joice assuredly you may, in that the souls of the Eng-
lish, through exterior miracles, are drawn towards in-
terior grace ; yet must you also fear, lest, among the
signs which are wrought by you, your feeble mind be
lilted up into presumption of itself, and in proportion
as it is exalted in honour from without, fall through
vain-glory from within. We ought to bear in mind
that the disciples, when they returned with joy from
preaching, and said unto the Lord, ' Lord, even the
devils are subject unto us through Thy Name,' were
straightway answered, ' In this rejoice not, that the
spirits are subject unto you, but rather rejoice, be-
cause your names are written in Heaven.' 3 For
they, in rejoicing over miracles, had set their heart
on a joy, private and temporal. But from the private
joy they are recalled to the public, from the temporal to
the eternal, when it is said to them, l In this rejoice,
that your names are written in Heaven.' It is not all
3 Luke, x. 20.
XIX.] HIS MIRACLES AND THEIR EVIDENCE. 201
the elect who work miracles ; howbeit, all their names
are kept written in Heaven, For, to the disciples of
the Truth, there should be no joy but on account of
that good which they have in common with all, and
wherein there is no end of their joy.
" It remains then, dearest brother, that, in the midst
of those things which you do externally by the power
of God, you should never cease from judging yourself
discreetly within ; and should discreetly understand
both concerning yourself, who you are, and likewise
how high a grace is with this same nation, towards whose
conversion you have been vouchsafed even the power of
miracles. And if you remember yourself to have ever
transgressed, whether in word or in deed, in the sight
of your Creator, call this continually to mind, to the
end the remembrance of your guilt may repress the
mounting pride of your heart. And whatever power to
do signs you shall receive, or have received, account not
this as a gift to yourself, but rather to those for whose
salvation such gifts have been vouchsafed you.
" And while on this subject, it is impossible not to
remember what happened in the case of one of God's
servants, and one very precious in His sight. Moses,
truly, whilst leading the people of God out of Egypt,
wrought, as your Fraternity well knows, many wondrous
signs in that country. And in his fast of forty days
on Mount Sinai, he received the Tables of the Law in
the midst of lightnings and thunders, and, while all the
people feared greatly, was joined he alone with Al-
mighty God in intimate and familiar converse. Then
opened he a path through the Red Sea, and had the
pillar of a cloud as a guide in his way ; when the
people hungered, he brought them down manna from
HeaveD, and by a miracle satisfied their desire, even to
202 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
excess, with abundance of flesh in the wilderness. And
then, when, in the time of drought, they came near a
rock, his faith failed him, and he doubted whether he
could bring water out of it ; but at the word of the
Lord, he struck it, and the water burst forth in torrents.
Apd, after this, how many miracles he wrought for
thirty and eight years in the desert, w T ho shall be able
to account or to find out ? As often as any doubtful
matter pressed on his mind, he entered into the taber-
nacle 4 and inquired of the Lord in secret, and was
straightway instructed by the Lord concerning the mat-
ter. And when the Lord was angry with the people,
he appeased Him by the intervention of his prayers ;
and those who rose up in pride and made divisions
among the people, he caused to be swallowed up in
the cavity of the yawning earth. The enemy he har-
assed by victories, and displayed signs among the
people. But when at length he reached the Land of
Promise, he was called up into the Mount and was
reminded of the sin he had committed thirty and eight
years before, when he doubted of his power to bring
forth the water. And he learned that for this he could
not enter the Land of Promise. By this instance. we
learn how fearful a thing is the judgment of God, who
wrought such mighty works by this His servant, yet
kept his sin so long in remembrance.
" Therefore, dearest brother, if we must acknowledge
that he, who was thus especially chosen by Almighty
God, did still, after so many signs, die for his sin, what
ought to be our fear, who know not as yet whether we
be of the elect at all ?
" Touching miracles which have been done by the
4 Exod. xxxiii. 9.
XIX.] HIS MIRACLES AND THEIR EVIDENCE. 203
reprobate, what shall I say to your Fraternity who know
so well the words which His Truth spake in the Gospel ?
' Many will say to Me in that day, Lord, have we not
prophesied in Thy Name ? and in Thy Name have cast
out devils ? and in Thy Name done many wonderful
works ? And then will I profess unto them, I never
knew you : depart from Me, ye that work iniquity.'
Very great restraint, then, must be put on the mind in
the midst of signs and miracles, lest, perchance, a man
seek his own glory in these things, and rejoice with a
merely private joy at the greatness of his exaltation.
Signs are given for the gaining of souls, and towards
His glory by whose power they are wrought. One
sign the Lord hath given us, wherein we may rejoice
with exceeding joy, and whereby we may recognise in
ourselves the glory of election, ' By this shall all men
know that ye are My disciples, if ye have love one
to another ;' 5 And this sign the prophet sought when
he said, ' Shew me some token for good, that they which
hate me may see it and be ashamed.' 6
" These things I say, because I desire to bring down
the mind of him who hears me to the depth of humility.
But I know that your humility hath a just confidence
of its own. I myself am a sinner ; and I hold it in
most certain hope, that, by the grace of God, even our
Lord Jesus Christ, our Almighty Creator and Redeemer,
your sins have been already forgiven, and therefore you
are in the number of the elect, so that the sins of others
may be forgiven by you. Nor will your guilt bring
sorrow in time to come, since your part it is to give
joy in Heaven by the conversion of many. He, the
same our Creator and Redeemer, said, when speaking of
5 John xiii. 35. 6 Ps. Ixxxvi. 17. (Ixxxv. Vulg.)
204 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
the repentance of man, ' I say unto you, that likewise
joy shall be in Heaven over one sinner that repent eth,
more than over ninety and nine just persons which need
no repentance/ 7 And if great joy, then, be in Heaven
over one penitent, what may we suppose that joy to be,
when so vast a nation is converted from its error, and,
coming to the Faith, condemns, by repentance, all the
evil that it hath done ? Let us unite in this joy of the
Angels of Heaven, by concluding with these same words
of Angels with which we began. Let us say let us
one and all say, ' Glory to God in the highest, and on
earth peace to men of good will.' " 8
Miserable, indeed, is it to interrupt the biography
of a Saint with discussions of an apologetic sound !
Miserable to exhibit such a letter as this, for evidence's
rather than for edification's sake ! May these blessed
Saints forgive the injury to their names, if such it be !
And may HE, whom we should chiefly fear to offend,
acquit of all irreverence this attempt to justify the mar-
vels of His grace in the sight of the unbeliever !
7 Luke xv. 7. 8 Lib. xi. Ep. 28.
FIRST PANBRITTANIC CONFERENCE. 205>
CHAPTER XX.
FIRST PANBRITTANIC CONFERENCE.
THE date of this celebrated meeting, as of other events
in the Life of St. Augustine of Canterbury, is a subject
of controversy among ecclesiastical antiquaries. It has
been attributed severally to the years 599, 601, 602,
603, and even 604. Its scene is acknowledged, on all
hands, to have been a certain spot " in the province
of the Huiccii, on the confines of the West Saxons,"
and most probably in one or other of the two present
counties of Gloucester or Worcester. Some fix it at a
place called Aust, or Aust-clive in the former county,
lying on the Severn, the usual passage for ferry-boats
from England into South Wales, and where Edward the
Elder had afterwards an interview with the Welsh
Prince, Leoline; though others are of opinion that, al-
though the site is thus correctly determined, the Con-
ference itself took place, not in a town, but under the
shadow of an oak-tree. That, at any rate, it was near
an oak, appears from the ancient name of the spot,
" Augustinaes-ac." 1
It does not appear that St. Augustine took more
than one great journey into the interior of England ;
1 See Cressy, Hist, of Brittany, B. xiii. c. 17, whose reasons for
considering that the Conference took place within-doors, in some village
appear satisfactory.
206 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
nor, considering the hindrances to locomotion which
those days presented, and the shortness of the time
into which his missionary labours were compressed,
is it likely that, without some strong motive, he should
have gone twice over the same ground. Now there
is reason for supposing that the Saint was at different
times in the northern, western, and midland parts of
England j for various records furnish traces of his foot-
steps in Yorkshire, Dorsetshire, and Oxfordshire. If,
then, his Yorkshire mission happened, as we have been
supposing, in 602, and if, as Mabillon represents, he
went from Yorkshire to the West of England, may it not
be supposed, with considerable probability, that he took
Worcestershire and Gloucestershire on his way from York-
shire into Dorsetshire ? This would bring the Synod of
Augustinaes-ac to about the year 603, which tallies
with the computations of some chronologists. If, as Ma-
billon seems to think, the Conferences with the British
bishops preceded the Yorkshire expedition, St. Augus-
tine must have come back to London before going into
the West, which does not agree with Mabillon's own
words. 2 Such inquiries are neither very interesting
nor very important, except, indeed, as all is interesting
and important which relates to the Saints. However,
it is some compensation to their natural dulness, that
they incidentally supply food for the imagination. It
matters little towards the great objects of ecclesiastical
history and biography, whether the Saint went this way
or that, or was present at some remarkable transaction
in one year or in another. But it vivifies our thoughts
of him to have some notion even upon the most sub-
ordinate topics of his history ; and far more essential is
2 In occidentalera ab aquilonali plaga divertit.
XX.] FIRST PANBRITTANIC CONFERENCE. 207
it that such a notion should be definite, than that it
should be true. And so much concerning the time and
the place of the Conference. Now let us turn our atten-
tion to the circumstances and subject of it.
We have lost sight of the British Church since 586,
when Theonus and Thadioc, archbishops respectively of
London and York, quitted their sees, bearing with them
the relics of Saints, and the appurtenances of Divine
Service, and withdrew into Wales. This was virtually
ceding the eastern and southern parts of the island to
the idolaters : but they had no alternative except death
or flight ; and it was not against their Lord's command,
when persecuted in one city, to flee to another. That
individual British Christians were mixed up, even at
the time of St. Augustine's arrival, with the Saxon popu-
lation, in the character of slaves, is, as a matter of
history, unquestionable ; but how far there could be any-
thing like Christianity in a country where was no
Church government, nor, as far as appears, any Christian
church, (excepting in Cornwall, which was a British
settlement, and at Canterbury, where St. Martin's had
been converted into a sort of private chapel for the
Queen,) does not sufficiently appear, though an opinion
has prevailed extensively to the contrary. In Wales,
however, the case was far otherwise ; in Wales were
several bishops, one large monastery, at least, with a
school of clerical education, consecrated places for Divine
worship, and a regular body of Clergy, secular as well as
regular.
We have already seen 3 that St. Gregory gave St. Au-
gustine authority over the British bishops, in these
words : " All the bishops of Britain we commit to your
3 Vid. supra, p. 171.
208 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
Fraternity." And now the time was come for the Arch-
bishop to assert his prerogative.
It must have been a very trying situation, that of the
British Christians. Their country was in the hands of
implacable enemies, of foreigners and idolaters ; with
themselves, at once exiled and not expatriated, was right
without possession, and the knowledge of the Truth,
without the ability to impart it. Fretted, if not harass-
ed, by the neighbourhood of their conquerors, they had
lost a footing in their own country without gaining one
in another ; they were prisoners in their own house.
To have sallied forth, cross in hand, and mixed, at the
imminent peril of their lives, among their prosperous
and insulting conquerors ; to have gone into the midst
of their bitterest enemies, not as vindicators of right, but
as ministers of peace ; to have had to waive all claims
but that of priority in the Kingdom of Heaven, and vir-
tually recognize the position of their invaders, by the
very fact of entering into pacific relations with them,
this would have been, indeed, a sore struggle to human
nature. These British Christians of St. Augustine's
time have been the subjects of a good deal of historical
unfairness on both sides ; they are all in the wrong with
one set of writers, and all in the right with another.
The truth seems to lie in a mean. There were certainly
no Saints and great men among them ; but when we
have said this, we have surely given the sum of their
offending ; or at least expressed the severest judgment
which circumstances warrant. It is to be feared that
pride was at the root of their apathy ; but it was
probably concealed from themselves under some one of
those countless disguises by which it passes itself off in
a creditable character to all but minds of the tenderest
conscientiousness, and most determined resolution. At
XX.] THE FIRST PANBRITTANIC CONFERENCE. 209
any rate, we Englishmen of this day, with our high
national professions, and our jealousy of foreign inter-
ference, have no right to be over critical upon the
subject of exclusiveness.
And again, it may readily be conceived that these
injured and uneasy exiles would look with no very fa-,
vourable eyes upon the new Archbishop. Notwithstanding
all their natural and human feelings and antipathies,
it could not but at times haunt them painfully, that
they were Christians, and their nearest neighbours
idolaters, and that in Christ there is neither barbarian
nor Scythian, bond nor free. They could not but ac-
knowledge that a great work lay at their doors, whatever
reasons there might exist for neglecting or delaying it.
Perhaps they still looked to undertake it, and the time
was not yet come. Meanwhile there penetrated, even as
far as them, the rumour of this " Italian priest," (as they
might be tempted to think of him,) who, appearing one
day on the shores of England, without intelligible claim,
or ostensible reason, or satisfactory credentials, had
made his way, with forty adventurers like himself, to
the seat of government and the court of royalty, and
there had ingratiated himself with men in power, and
risen by rapid steps to the throne which might seem to
belong, as of right, to others. And now he was peram-
bulating the land from end to end, with fame before
and blessings behind him. Who shall say that, under
such circumstances, all dissatisfaction must needs have
been ingratitude, and all mistrust envy ? Considering
the difficulty of accurate information peculiar to those
uncivilized times, the impediments to intercourse be-
tween the Britons and their enemies, with the various
liabilities to misrepresentation, and temptations to pre-
judice, which circumstances created, it really seems no
210 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
necessary discredit whatever to the aboriginal Christians
of this island, that, victims as they had conceivably
been, of fitful rumours and coloured representations,
they should have been somewhat disconcerted at the
tidings of St. Augustine's approach, and have given him
a less courteous reception than was meet.
Forth, however, they came, like the ghosts of a Church
which men had supposed to have been long " quietly
inurned j " or like antediluvian relics forced up by
some sudden convulsion to the surface of the ground ;
witnesses, in the sight even of unbelievers, to the
Church's age, and links of connexion with the abo-
riginal days. On this first occasion there seem to have
come but one or two representatives of the ancient
hierarchy of Britain, with certain of the clergy ; all
accounts speak of the former conference as far less
numerously attended and formally conducted than the
latter.
The life of the British Church was not indeed extinct,
but it was a slumbering and torpid life. Mutual sym-
pathy between the members of Christ's Body, is the very
condition of their energy and coherence ; and mutual
sympathy there can be none at least, none which is
thrilling and powerful, without active intercommunion.
The several members of each single Church are not more
intimately knit together in one communion and fellow-
ship, than is that special Church herself with the other
component parts of the great Christian family. Each
portion of Christ's heritage is a participant in the joys
and sufferings of the rest ; the greater has no right to
consider itself self-sufficient, nor the lesser insignificant ;
the foot and the hand cannot dispense each with the
other's ministrations. The Church is shadowed forth in
Holy Scripture under all those images which especially
XX,] THE FIRST PANBRITTANIC CONFERENCE. 211
denote the intimacy of mutual relation between the
parts, and of the parts to the whole. It is the Vine
whose sap circulates through all the branches ; it is the
building "fitly joined together and compacted by that
which every joint supplieth ;" it is the river of Paradise,
whose divergent streams fertilize the earth. Branches
severed from the main stem flourish awhile, and then
die ; they have no vigour of their own. That they
vegetate at all, in their separated state, this proves
nothing but the tenacity of the life which for a season
inheres in them. They survive the convulsion which
has rent them from the parent stock, but it is a sickly
and a pining life which still cleaves to them. They are
not dead, but they do not thrive. It is the same with
an amputated limb ; it does not stiffen and shrivel up at
once ; but it is past animating, and what is more, the
main body resents the injury which has been done it,
and leaves the insulated branch, or member, as it were,
to its fate. We cannot re-insert it so as to make it share
in the healthful juices of the system. We may tie it on,
but the system works independently of it, and it dies
none the less. A limb which is only broken, may be re-
set ; a branch which is only languid, may be reinvigo-
rated; but once detach it from the trunk, and all hope of
reunion must end.
Not less fatal to the life at least to the vigour, of the
detached member is every case of real, energetic schism
in the Christian Body. What schism is, this is a ques.
tion by itself. Like all other sins, it admits of its
multifarious degrees, and its indefinitely near approxi-
mations without actual contact. And what is true of
bodies in schism, is, by the very terms of the analogy just
employed, not true of bodies only on the verge of it, or
clear of its special guilt.
212 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
And this latter appears to have been precisely the case
of the ancient British Church at all events, till it
formally repudiated the authority of St. Augustine.
Whether that act of repudiation made the whole dif-
ference between communion and non-communion, is a
matter which our present ecclesiastical position pre-
cludes us from discussing without liability to misap-
prehension, or danger of disloyalty, either to our own
communion, or to the Church Catholic; but, at any rate,
the British Christians were not in the same moral situ-
ation before and after the " Synod of Augustine's Oak,"
for their sin, if such it were, was rendered, by the issue
of that meeting, a conscious and formal, when before it
had been but a latent and undeveloped one.
Our present concern, however, is with the state of the
British Church anterior to the former of the two con-
ferences. And surely that state was one far less of fault
than of misfortune. The ancient Church of Britain, like
every other Church in those days of Christendom, was
nominally and externally in communion with the See
of Rome ; but from some of the special blessings of
that dependence upon the centre of unity, the Church
of Britain had long been cut off; all political
connexion between this island and Rome had ceased
from a comparatively early time, and, while the flame of
zeal and charity which St. Germanus had kindled, was
waxing continually weaker and weaker, the British
Church, whether through apathy or dislike of foreign
interference, made no effort to replenish its wasting lamp
from an external source. It is plainly impossible that
either unity or uniformity can be maintained, if
Churches refuse to confer and (if we may use the ex-
pression) compare notes, with one another. As to doc-
trinal orthodoxy, indeed, there seems no good reason for
XX.] THE FIRST PANBRITTANIC CONFERENCE. 213
supposing that the British Church swerved in the suc-
ceeding generations from the ancient traditions restored
by St. Germanus ; but in points of ecclesiastical practice,
trenching hard upon essentials, a very serious amount of
slovenliness had crept in without remonstrance, and was
harboured without apparent consciousness. We have
already noticed certain irregularities, perhaps under the
circumstances inevitable, in the consecration of St. Ken-
tigern, 3 which do not seem to have attracted obser-
vation till the active communication between England
and the See of Rome was revived in the time of St.
Gregory. A still more considerable departure from
ecclesiastical tradition and usage seems to have gained
ground about the same period, (the earlier part of the
sixth century,) which will require a distinct considera-
tion in this place.
As early as the second century, a difference sprang
up between the East and West on the subject of keeping
Easter. Certain Asiatics, professing to follow the tradi-
tion of St. John, were for keeping the Paschal Feast on
the 14th day of the first Jewish month, coincidently
with the celebration of the Passover among the Jews ;
and three days afterwards, without regard to the day
of the week, they commemorated our Lord's Resurrection.
The Western Churches followed a different method, for
which they pleaded the authority of St. Peter. They
kept Easter on the Sunday intervening between the
14th and 21st day of the moon of March. Thus while
(so far like the others) they did not destroy, but fulfil
the ancient ceremonial law, in keeping the Passover
between the 14th day at evening and the 21st day at
evening, they invariably commemorated the Resurrec-
3 Vid. supra,. p. 38.
214 ST. AUGUSTINE. [OH.
tion on " the first day of the week." Hence arose a
sharp controversy between the East and West : the
Western Churches accused those of the East of Judaism ;
while they were themselves in turn charged with mak-
ing the law of none effect through their own unautho-
rized traditions. About the middle of the second cen-
tury, St. Polycarp came to Rome to confer with Pope
Anicetus on the subject ; but they separated without
any satisfactory result. Almost fifty years later, Pope
Victor, after having consulted with other bishops of the
West, issued a decree in which the Quartodecimans (or
maintainers of the 14th day against the Sunday) refused
to acquiesce, and Pope Victor then proceeded to excom-
municate the refractory bishops. Peace was afterwards
restored by the intervention of St. Irenseus, the great
Bishop of Lyons ; and the contending Churches re-
mained in the practice of their own several rules, till the
Councils of Aries and Nicaea, which happened nearly at
the same time, and both in the earlier part of the fourth
century. At the Council of Nicaea the Western rule
was adopted as the law of Christendom.
As the British Church was represented, certainly at
Aries, and possibly also at Nicaea, and was afterwards
complimented by the Emperor Constantine for having
come in to the Nicaean decrees, 4 it is not to be doubted
that any irregularity in the point of Easter which may
have afterwards prevailed in these islands was of later
and of native growth. But indeed it does not appear
that the British Church ever deviated into the Quarto-
deciman practice. It acquiesced in a medium between
the Catholic and the schismatical observance ; always
keeping Easter on a Sunday, but not taking care to keep
4 Vid. supra, p. 39.
XX.] THE FIRST PANBRITTANIC CONFERENCE. 215
clear of the actual 14th day of the moon. Thus its
practice was semi-Catholic and semi-Judaizing.
Now, in one point of view, no doubt, it may be said,
and with great truth, the less the difference the greater
the schism. So far it was doubtless very inexcusable in
the British Christians to break unity for what would
have been a mere trifle, if wanton and wilful difference
from Catholic rule can ever be such. Thus, however, it
was ; and when St. Augustine proposed to them confor-
mity on the point of Easter as one of the conditions of
union with the See of Canterbury, and through it with
the Chair of St. Peter, they demurred. Of three propo-
sitions, then, which St. Augustine submitted to the
British delegates, this was the first.
The second point of discrepancy between British and
Catholic practice upon which St. Augustine stood out,
related to the Sacrament of Baptism. In what precise
respect the British baptisms were irregular, does not
clearly appear ; but as serious objection was taken by the
Archbishop to their mode of administration, it may well
be supposed that the irregularity was one which went
to affect the essence of the Sacrament. For it does not
seem that St. Augustine was in the least disposed to be
captious and over-exacting. It is distinctly said by St.
Bede that " in many respects the British Church acted
at variance with ecclesiastical unity," 5 so that St. Au-
gustine selected the more prominent instances only. Now
when it is remembered, on the one hand, how jealous a
watch the Catholic Church has ever exercised over the
manner of celebrating the Sacraments, and, on the other,
how little unbelievers and heretics, since they profane
and set at nought the Sacraments themselves, are likely
5 H. E. lib. ii. c. 2.
216 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
to appreciate this caution, it is surely no wonder either
that St. Augustine should have made a stand upon this
requirement, or that he should have been regarded by
many critics as a mere formalist and trifler for so doing.
St. Augustine's third stipulation was, that the Bri-
tish bishops should co-operate with him in the conver-
sion of the Saxons. It is not quite plain whether by
this proposal St. Augustine meant to require any sub-
jection, on the part of the British bishops, to his autho-
rity as Archbishop of Canterbury and representative in
England of the Roman See ; whether, in short, he proposed
that in converting the Saxons, the bishops of Britain
should act under him, or merely with him. Protestant
writers are accustomed to say the former, while Catholics
maintain, as if controversially, the latter. The one
make it a charge against the Saint that he was arrogant
and imperious ; the other defend him, of course, against
this charge, and consider that he waived the right with
which St. Gregory had formally invested him, as a mat-
ter of spiritual policy, and for unity and charity's sake.
If the latter were indeed the fact, it sets the refusal of the
British bishops in this particular in all the more unfa-
vourable light, as, in that case, to all appearance, a mere
gratuitous and wholly inexcusable breach of Christian
unity. If, on the other hand, St. Augustine, as Protes-
tants say, claimed power over the British bishops in the
name and on the behalf of St. Peter, this again, though
it goes some way towards exculpating the refractory
bishops of Britain, is, for other reasons, a serious consi-
deration. The professors of Protestantism can afford to
make such admissions without misgiving; but the
thoughtful student of ecclesiastical antiquity cannot for-
get that the transaction belongs to a period all but
within those earlier centuries of Christianity, whose pre-
XX.] THE FIRST PANBRITTANIC CONFERENCE. 217
cedents the greatest divines of the Church of England
have been accustomed to treat with respect and defer-
ence. It is the business of the historian or biographer,
as such, in however humble a line, to exhibit facts, not
to adjudicate between parties j and it is earnestly hoped
that in the present instance no departure from this prin-
ciple has been consciously admitted.
At any rate, and from whatever cause, whether as a
determined, and, as we may trust, conscientious assertion
of independence, or, as enemies will say, in the spirit of
rational exclusiveness, or in a peevish dislike of inter-
ference, or a childish love of doing things in their own
way, or from any other less honourable motive, certain
it is that the Britons were not disposed to retreat even
so much as a single inch from the ground they had
taken up. Not one point would they concede, even of
the three very moderate and reasonable stipulations
proposed to them ; they declined to conform either to the
Catholic rule of Easter, or to the practice in respect of
Baptism ; and what makes their determination more
apparent, not to say their obstinacy more glaring, they
absolutely refused to co-operate with a brother-bishop in
the conversion of their heathen neighbours.
At length the blessed Saint, finding all his arguments
ineffectual, had recourse to a different expedient for
subduing the refractory Britons. He determined to
commit the cause to God. Mere argument seldom, if
ever, does more than to draw out controversies into
shape ; prayer it is which brings men together, or
causes them to take each their side. It sifts, if it fails
to combine ; and ever better than " vain j anglings," or
hollow compacts, are even severances, which leave us
free, at least, from the temptations to compromise, and
the " laborious indolence " of unprofitable and inter-
218 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
minable debate. And St. Augustine had now reached
this point, " laboriosi et longi certaminis finein," 6 when
choice must be made between the alternatives of deter-
mining to agree, or agreeing to differ.
He accordingly closed the discussion by an invitation
to prayer. The precise words of his prayer have come
down to us, and it is what we should now call a " bidding ''
prayer. It ran as follows : " Let us beseech God, who
maketh men to be of one mind in an house, that He
would vouchsafe, by heavenly notices, to put into our
minds whether of these two traditions be the rather to
be followed, and which be the true way of entrance for
those who are seeking to hasten towards His King-
dom." And then he added : "Let some sick be
brought near, and by whosesoever prayers he shall be
healed, let the faith and works of that one be judged
devout towards God, and an ensample for men to follow."
It was a feature in the piety of that age, or rather it
is a feature of Catholic piety in every age, to believe in
the doctrine of a " special Providence." This doctrine has
no doubt been miserably abused by fanatics, and is
liable, like all else that is distinctive of the Church, to a
superstitious use at all times. That particular form of
it, especially, according to which the success of a cause
is made, under certain circumstances, the test of its
righteousness, has shared the fate of other holy impres-
sions of religious ages or miraculous systems ; it has
outlived its generation, or travelled beyond the limits of
its native soil or congenial atmosphere, and then, pre-
senting itself among strangers, it has been ill-treated,
because ill-understood, or has, perhaps, encountered at
their hands some of the natural effects of an unamiable
6 S. Bede, H. E. lib. ii. c. 2.
XX.] THE FIRST PANBRITTANIC CONFERENCE. 219
decrepitude, or an insulated strangeness. The peculiar
method of judicial decision entitled " Trial by Battle,"
which has been abolished within the memory not of the
oldest amongst us, was an obsolete and misshapen relic
of this family, which, like some piece of ancient furni-
ture, beautiful in its day and in its place, had grown out
of date or out of fashion, and, far from suggesting any
grateful idea, or exemplifying any high principle, had
come to be regarded with a sort of contemptuous wonder,
as a mere antiquarian curiosity,
A parallel instance to the present history is furnished
in that part of the life of St. Germanus which has
entered into the present biographical sketch.? St.
Germanus, it will be remembered, established the Catholic
Faith against heretics by the issue of the same criterion
to which St. Augustine of Canterbury now appeals in
vindication of the great principle of Catholic unity.
St. Augustine, like St. Germanus, proposed to determine
the question with his opponents by a miracle, and they,
though, as we are told, with reluctance, 8 accepted the
challenge. This reluctance certainly indicated mistrust
in their own cause, and reflects an unsatisfactory light
on their conduct in the discussion. However, they
could not but consent ; and accordingly, among the
multitudes whom the fame of the great Archbishop, or
the report of this eventful debate, had drawn to the spot,
was speedily found an eager applicant for the Divine
bounty, in the person of a blind Saxon. He was taken
first to the British clergy, and, upon the failure of their
attempts to heal him, was brought to St. Augustine.
Then the Saint, falling on his knees, entreated of the
Divine goodness that He would grant eyes to the blind,
7 Vid. supra, p. 30.
8 Adversarii, inviti licet, concesserunt.
220 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
and through means of his corporeal light extend the
blessings of spiritual illumination to many. Imme-
diately his sight was restored, and the whole multitude
proclaimed that Augustine was a man of God, and a
preacher of the true Way. Even the Britons assented,
but added that it was a hard thing to forsake the tradi-
tion of one's forefathers. The sympathies of the heart
cannot at once bend to the convictions of the under-
standing. Who can or would wish to deny it 1 They
asked time for deliberation, and consultation with the
men in authority among them, which was readily
granted. And thus terminated the first Conference of
Augustinaes-ac.
XXI.] SECOND CONFERENCE. 221
CHAPTER XXI.
SECOND CONFERENCE.
THE parties separated upon the understanding that
the Conference was to be renewed. The questions raised
were too great to be determined at once ; the British
Christians could not but see that, however secondary the
concessions required of them, the points in debate could
not be yielded without involving very fundamental
changes in their ecclesiastical condition. The proposals,
at all events, had taken them in some measure by sur-
prise; the proceedings at the first Conference had been
more or less abrupt and tumultuary ; the representation
of their Church was inadequate ; they wanted leisure
for consideration, with the opportunity of taking coun-
sel in prudent quarters, and of rallying their forces for a
second and final encounter.
The British Church, notwithstanding its depression,
furnished at this time specimens of the religious state
both in community and in solitude. Of the former
kind was the great monastery of Bancor, in Flintshire,
sometimes confounded with Bangor, in Caernarvonshire.
This monastery was in a very prosperous condition,
being tenanted by no less than 2100 monks, drawn no
doubt from the Scottish and Irish Churches in com-
munion with the ancient British. And it seems to have
been strictly ordered as well as flourishing ; the monks
being distributed into seven classes, who took it by turns
to conduct the Divine office in choir. The name of the
222 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
abbot at this time was Dinoot or Dinoth ; and he com-
manded, it is said, not less by his high theological ac-
quirements, than by his prominent station, the univer-
sal respect of the Church. He therefore was at once
taken into consultation upon the important subject of
the late Conference, and engaged to be present at its
reassembling on a given day.
But one there was whose judgment carried yet more
of oracular weight with the Church of his time. This
was an ancient solitary, whose abode the Welsh reader,
or the reader who is familiar with Wales, will fix, in his
imagination, in some secluded glen of the Alpine district
of Caernarvon or Merioneth, where placid lake or gur-
gling stream would furnish to the hand the scant and
primitive repast, and howling winds make silence audi-
ble, and some ' giant brotherhood ' of mountains seem to
keep sentinel against the intrusion of the world. Little
recked he of strifes and debates, of subtle questions and
high controversies ; content if haply he might learn
day by day to solve that one chief problem whose solu-
tion is at last the triumph of all spiritual skill, the
saving of one's own soul. Each member has his own
office in Christ's body; and the work of hermits is to
combat the world not by the weapons, legitimate and
needful as they are, of deep penetrative wisdom and
argumentative power, and dexterous ecclesiastical tact,
but by the violence of prayer and the silent logic of holy
living. Yet in simple times, nay, and with guileless
minds in every time, such marvels of sanctity will ever
be invested with somewhat of the dignity of oracles ;
the very romance which surrounds them will be favour-
able to their influence j and no doubt, as compared with
mere cleverness, the " harmlessness of the dove " is as
much better a guide in practical matters, as, in the
XXI.] SECOND CONFERENCE. 223
same subjects, the "wisdom of the serpent" in union
with that same singleness of heart and eye, is superior to
both.
Our solitary of the Cambrian desert had to pay the
forfeit of his great celebrity. One day, and to all ap-
pearance like other days, when dreaming, perhaps, of
nothing less, his privacy was invaded by a party of
grave inquirers, and his powers of discrimination taxed,
as we may say, beyond all warrant, to determine a ques-
tion meeter for Pope or Council, than for a private
Christian like himself. Upon the issue of that question
it depended whether thousands of Christians scattered
in different parts of the British isles should at once be
linked to the centre of unity, or remain, perhaps for
centuries, to say the least, in a very equivocal position.
Yet who shall deny that there is something very attrac-
tive to the imagination, and even congenial to the moral
and spiritual instinct in this recourse, under circum-
stances of difficulty, to such a man of God 1 Who shall
question that there is something most thoroughly un-
worldly about it ? Who can fail to trace in it a recog-
nition of the power of prayer, an homage to the majesty
of holiness 1 In truth, when churches are insulated and
crippled, as that of ancient Britain was, individual sanc-
tity will be ever apt to supply the place of an ultimate
authority, and its verbal expressions be accepted almost
as the accents of a voice from the other world.
The response from the hermit's cell was just of the
kind which might have been expected ; full of sweet sim-
plicity, and obviously wanting in practical wisdom. " If
he be a man of God, follow him." " But how," rejoined
the inquirers, " shall we prove that he is such ?" " The
Lord," was the answer, " hath said, ' Take My yoke
upon you and learn of Me, for I am meek and lowly in
224 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
heart.' And if Augustine be meek and lowly, belike
he beareth Christ's yoke himself, and proposeth to
you to bear it. But, contrariwise, if he be cruel and
proud, then, of a surety, no man of God is he, nor do
his words concern us." " But how," persisted they,
"are we to know this also?" " Cause," was the answer,
" that he and his come first to the place of meeting, and
if he rise as you draw near, then know that he is the
servant of Christ, and hear, and obey him. But if he
make light of you, and forbear to rise as ye come in,
being more in number, then my counsel is that ye too
make light of him." Thereupon the deputies with-
drew, promising compliance with the suggestion.
Truly such simplicity has almost the air of craft ; this
criterion of humility upon which, in the innocence of
his heart, and as if for want of a better, the good hermit
stumbles, savours almost of the spirit of the world.
And perhaps this is not the only instance in which one
Christian quality, apart from its corrective, may even
wear the semblance, and work the results, of its very
opposite. The moral and spiritual virtues must be
balanced to prevent an overthrow. Where was it ever
heard but in the courts of princes and the halls of
fashion, that peace and love should be marred for the
sake of an etiquette 1 Doubtless the Church has her
" etiquettes," her minute and delicate proprieties, as well
as the world ; but to lay stress on them, to reckon upon
them with carefulness, or to be absorbed by them, or
even to think of them a second time, this belongs rather
to the spirit of the world than of the Church. Little
thought the apostle of England what mighty results for
good or for ill depended upon the performance or
neglect of that complimentary gesture.
The second Synod was conducted with far greater
XXI.] SECOND CONFERENCE. 225
solemnity than the first. The representation of the
British Church was more complete, and the proceed-
ings, it would appear, more regular. The Archbishop
was attended, as on the former occasion, by SS. Mel-
litus and Justus, who were, probably, even at that
time, designated to their respective sees of London and
Rochester. He came, too, in his pontifical robes, with
the ensign of metropolitical rank with which he had
lately been invested. On the other side there are said
to have been no fewer than seven bishops, though it
does not appear that more than three sees were at the
time occupied in Wales ; that is to say, St. David's,
Elwy (afterwards St. Asaph's), and Llandaff. If more
than three bishops were present, the remainder must
have come from some of the adjoining counties, which
were possibly at that early period included within
the Welsh frontier. Historians pronounce that there
was then no archbishop in Wales ; Caerleon having
merged in Llandaff, and the last Archbishop of Menevia
having carried the pall over sea into Lesser Brittany in
the year 560. Among the British deputies present at
the Council was the venerable Dinoth, abbot of Bancor.
The issue of the Conference was practically determined
by the mode of reception which the Archbishop of Can-
terbury adopted towards the representatives of the
British Church. As a fact, he received them sitting.
Different reasons have been assigned for this appa-
rent discourtesy, of which that which has principally
obtained is that such practice is, after all, in accordance
with ecclesiastical rule. A great precedent is quoted in
the case of St. Cyril at the Council of Ephesus. It is
said that where a synod is conducted in due form, with
the presiding bishop in pontificalibus, the act of rising
at the entrance of each deputy would create an incon-
Q
'22 G ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
venient disturbance. Or it may have been that St.
Augustine was an archbishop, and the delegates of the
British Church merely bishops. Or, that the Arch-
bishop of Canterbury really designed to vindicate his
authority as the representative of the Holy See. Or that
his mind was at the moment occupied on graver subjects
than matters of external politeness, and that he thus
omitted, through inadvertency, an act of proper con-
sideration. Certain only it is that what was at worst
but an excusable negligence, was taken as a serious
insult. " Immediately," says the historian, " they be-
came incensed, and esteeming it an act of haughtiness,
set themselves to contradict all he said." L It must be
acknowledged that the British bishops did themselves
110 credit by taking such a trifle so much to heart.
The affair must strike every reasonable and candid
person as simply childish ; though perhaps not a little
of this character is derived from the state of the times.
The calm demeanour and temperate policy of the
great Archbishop, shows to advantage by contrast with
the peevish and narrow-minded spirit in which his
overtures were met. " Truly," was his address, " your
customs are in many respects at variance with our own,
nay, with all Catholic practice. Howbeit, if you will
comply with my injunctions 2 in three particulars, we
will patiently bear with all your contrarieties to the
tradition of the Church. And these three are, 1. That
you will celebrate the Paschal Festival at the canonical
time. 2. That you will supply, in conformity to the
holy Apostolic and Roman Church, certain defects in
your manner of administering the Sacrament of Baptism,
wherein we are born anew to God. 3. That you will
1 S. Bede, H. E. lib. ii. c. 2. 2 Obtemperare.
XXI.] SECOND CONFERENCE. 227
join with us in preaching the Word of God to the
English nation."
To this moderate request the indignant Britons
replied, " We will do none of these things ; moreover we
will not have you for archbishop." And then turning
to one another they murmured, " If he would not rise
up as we entered, what chance shall we have of respect
from him if we acknowledge his authority over us 1 ?"
Now it certainly does not appear that the Archbishop
directly stipulated for the obedience of the British
bishops. Perhaps, however, their sensitive ears caught at
the word " obtemperare" though it certainly fell very
short of a claim of universal authority. It is generally
thought that their apprehensions and suspicions outran
the occasion, and that they were resolved upon putting
an end to the controversy at once by a gratuitous mani-
festation of independence, which sounds not a little like
a very uncalled-for expression of disrespect. Because
they would not have St. Augustine for their archbishop,
they seem to have treated him almost as if he had been
no bishop at all.
There is, indeed, a story which finds credit with some
historians, but of which the grounds are generally
confessed to be at least doubtful ; according to which the
answer of the British bishops was at once more definite
and more respectful. It is said that by the mouth of
Dinoth their prolocutor, the deputies rejoined, " That
the British Churches owe the deference of brotherly
kindness and charity to the Pope of Rome, and to all
Christians. But other obedience than this they do not
know to be due to him whom they call Pope, and, for
their parts, they were under the jurisdiction of the
Bishop of Caerleon upon Usk who, under God, was their
spiritual overseer and director."
228 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
On the ears of the present writer this document
strikes as too precise and controversial for the time ;
as rather savouring of anti-Catholic polemics than of
primeval naivete, as rather a speech written for the
ancient Britons, and embodying its framer's views of
historical probability, than as a record whose internal
evidence is calculated to accredit it. Collier, indeed,
accepts it upon the authority of Sir Henry Spelman,
" who sets it down in Welsh, English, and Latin, and
tells us he had it from Mr. Peter Mostyn, a Welsh
gentleman." One serious internal objection, at all
events, lies in its way, which is, that the metropolitical
jurisdiction of the Welsh Church had been transferred
from Caerleon uponllsk to Menevia since the time of Du-
bricius. It is answered that the rights of the see of Mene-
via were never recognized universally in the British
Church, and that Caerleon still preserved a kind of tradi-
tionary claim upon the deference of its suffragans. Still,
it seems plain that in the time of St. Augustine the
metropolitan see of Caerleon had at best but a sort of
ideal existence, which it would certainly seem strange to
so have pleaded in opposition to a claim so apparent and
venerable as that of the See of Canterbury. On the whole
it is, perhaps, safest to confine our regard to the simple
and graphic narrative of our own Catholic historian.
It will have been observed that the British bishops
now gave in their final refusal of St. Augustine's con-
ditions. Some Protestant historians appear to find great
difficulty in defending the Britons from the charge of
indifference to the religious welfare of their Saxon
neighbours. Their resistance on the points of order
and custom is often thought to require but little expla-
nation ; though, in fact, if the intensity of the schisma-
tical spirit is at all to be measured by the insignificance
XXI.] SECOND CONFERENCE. * 229
of the temptation to a breach of unity, the opposition of
the British bishops on the ceremonial questions should
be taken as a peculiarly decisive mark of their attach-
ment to the principles of independence. But there is
something, no doubt, which suggests even a far more
painful impression of the British Church in the reluc-
tance which its representatives manifested on the subject
of the Saxon mission. The vindication set up by some
writers in their behalf is in the highest degree unworthy
of grave and sensible men. It is said that St. Augus-
tine had disqualified himself from pleading the cause of
the poor Saxons in the presence of the British delegates
by having failed to press upon those Saxons, in the
name and with the authority of the Holy See, the duty
of restoring the conquered territory to its original
possessors. A more remarkable instance of incon-
sistency and extravagance than is presented by this
apology cannot well be conceived. Perhaps if there
be one charge which is more commonly preferred than
another against the Christian policy of Rome, it is that
of her disposition to meddle in international politics.
Her line of conduct in this respect is often invidiously
contrasted with that of the Apostolic Church. The
account of any real differences between the policy of the
earlier and later Church is of course to be found in the
altered circumstances of the world since the wider spread
of Christianity and the reception of whole nations into
the fold of Christ. But never, surely, has the Holy See
departed so far from the maxims of Apostolic Christianity
as to commit itself to such a system of gratuitous inter-
ference with national arrangements as would tend to
throw all the rights of property into confusion, and keep
the whole civilized world in a perpetual state of change
and commotion. This most preposterous conception then
230 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH
being done away, there really would not appear to have
been any even plausible reason for the coldness with
which the great Archbishop's zealous and charitable offer
was received. 3
The issue of the Conference being thus disastrous as
respected the interests of Catholic unity, the Archbishop
rose and departed. On quitting the assembly he de-
livered his mind in a solemn and startling prediction.
" If," said he, addressing the dissatisfied prelates in a
tone which, according to his biographers, sounded like
inspiration ; " If you will not listen to my entreaties,
now prepare yourselves for the terrors of a denunciation.
I call you to peace, but you make yourselves ready to
battle ; bear, then, to be dealt with as enemies by those
with whom you refuse to deal as brethren. You grudge
your neighbours the word of eternal life. They will
avenge themselves upon you by unsheathing against you
the sword of temporal death."
This declaration of our great apostle has sometimes
been called, rather invidiously, a menace. In a certain
sense, no doubt, all the prophetical, nay, and all the
evangelical denunciations in holy Scripture may be so
called. The Psalms of David, and even the Apostolical
Epistles, contain many such menaces. Again, " Woe
unto you that laugh now, for ye shall mourn and weep ; "
this also, with its awful concomitants, is in a certain
sense a solemn and terrible threat. Every prediction of
punishment, nay, and in some sort every deprecatory
warning, admits of being called a threat, and is apt to
receive that name at the hands of soft-minded men.
3 It is said that the Bishop of Llandaff, who represented Caerleon
also, submitted to the Archbishop of Canterbury, and that St. Oudoceus,
successor of St. Theliau, who was Bishop at this time, received conse-
cration at Canterbury from St. Augustine. Vide Ussher.
XXI.] SECOND CONFERENCE. 231
And thus, ere now, unbelievers or heretics have dared to
speak of portions even of the holy Scriptures, as what they
term "vindictive." Considering where such impieties
have sought out their objects, and in what kind of re-
sults they have sometimes issued, it is a small thing
indeed that a Saint of the Church should sustain (under
whatever hopeful circumstances of invincible ignorance)
such irreverent, that we may not say blasphemous, impu-
tations. Meanwhile, the Church, of course, esteems all
her chief lights to be sharers, in their measure, of the
prophetic Spirit. And of them who are far less than her
burning and shining lights, of all her ordinary priests,
she believes that they are clothed from on high with
power to bind as well as to loose ; and if so be that in this
behaviour of the British Christians there were aught of
wilful opposition to Divine grace, (as who shall say that
there certainly was not ?) it may have been that God
would have them a warning to His Church, by inflicting
on them some conspicuous chastisement, whereby at
once others might be made more fearful of offending,
and their own souls ripened for glory by one sharp and
critical pang of intermediate suffering.
A sharp and stinging chastisement it was, and a con-
spicuous example withal. It shall be recounted in
the words of St. Bede.
" Through effect of a Divine judgment, the prophecy
was to the minutest particular brought to pass. For,
after these things, Ethelfrid, the valiant king of the
Angles, of whom we have already spoken, got together a
great army, and made a mighty slaughter of this perfi-
dious people at the city of the Legions, which the Angles
call Legacaestir, but the British, more properly, Caer-
legion. When, as the battle was about to begin, he saw
their priests, who had met together to offer prayers for
232
ST. AUGUSTINE. [cH.
their commander, standing apart in a place of safety,
he inquired who they might be, and with what object
they had assembled there. Now, very many of these
priests were attached to Bancor monastery, in which
there is related to have been such a number of monks,
that, albeit the monastery was divided into seven por-
tions, each portion having its immediate superior ; not
any one of these portions contained fewer than three hun-
dred men, all of whom were accustomed to live by the
labour of their hands. It so happened that a great
party of these monks, after a three days' fast, had
repaired, along with other persons, to the scene of the
afore-mentioned battle with the view of offering prayers.
Their protector, who guarded them while engaged in
their devotions from the swords of the enemy, was one
Brocmail. When king Ethelfrid was made acquainted
with the reason of their coming, he cried, ' Of a truth,
since these are praying to their God against us, they
are fighting against us, albeit they wear no arms, since
they are using against us this weapon of their impreca-
tions.' Accordingly he bade his troops turn their arms
in the very outset against these men, and so destroyed,
not without great loss on his own side, the remaining
forces of this hateful 4 band. It is said that there were
killed, in that engagement, of those who came to pray,
about twelve hundred men, and that fifty alone were
saved by flight. As for Brocmail, he and his party betook
themselves to flight at the very first onset of the enemy,
and left those whom he was bound to have protected,
weak and defenceless, and a ready prey to the sword of
the slayer. Thus was fulfilled the presage of the holy
bishop Augustine, albeit himself translated to the hea-
4 NefancUe.
XXI.] SECOND CONFERENCE. 233
venly courts long before. And so these traitors to the
Church 5 received the vengeance of temporal death for
having despised counsels so profitable to their souls'
eternal health." 6
We have scarcely ventured to give the full force of the
original, through a fear of shocking prejudices, even
though by the words of another, and that other a great
and famous Catholic historian. Many of those around
us can ill brook the language in which Catholics de-
scribe the sin of schism. Many, also, are fain to espouse
these ancient British Christians as champions of an im-
portant principle, and exemplifiers of an advantageous
precedent. And of the present biographical sketches, the
object is not to foment divisions, but to promote charity,
and no otherwise to enforce a side in controversy, than
by the impartial display of facts.
On the other hand, the ancient British Church has
been the object of unfairly adverse, as well as unfairly
eulogistic representations ; among which is a charge
brought against it, or, at the least, a suspicion raised
with respect to it, by the historian Milner, of a tendency
to PelagianismJ But, indeed, it were derogatory to the
work of the great St. German, to suppose that the
noxious weeds of that presumptuous heresy had not
long since been extirpated from British soil. And, as a
fact, St. Augustine's selection of charges against the
British Church on the score of merely ceremonial irregu-
5 Perfidi.
6 The words of the original are even stronger ; " quod oblata sibi
perpetuse salutis consilia spreverunt."
7 The present writer cannot forbear, however, from paying his
tribute, such as it may be, of gratitude and respect to this Protestant
historian for the religious candour with which he seeks to do justice in
the present, as in many other instances, to the Saints of the Church.
234 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
larity, must be taken as an acquittal upon the whole
subject of doctrine. The only point of charge to create
uneasiness on this score, is that which relates to Bap-
tism ; but farther inquiry leads the present writer to
hope that he was premature 8 in supposing the irregulari-
ties which had crept into the British Church to be such
as might probably affect the essence of the Sacrament.
Cressy throws out a hopeful suggestion, to the effect
that they more probably related to some discrepancy
from the Catholic Church as to the seasons of adminis-
tration, or the length of time allowed for the instruction
of catechumens.
The Caerleon mentioned in the above extract from
St. Bede is not Caerleon upon Usk, but Chester. As
to Bancor, the seat of the great British monastery, a
kind friend, thoroughly versed in the topography of
Wales, and the neighbouring counties, writes to the
author in the following words : " I have no doubt that
the place in question is Bangor Monachoruin in the
hundred of Maelor, a detached portion of Flintshire
bordering on Shropshire. Bangor is a parish, lying
about four miles from Wrexham, and upon the high
road from thence to Whitchurch, close to the river Dee.
There are, however, no traces of high antiquity in the
place, and the church has been in a great measure re-
built."
8 Vid. supra, p. 215.
XXII.] HIS LATTER YEARS. 235
CHAPTER XXII.
ST. AUGUSTINE. HIS LATTER YEARS.
IT was now made plain that St, Augustine and his com-
panions would have to prosecute their missionary labours
single-handed. And although the Saint's earthly time
was rapidly drawing to its close, those labours could
hardly be considered to have as yet more than begun.
What has been remarked of other Saints is peculiarly
true of St. Augustine of Canterbury. His characteristic
work in the Church was shut up in a comparatively
brief time. His life, till he had passed middle age, was
hidden from the world. His ministry was comprised
in little more than ten years, and of these, eventful as
were all of them, the three latter would seem to have
been the most critical of all. St. Augustine was in the
number of those Saints who lived more than half their
days to God, and but a few of them only for man, ex-
cepting indeed as none can live to God without also
living for man. But can we wonder that the lives of the
Saints should be miniatures, so to speak, of the life of our
Blessed Lord 1 Of Him also we know but little till He
began to be about thirty years of age. His work for men,
so far as it was visible, was accomplished in little more
than three years, while what may perhaps be called,
without irreverence, the awful and determining crisis, was
of yet shorter duration.
The circumstances of St. Augustine's later life, with
the exception of some few leading facts, are involved in
236
ST. AUGUSTINE.
a good deal of historical uncertainty. The historian
whose name carries the greatest weight with critics and
antiquaries, St. Bede the Venerable, sums up the period
subsequent to the Second Conference with the Britons in
one or two chapters. The wide interstices in St. Bede's
narrative are filled up by Gocelin, but this biographer
rather no doubt represents the idea of the Saint, upon
which the Church Catholic has always fed, than admits of
being substantiated by proofs satisfactory to the learned
inquirer. It may perhaps be questioned whether any
history can pass from the character of a mere chronicle
without becoming more or less of a romance ; certainly
it is not pretended with respect to these Lives that
they do, or that they can, rest in each several particular
upon producible evidence. All which is professed with
respect to them is, that the laws by which all historical
writing is regulated are not here consciously violated.
Let it be considered whether the great staple of the
evidence upon which all history depends is not what
falls under the department of verisimilitude rather
than of legal proof. And then let it also be considered,
whether many of the objections made against hagiography
do not ultimately resolve themselves into objections
rather to the subject-matter than to the grounds upon
which it is supported. When it is once fairly admitted
that the subject is miraculous, we gain a great step
towards the acknowledgment that the evidence is not
untrustworthy. Still it seems but honest to inform the
reader that we are now taking him off the firm basis of
historical certainty which we have latterly been tread-
ing, and launching him for the moment upon a more im-
palpable surface, where we do not say that his footing will
be less secure, but where he must expect to find less to
sustain it in the mere groundwork of the argument.
XXII.J HIS LATTER YEARS. 327
Ancient biographers of St. Augustine have related,
that before returning to his metropolitan see he passed
some time in the western counties of England, and espe-
cially in Dorsetshire. It is in his progress from the
north to the west that we suppose him to have conferred
with the British delegates on the Welsh frontier. The
accounts in question also represent St. Augustine's great
trial as having come about in the course of his western
expedition. His journey to the north was, as we have
already described it, more of the nature of a triumphant
progress than of a Christian mission ; though of the
spirit of mortification with which it was undertaken and
carried on we are not left in ignorance, from the fact of
the Archbishop himself having appeared everywhere on
foot, if not even, as some authorities seem to indicate,
barefoot. Still there is no record, nor even tradition, of
his reception in the north of England having been
otherwise than favourable, and even hearty. Very dif-
ferent from this are the accounts of his travels in Dor-
setshire. While there, we hear of his having come to
one village where he was received with every species of
insult. The wretched people, not content with heaping
abusive words upon the holy visitors, assailed them with
missiles, in which work, the place being probably a sea-
port, the sellers of fish are related to have been pecu-
liarly active. Hands, too, were laid upon the arch-
bishop and his company. Finding all efforts useless,
the godly band shook off the dust from their feet and
withdrew. The inhabitants are said to have suffered
the penalty of their impieties even to distant genera-
tions. All the children born from that time bore, and
transmitted, the traces of their parents' sin in the shape
of a loathsome deformity.
At another place the missionaries are said to have
238 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
encountered still worse usage. The people, from the
account, seem to have been devils in human shape.
They rejected the servants of God almost in the very
words in which the possessed of old repudiated the Holi-
est ; they said, almost in terms, " What have we to do
with you ? Depart from us, we know you not." They
spoke, so the report goes of being in league with the
author of death. Some took up sharp weapons, and flew
upon the defenceless missionaries ; others seized torches
with the view of setting fire to them. The Saint con-
tinued to preach ; whereupon, awe-struck, the murderers
paused, even as the emissaries of the high priest and
elders fell to the ground at the sight of the Blessed.
They paused, but only to renew their violence in an-
other shape. Now they shot out their arrows, even bit-
ter words. The godly admonitions of the preacher they
returned by blasphemous jeers. What could he do?
From preaching he turned to prayer, and besought Christ
to bring his adversaries to a better mind. No long time
passed before the whole population was attacked by a
dreadful and supernatural malady. Men and women, old
and young, were affected with burning cancerous ulcer-
ations of the whole body. The punishment was as uni-
versal as the sin. One cry of agony pervaded the town.
This visitation wrought blessed effects. It spoke for
itself, and it made itself heard. All hearts were turned
towards Augustine ; and he who was found to be among
them for judgment, was felt to be among them for mercy
as well. One after another they betook themselves to
the archbishop and entreated his forgiveness. In the
end multitudes both of men and women were baptized,
and in the same blessed laver wherein their sins were
washed away, the fire which raged throughout their
bodies was also extinguished.
XXII.] HIS LATTER YEARS. 239
Soon afterwards St. Augustine and his comrades left
the place ; and on coming to a retired spot, five miles
distant, where they seemed to be " in a barren and dry
land," where were no waters of refreshment, our Lord is
said to have communicated Himself to the Saint by
special revelation. At the same time, as if significant
of the gracious manifestation, a spring of water gushed
forth, and distributing itself into various rivulets, soon
converted the wilderness into a garden. St. Augustine
called the place Cernel, as one where he had been
vouchsafed a sight of God. 1 This spot was afterwards
the site of the monastery of Cerne, or Cerne-abbas,
in Dorsetshire. It is related that, at a subsequent time,
an abbot of Cernel, when at the point of death, received
a cure at the miraculous spring, by which St. Augus-
tine's great spiritual refreshment was commemorated,
that Saint himself appearing to stand by the abbot's side
1 Malmesbury's account is as follows : He says that St. Augustine
having converted Kent to the Christian Faith, travelled through the
rest of the English provinces as far as king Ethelbert's dominions
extended, which was through all England, except Northumberland ;
having arrived at Cernel, the inhabitants treated him and his com-
panions with great rudeness, fastened the tails of rays ("caudas
racharum") to their garments, and drove them to a considerable
distance from the place. The Saint, however, foresaw the change
which was likely to ensue, and cried to his companions " Cerno Deum
qui et nobis retribuit gratiam et furentibus illis emendatiorem infundet
animam." The people repented of what they had done, asked pardon
for their conduct, and requested his return. He, imputing this change
to the hand of God, gave to this place the name of Cernel, com-
pounded of the Hebrew word Hel 9 or El^ God, and the Latin cerno.
The conversion of the people followed, and when water was wanting
to baptize them, a spring broke out at his command. There are other
interpretations. Gocelin's account, which is followed in the text, is
somewhat different. The incident of the fishes' tails is by him con-
nected with the visit to a different place.
240 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
as the director of his steps, and the providential instru-
ment of blessing. 2
St. Augustine having at length perambulated the
whole extent of king Ethelbert's dominions, which com-
prised England south of Northumberland, with the ex-
ception of the extreme west, which was in the occupation
of the British, at length returned to his metropolitan
see, and there closed his days on earth. There is indeed
a tradition of his having visited Ireland at some period
of his life, and made his way to the court of king
Coloman, where, as the account proceeds, he preached
the Word of Life, and finally received into the Church
the king, queen, and principal persons of the court.
There, also, he is said to have made a convert of
Livinus, who was afterwards accounted a Saint in the
English Church. 3
We now return into the field of authentic history.
Soon after St. Augustine's re-establishment at Canter-
bury, Sebert, king of Essex, made overtures to king
Ethelbert, on the subject of embracing the Christian
Faith. Sebert, also called Seberct, or Sigebert, was the
nephew of king Ethelbert, his father having married
Bicula, sister of that prince. King Sebert's dominions
immediately joined those of his uncle, upon whom,
like all the other princes of the Heptarchy, he was
dependent.
2 In his way from Dorsetshire to Canterbury, St. Augustine is be-
lieved to have remained some time in the neighbourhood of Oxford.
In the Bodleian Library is a MS. of not later date than the thirteenth
century, containing a remarkable history of the Saint's interview at
Cumnor with a priest and layman of the neighbourhood, on the sub-
ject of tithes, with miraculous circumstances which followed upon it.
The story is also given in the Bollandist collection. It has been
thought best to print a fac simile of this MS. in an appendix.
3 Gocelin apud Mabillon, Acta S. 0. B.
XXII.] HIS LATER YEARS. 241
King Ethelbert laid his nephew's request before the
Archbishop, who answered it by sending to him Mellitus
and other preachers. Not content, however, with this
proof of interest, he soon repaired himself to the court
of king Sebert, and baptized him with his own hands.
The conversion of the king of Essex made an opening
for the consecration of St. Mellitus to the bishopric of
London. At the same time the foundation was laid of
the two great metropolitan churches of St. Paul's and
Westminster, concerning which it will fall to the bio-
grapher of St. Mellitus to speak at greater length. The
same year (according to St. Bede, 604,) St. Justus was
consecrated Bishop of Rochester, where king Ethelbert
built and richly endowed the cathedral church of St.
Andrew.
This year (604) died St. Gregory the First and Great.
For many years he had suffered from great weakness of
the chest and stomach, and was also afflicted with slow
fevers and frequent fits of the gout, which once confined
him to his bed two whole years. One of his last acts
was to give to the church of St. Paul several parcels of
land in order to furnish it with lights ; the act of dona-
tion is said to remain on record in the church to this
day. " God called him to Himself," writes the Rev.
Alban Butler, " on the 12th of March, about the sixty-
fourth year of his age, after he had governed the Church
thirteen years, six months, and ten days. His pallium,
the reliquary he wore round his neck, and his girdle were
preserved long after his death, when John the Deacon
wrote, who describes his picture drawn from the life, then
to be seen in the monastery of St. Andrew. His holy
remains rest in the Vatican church. Both the Greeks
and the Latins honour his name. The Council of Cliff
or Cloveshoe, under Archbishop Cuthbert, in 747, com-
R
242 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
manded his Feast to be observed in all the monasteries
in England, which the Council of Oxford, in 1222, ex-
tended to the whole kingdom. This law subsisted till
the change of religion/'
XXIII.] HIS DEATH. 243
CHAPTER XXIII.
ST. AUGUSTINE. HIS DEATH.
ST. AUGUSTINE did not long tarry behind his blessed
Father in the Faith. He fell asleep in Christ either
the same year with St. Gregory, or a year or two after-
wards. The last great work of his life was to consecrate
Laurence, one of his original companions, and one of the
two who were sent to Rome in quest of fresh mission-
aries, his successor in the See of Canterbury ; thus fol-
lowing the example of St. Peter, who, before his depar-
ture hence, made a like provision for the necessities of
the infant Church of Rome, by ordaining St. Clement
to succeed him. It is said that St. Augustine summoned
to his death-bed his great benefactor, king Ethelbert^
with the members of the royal family, the new Arch-
bishop, several of the clergy, and other persons, and
that he died with benedictions and exhortations on his
lips. "Pretiosa in conspectu Domini mors Sanctorum
Ejus ! " Oh, with what thrilling hope and bright foretastes
of blessedness does the Church accompany such a soul as
this in its passage to the fulness of joy ! What sweet-
ness and what power does the death of the just impart
to those words of comfort, which the Church denies not
to an ordinary faithful ! " May the bright company of
the angels meet thy soul as it leaves the body ; may
the conclave of the Apostles, who shall judge the world,
come to receive thee ; may the triumphal army of the
martyrs go forth to greet thee ; may the lilied band of
244 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
confessors, shining with glory, encompass thee ; may the
chorus of virgins hail thee with songs of joy and mayest
thou be held fast, deep in the blessings of peace, in the
bosom of the patriarchs. May Christ Jesus cast on thee
His mild and festive look, and, in the company of those
who stand near him, acknowledge thee as His own for
ever ! Let God arise, and let His enemies be scat-
tered ; let them also that hate Him flee before Him.
Like as the smoke vanisheth, so shalt Thou drive them
away ; and like as wax melteth at the fire, so let the
ungodly perish at the presence of God. But let the
righteous be glad and rejoice before God. . . . Let all the
legions of hell be confounded and put to shame, nor let
the ministers of Satan dare to oppose thy passage. May
Christ deliver thee from everlasting death, who deigned
to die for thee. May Christ, the Son of the Living
God, place thee in the midst of the ever-verdant gar-
dens of His Paradise, and may He, the true Shepherd,
acknowledge thee among His sheep. May He absolve
thee from all thy sins, and place thee at His own right
hand among the number of His elect. Mayest thou see
thy Redeemer face to face, and, standing for ever by
His side, mayest thou behold with happy eyes His Truth
in all its brightness. Mayest thou be ranged with the
multitudes of the blessed, and enjoy the sweetness of the
vision of God for ever and ever." 1
His body is buried in peace ; his name liveth for
evermore. Such is the portion of the blessed Saints in
the Church on earth, while their immortal spirit is
received at once into the courts above, to re-enter
its glorified tabernacle at the resurrection of the just.
The sacred ashes of St. Augustine were deposited in a
1 Ordo Commendationis Anirnae secundum Breviarium Romanum.
XXIII.] HIS DEATH. 245
grave as near as might be to the unfinished church of
St. Peter and St. Paul at Canterbury, waiting the
completion of the fabric. When the church was at
length capable of receiving them, they were removed
within the northern porch, which from that time be-
came the burying-place of all future archbishops of
Canterbury till the time of Theodore and Berthwald,
who were buried further within the church, the porch
being then full, The church of St. Peter and St. Paul,
which was an appendage to the monastery dedicated
under the same title, and afterwards St. Augustine's, was
completed, according to Thorn, in 613, in which year
the body of St. Augustine was interred in its portico.
In the midst of it, as St. Bede relates, was an altar
sacred to St. Gregory the Great, at which every Saturday
Mass was said in commemoration both of St. Gregory
and St. Augustine, by a priest specially chosen for that
office. At the Council of Cloveshoe, in 747, it was
directed that due honours should be paid to the days
both of St. Augustine's nativity and of his death.
His tomb bore the following simple inscription in
the days of St. Bede.
" Here resteth the Lord Augustine, first Archbishop
of Canterbury, who erewhile was sent hither by blessed
Gregory, Bishop of the City of Rome, and, being
helped by God to work miracles, drew over king Ethel-
bert and his race from the worship of idols to the Faith
of Christ. Having ended in peace the days of his
ministry, he departed hence seven days before the
kalends of June (May 26), in the reign of the same
king."
The remains of St. Augustine were afterwards, as we
have said, removed into the north porch of the cathedral
of Christ Church, which, in 759, received the body of
246 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
Archbishop Cuthbert, and continued to be the burying-
place of the archbishops of Canterbury till the change
of religion. On the 6th of September, 1091, Abbot
Wido translated the chief part of the relics into the
interior of the church, leaving the remainder in the
porch. Those which were translated lay for some time
in a strong urn under the east window. In 1221, the
head was put into a rich shrine ornamented with gold
and precious stones ; the rest of the bones lay in a
marble tomb, enriched with fine carvings and engrav-
ings, till the dissolution. 2 The history of the Transla-
tion has been written at length by Gocelin, the bio-
grapher of St. Augustine.
2 Rev. A. Butler.
XXIV.] POSTHUMOUS MIRACLES. 247
CHAPTER XXIV.
POSTHUMOUS MIRACLES. CONCLUSION.
ST. AUGUSTINE'S biographer, Gocelin, has left a book
on Miracles wrought since the death of the Saint
through the power of his relics or by the help of his
intercessions. The readers of these Lives have not
to be told now, for the first time, that the Church
Catholic has ever accounted a singular virtue to re-
side in the bodies of Saints, the temples of the Holy
Ghost, even after the spirit has left them to return to
God who gave it. Holy Scripture distinctly warrants
this comfortable belief; for if the bones of one of the
elder prophets were gifted with the power of conveying
life to the dead, 1 how much more should miraculous
virtue be expected to cleave to the relics of those blessed
shrines in which the Holy Ghost has dwelt in all the
largeness of measure which is promised under the Gos-
pel ! A wonderful and glorious truth is contained in
that promise, of which the Athanasian Creed is the
vehicle to the Church of all ages, " Omnes homines
resurgere habent cum corporibus suis." These very
bodies of ours, and not merely the souls which inhabit
them, are gifted -with immortality, the especial fruit, as
Catholic writers tell us, of participation in Christ
through the Sacrament of His most blessed Body and
Blood. But if a certain sanctity inhere in all the
1 2 Kings xiii. 21.
248 ST. AUGUSTINE. [OH.
bodies of the dead in Christ, as essentially the very same
with which they shall rise again at His Coming, what
shall be thought of the bodies of the Saints, which,
even in this life, have been purified as by fire from the
dross of corruption, and are the terrestrial correspond-
ents of souls now with Christ in Heaven 1 Often they
are related upon competent testimony to have been
miraculously preserved from decay ; Almighty God thus
giving a token to them that fear Him of the power by
which He will finally re-unite the scattered portions of
consecrated dust, so as to maintain the integrity of each
tabernacle which His Spirit has once pervaded.
Hence, not only the relics of the Saints, but the very
neighbourhoods of the spots where they rest, have ever
been looked upon as instinct with miraculous life. As
for the great Apostle of the English, almost more wonders
are related of him after his death than before it ; which,
should it prove to be a fact, would be quite in keeping
with all experience. For how commonly is it felt even
with respect to eminent Christians short of the Saints of
the Church, and with respect also to influences short of
what would be generally termed miraculous, that their
power upon the world almost dates from the termina-
tion of their visible connexion with it ! Death seems,
in a most mysterious way, the period of their birth into
life ; not merely their own true life, which was here
but hidden and interrupted, but even their life in this
world. Neither for themselves, nor even for others, do
they often seem to have lived to good purpose till the veil
of flesh has been withdrawn. Their name has a power
about it which their words and actions seemed to lack ;
and what is the posthumous virtue of the Saints, but an
exemplification of the same principle ?
These and the like considerations will prepare even
XXIV.] POSTHUMOUS MIRACLES. 249
the more sceptical to receive, at least with, attention
and reverence, the testimony of the biographer Gocelin
to the miracles wrought at the tomb, or through the
intercessions of St. Augustine. And when it is borne
in mind that he was not far from contemporary with
some of these events, and that his report of them
admitted of easy refutation, his testimony should not
seem untrustworthy even according to the ordinary
laws of historical evidence. Thus, as to the very first
of the miraculous stories which Gocelin relates, the
date of the transaction to which it belongs is 1011, and
Gocelin lived at the end of the same century. His
account of it, too, was put forth at Canterbury, on the
very spot where the miracle is said to have happened.
The story is narrated by Thorn, who was Abbot of St.
Augustine's, and will be found at pp. 1378 of the
present biography.
Gocelin likewise recounts the following, among other
miracles, as having taken place at the tomb of St. Au-
gustine of Canterbury, or under the immediate power of
his patronage.
A Saxon, named Leodegarius, had been afflicted from
his birth with dreadful contractions of the joints of his
body, so as almost to resemble a monster rather than a
human being. He is said to have passed many years of
his life in moving, or rather creeping, from place to
place, for, in truth, he wore the appearance of a reptile.
He was a native of Germany, whence he had found his
way to Eome, in hopes of benefiting by the prayers of
some Saint. At length he came to England, and, one
day, while watching during the night in the Abbey
of St. Peter, at Westminster, he felt himself moved,
by a Divine intimation, to seek help in the city of
Canterbury.
250 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
The next morning found him on his way to the
metropolitan city, which he is said to have reached,
by taking ship at Greenwich, where, it seems, vessels
were stationed for conveying the poor at the public
charge. 2 On arriving at Canterbury, a pious matron took
pity on him, and provided him with board and lodging
for the night. The next day, under her guidance, he
repaired to the cathedral, and there, through the interven-
tion of his charitable hostess, was admitted within the
sanctuary, or precincts of the high altar. In this place
he spent three nights in prayer. On the fourth morning
he met with the reward of his perseverance. There
appeared to him (as he related) three venerable figures,
of patriarchal aspect and mien, bright as angels. The
central figure was much taller than the others. His hair
was white as snow, and seemed to take the form of a
cross upon his ample forehead ; his eyes beamed with
sweetness, and his whole countenance was radiant and
smiling. A priestly robe covered his person, so gorge-
ous that it seemed to rival the glory of Solomon, and it
was confined at the waste by a clasp of gold. In his
hand was a cross of great size and dazzling brilliancy.
His companion on the right was of middle stature, with
eyes of remarkable brightness, and a forehead like snow.
On his left was one of dwarfish size, as is recorded of
him who desired to receive Christ into his house ; 3 but
his form was one of perfect symmetry and exquisite
beauty. One and all were attired in vestments so rich
and magnificent, that earth till then had never seen the
like. The three strangers were observed to make for the
spot where the poor cripple, with his limbs gathered up,
was lying on the pavement. His infirmity was of such a
2 Navis Eleemosynaria. 3 Luke xix. 3.
XXIV.] POSTHUMOUS MIRACLES. 251
kind as to render variety of posture impracticable ; stand-
ing, sitting, lying, and kneeling, were all alike to him.
On reaching him the strangers suddenly paused. The
poor helpless creature gazed on them with an awe
which came near to terror. At length the central priest
beckoned to his companion on the left, to signify to
the cripple that they came as ministers of mercy. He
approached him and said, it was blessed Augustine who
had come to heal him. Hardly had the name of Augus-
tine passed his lips when the other seemed to hear God
speaking to him, and addressing himself to the chief
visitor, " It is you," he said, " most clement father, whom
I seek ; you, of all the Saints, a Divine voice has told it
me, are to be my deliverer/' Thereupon St. Augustine
deputed his two companions to exercise the gift of
healing, and they proceeded to lift him up, the one
applying the hand of power to the upper part of his
body, the other implanting strength in his knees and
ancle-bones. The cure is described as more painful than
the malady. While it was in progress (for it was not in-
stantaneous) the poor man, as we read, cried out lustily
for mercy. At length his body, which had been a mass
of disease and deformity, assumed its natural shape, and
the three wonderful benefactors disappeared in the di-
rection of their several tombs. Meanwhile, the sacris-
tan and keepers of the church, who had been aroused
from their sleep by cries of distress proceeding from the
sanctuary, had repaired to the spot, where to their as-
tonishment they found the poor man, whose hapless con-
dition they had commiserated the day before, in the
full possession of health and activity. He related to them
the circumstances of his visit to Canterbury, and of
his interview with the wonderful strangers ; and learned
that the three shrines from which they had appeared to
252 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
issue, and among which his eyes had afterwards lost
them, were those of St. Augustine and his two com-
panions, St. Laurence, and St. Mellitus. These, then,
were the strangers on right and left.
A great number of the miraculous narratives of which
St. Augustine of Canterbury is the subject, have their
scene on the wide ocean. In these civilized times when
the art of navigation is in so advanced a state that a
long sea voyage is hardly more dangerous and anxious
than a journey on land, we can form no idea of the
light in which even a passage across the British Channel
would be regarded in the middle ages by any but those
who had been trained to a seafaring life from their in-
fancy. Even now it is commonly said that there is a
wonderful power about a sea life in making men reli-
gious, or in keeping them so, especially in the case of
those who have experience of it in its rougher shapes.
Who has not heard of the " superstitions" of sailors ?
Who that has visited Catholic countries abroad, has not
observed, in sea-port towns, the Christian counterpart of
the " votiva tabella" of Horace, in the ships and other
specimens of nautical ingenuity hung up in churches as a
perennial memento of deliverance, an offering in honour
of that blessed one, whom the Catholic mariner delights
to hymn as the mild and auspicious " Star of ocean ;" 4
and in our own England too, although the larger sea-
port towns are, for want of some powerful religious
check, for the most part, it is to be feared, very dens of
iniquity, yet the case is said to be much otherwise in
the little fishing-towns scattered along the coast, at a
distance from the metropolis, the male portion of the
population of which are for weeks out at sea, in open
a " Ave maris Stella," &c.
XXIV.] POSTHUMOUS MIRACLES. 253
boats, at the constant risk of their lives. In many
of these places the men are said to be, as a body, so
naturally religious that it is rather the attempt to eradi-
cate, than to implant, devout impressions which is apt
to fail of success. " They that go down to the sea in
ships and occupy their business in great waters ; these
men see the works of the Lord and His wonders in the
deep. " 5 The changeful ocean and the tranquil sky are,
to simple and affectionate hearts, better than many
sermons. "Mirabiles elationes maris, mirabilis in altis
Dominus." 6 And very deeply plunged in the mire of sin
must that soul be, which the astonishing " providences "
of a sea life do not arouse from its torpor, and lift up,
though but for a moment, to Heaven.
It should not then be difficult for any one to enter
into the wonderful religious experiences, of which, seven
centuries ago, the sea was continually felt to be the
place, and its incidents the medium. Many a hair-
breadth escape and unlooked-for intervention which,
even in these days, would go by the name of a provi-
dence, was then referred directly to the class of miracles.
Indeed there is a kind of miracle for which the word
" providence " is but a synonyme, convenient for the
purposes of reserve ; and it will be readily understood
that wherever the doctrine of the Communion of Saints
is vividly realized, and their patronage regarded as an
effectual help, signal deliverances will come to be viewed
as the fruit of direct interpositions.
Among those with which the name of St Augustine
of Canterbury was connected, a foremost place is given
by Gocelin to the wonderful preservation of king
Canute from perils of the sea, on his return from his
5 Ps. cvii. 23, 24, &c. 6 Ps. xcii. G. (Vulg.)
254 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
great pilgrimage to Rome. A terrible storm is said to
have overtaken him when he was just within sight of
the English shore. He betook himself to St. Augustine,
whose favour he had experienced throughout his travels,
and vowed large gifts to his shrine. Soon after, the
storm ceased, and the vessel got safe to shore.
A somewhat similar intervention was vouchsafed in
the case of Egelvius, abbot of Ethelingey, who had
also been to Rome to pay his devotions at the tomb of
the Apostles. On his return home, he and his com-
panions were detained six full weeks by contrary winds,
during which time their money was all expended in the
purchase of necessaries, and they were obliged to sell
their horses and apparel. At length one of the party,
a monk, named Withgar, of age and prudence, encour-
aged the Abbot to look for help from the guardianship
and intercessions of his island Saints, and besought him
to implore their good offices. The Abbot complied, and
chiefly betook himself to St. Augustine, who held a
first place among the holy patrons of England, vowing
that should he ever again be granted a sight of his loved
abbey, he would erect from the foundation a tower to
the honour of God, under his tutelage. Then falling
asleep, there appeared to him a ship rapidly approach-
ing him, in which was one of priestly dignity and
heavenly beauty, clad in shining vestments, who waved
his hand to the home-sick pilgrims as if inviting them
to him. Then the Abbot awoke, and while he was
relating the vision to his companion, the pilot rushed
in full of joy, with the tidings that a favourable breeze
had sprung up, and that no time was to be lost. The
ship reached England in safety. The Abbot, upon his
arrival, repaired to Canterbury, where the hospitable
successor of our Saint received him with open arms,
XXIV.] POSTHUMOUS MIEACLES. 255
and like a worthy steward of the bounty of such a father,
set himself to make good the losses of his guest.
The good Abbot was faithful to his vow, and laid the
foundation of his tower. He obtained, not without
difficulty, six great beams ; the seventh, long refused,
was at last given for love of the Saint. When they
came to measure it, it was found half a yard too short ;
and the Abbot, not without hope that the Saint might
once more grant him his aid, measured it again, and
found it now as much too long as it had been before too
short. His workman was about to make it the right
length ; but this the Abbot would by no means allow, as
esteeming it a disrespect to the Saint's overflowing
bounty, of which he decided that the tower should
remain a monument to future generations. The biogra-
pher adds that it was standing in his time.
One more history shall be related under the same
head. Elfnoth, a member of one of the principal
families in London, had been brought up from his
childhood in St. Augustine's under the care of Abbot
Ulfric. He had been staying in Normandy with Duke
William, and was on his return to England, when,
midway across the Channel, a storm arose. The ship
was wrecked, and all perished, with the single excep-
tion of young Elfnoth, who ceased not to call on his
holy father for help ; when, at length descrying a
broken mast in the water, he threw himself upon it and
there remained, the sport of the waves. His faith was
tried for two whole days and nights ; the third morning
dawned in serenity, and he was rescued from death by a
friendly vessel from the Norman coast.
Grocelin also speaks of certain monks of St. Augustine's,
contemporaries of his own, and alive when he wrote,
who had made the following statement upon their oaths.
256 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
On a certain year, about Pentecost, they were on their
way from Constantinople to Venice, and had on board
150 men, many of them learned clergy and laymen,
besides a number of others. The wind rose, and became
so strong as to endanger a vessel thus heavily laden.
They took in their sails, and, availing themselves of
the first anchorage they found, remained for several
days exposed to the violent beating of the waves. It so
happened, in the year in question, that the festival of
St. Augustine fell during Whitsuntide, and various
were the feelings under which the holy brethren looked
forward to its near approach at so trying and anxious
a time. On the one hand, it was a grief to them that
they must celebrate it to such disadvantage j on the
other, they could not but esteem it providential that a
season so full of promise should befal at such a moment.
It happened that on board were several Greeks as well as
Italians, and it was a great delight to the holy brethren
to spend the mean season in recounting to them the
history of the Saint whose day was coming on. They
told how the illustrious Gregory, Augustine's spiritual
father, had been connected with those very parts, having
lived fox* some time at Constantinople in the capacity of
nuntio of the Apostolic See ; and how, out of his great
charity to the English nation, he had sent this Augustine
to preach Christ among them. With such delightful con-
verse did they beguile the weary time ; and at length
the whole party on board were wrought into a kind of
enthusiasm at the prospect of honouring God in Augus-
tine, spiritual child of Gregory, and apostle of the
English nation. They added, that among all the Saint?
of their own country, there was not one so powerful in
his intercession, so large in his munificence, as blessed
Augustine ; neither did they doubt that, should the
XXIV.] POSTHUMOUS MIKACLES. 257
crew join in commemorating him with a holy unani-
mity, some mighty deliverance might be expected to
follow. The next Sunday was the day of his festival,
and whatever outward accompaniments of ceremonial
splendour there lacked, were more than supplied by the
overflowing joy of the heart. The Vespers of the Saint
were chanted by the numerous body of priests and
clerics, all the crew assisting at the service, and then
the night was spent in watching, with prayer and praise.
But the narrative must be continued in the glowing
words of the biographer. "The ship was our church,
its mast the watch-tower of Sion ; the sail-yard our
cross, the sails our drapery, the prow our altar, the
priest, boatswain, the arch-priest, pilot, the rowers
clerics ; the creaking cables our instruments of music,
the whistlings of the wind our bellows and pipes.
Around us were the spacious courts of ocean, and the
countless multitude of the waves responded to the voice
of the chanters by their incessant dashings. The church
of the waters resounded with the note, ' ye seas and
floods, bless ye the Lord, bless Him ye whales and all
that move in the waters/ and the waters joined in the
response with the quires above \ all sang of Christ in
high solemnity, and of Augustine, servant of Christ."
Lauds were chanted towards daybreak, and then all
retired to rest except the helmsman. He remained ob-
serving the stars, and trying the wind. On a sudden it
came home to him that St. Augustine's agency had
been blessed. The violent wind subsided into the soft-
est of breezes, and that a favourable one. He blew his
whistle and shouted aloud, and for a moment the sleep-
ers doubted whether all were not over. But a moment
after they were greeted with the joyful words ; " Up,
comrades ; God is with us ;" and the pilot continued, " It
258 ST. AUGUSTINE. [CH.
is St. Augustine, whose Feast we are keeping; he is
helmsman, boatswain, master, and all." All were speedily
on the alert, and Mass was sung in high jubilee.
Gocelin relates many other histories of the same de-
scription. One more only shall be selected. In the
village of Chilham, not far from Canterbury, was a little
girl, eight years of age, the hope and comfort of a
widowed mother. She was the life and spirit of her
home ; but some sad chance befel her, by which she
lost the power of speech. Her mother, instead of having
recourse to a^human physician, took her to the parish
priest, by name Elfelm, who addressed her as follows :
" The Feast of St. Augustine is at hand ; go then and
prepare a waxen taper, and with it watch out the vigil
of that day, whereon the Day-spring from on high first
visited us ; and let your child be the companion of your
prayers. If you will but persevere in faith, we verily
believe that, through God's goodness, you will not be
disappointed. The devout matron, armed with faith,
and as at the bidding of an angel, is ready with the
light on the appointed day, and repairs with her child
to the shrine of her heavenly physician, where both
keep vigil in prayer before the health-giving pledges of
the Saint. The mother prays and utters her plaints
aloud ; the daughter can but sigh and vent her devotion
and her grief in low inarticulate sounds : but the ears
of the Saint are open to both. Now swell on high, at
the close of matins, the solemn words of the hymn to
the Thrice-Holy, the Abbot entoning the first notes, and
his children of the monastery taking up the strain in
chorus. When they came to the words, < The Holy
Church throughout all the world doth acknowledge
Thee,' the tongue of the damsel was suddenly loosened,
and she was able to bear her part in the chorus of the
XXIV.] CONCLUSION. 259
Universal Church. Matins and Lauds being ended, the
whole company repeated Te Deum as an act of praise to
God for the mercies whereof all had just been wit-
nesses.
And now what remains but humbly to trust that our
Lord will turn a pitying eye on our much-loved Eng-
land, and hear the prayers of her patrons and benefac-
tors in her behalf, that her children may once more
" look unto the Kock whence they were hewn, and to
the hole of the pit whence they were digged ? " 1 ..."
Lord, to us belongeth confusion of face, to our kings, to
our princes, and to our fathers, because we have sinned
against Thee....O Lord, according to all Thy righteous-
ness, we beseech Thee, let Thine anger and Thy fury be
turned away from Thy city Jerusalem, Thy holy moun-
tain : because for our sins and for the iniquities of our
fathers, Jerusalem and Thy people are become a re-
proach to all that are about us. Now therefore, our
God, hear the prayer of Thy servant and his supplica-
tions, and cause Thy face to shine upon Thy sanctuary
that is desolate, for the Lord's sake. my God, incline
Thine ear and hear j open thine eyes, and behold our
desolations, and the city that is called by Thy name ;
for we do not present our supplications before Thee for
our righteousness, but for Thy great mercies. Lord,
hear ; Lord, forgive ; Lord, hearken and do ; de-
fer not, for Thine own sake,... for Thy city and Thy
people are called by Thy name."
" God, Thou hast cast us out, and scattered us
abroad : Thou hast also been displeased ; turn Thee
1 Isaiah li. 1.
260 ST. AUGUSTINE.
unto us again. ...Thou hast moved the land and divided
it : heal the sores thereof, for it shaketh. Thou hast
shewed Thy people heavy things ; Thou hast given us a
drink of deadly wine."
" remember not our old sins, but have mercy upon
us, and that soon, for we are come to great misery.
Help us, God of our salvation, for the glory of Thy
name : deliver us for Thy name's sake. Wherefore
do the heathen say, Where is now their God 1 . . . let
the sorrowful sighing of the prisoners come before Thee ;
according to the greatness of Thy power preserve Thou
those that are appointed to die.... So we that are Thy
people, and the sheep of Thy pasture, shall give Thee
thanks for ever ; and will alway be shewing forth
Thy praise from generation to generation." 2 Amen.
2 Dan. ix. ; Ps. lx., Ixxix.
APPENDIX.
[The following account of the MS., of which a fac-
simile is printed below, is given by a learned Member
of the University of Oxford.]
The MS. in the Bodleian (from the library of Ke-
nelm Digby) is of the thirteenth century, and early in
it. The story is quoted from a Life of St. Augustine.
I have collated the first with the copy in the Life of St.
Thomas of Canterbury, which is a later MS. The two
are not, I think, copies of the same individual MS., but
they are from the same general text. However, the
original must be older than the older one of the two.
There is another copy in the Library of University
College.
E CODICE K. DIGB^I 149.
IN VITA BEATI AUGUSTINI ANGLORUM APOSTOLI DE
EXCOMMUNICATIONE PEO DECIMIS.
Est vicus in agro Oxfordensi vi. miliariis distans a
loco hac tempestate celebri qui dicitur Wodestoke Cu-
metoria nomine. Igitur cum beatus Augustinus Divini
Verbi semina ex more gentibus erogando pervenisset,
accessit ad eum ejusdem villse presbyter, dicens; Re-
verende pater et domine suggero sanctitati tuae quod
hujus fundi dominus multimoda a me exhortatione
commonitus, nullatenus adquiescit, ut sanctse Dei ec-
clesise ex hiis quoe superna ei confert largitas decimas
262 ST. AUGUSTINE.
velit persolvere, et excommunicationis insuper senten-
tiam sepissime in eum jacula[ri] comminatus, eo
amplius rebellem et obstinatum reperi. Provideat
ergo sanctitas vestra quid inde facturum sit. Quod
audiens Sanctus Augustinus precepit militem accersiri
ante se. Cui et clixit. Quid hoc fili quod audio de
te ? Cur decimas tuas Deo omnium bonorum largitori
et sancte ecclesie reddere recusas? An ignoras quia
decimae non tue sed Dei sunt ? Prompto ergo et libenti
animo et cum gratiarum actione Deo omnipotent! debi-
tum persolve, ne anno sequenti unde tribuas pro obsti-
natione tua severa districti judicis tibi subtrahat sen-
tentia. Ad hoc miles iracundie stimulis agitatus viro
Dei respondit. Quis inquit domine terram excoluit?
Quis semen ad serendum praestitit ? vel fruges jam ad
maturitatem perventas metere fecit 1 ? Nonne ego?
Hoc igitur noverint omnes, quia ejus erit decimus ma-
nipulus cujus erunt et novem. Cui Sanctus Aug 8 .
Noli inquit fili ita loqui, non enim ignorare te volo
quod si fidelium consuetudinem sanctorum patrum tra-
ditionem decimas tuas dare recusaveris, absque dubio
excommunicabo te. Et hiis dictis conversus ad men-
sam Dominicam ut misteria divina celebraret, coram
omni populo clara voce dixit, Ex parte Dei praecipio
ne aliquis excommunicatus missarum solempniis [al.
solemniis] interesse praesumat. Quod cum dixisset,
res miranda et retro acta et [al. retroactis] inaudita
seculis contigit. Nam in ipso introitu ecclesie cadaver
sepultum se erigens atque cimiterium egrediens ibidem
stabat immobile quamdiu sanctus vir missarum solemp-
nia celebrabat. Quibus expletis fideles qui ibi prae-
sentes erant fere extra se positi venerunt ad beatum
pontificem et rem gestam trementes ex ordine pan-
dunt. Quibus ait, Nolite pavere, sed prsecedat nos cum
APPENDIX. 263
aqua a nobis consecrata crucis Dominicse vexillum, et
videamus quid hoc sit quod nobis ostensum est. Pre-
cedens autem pius pastor oves Christi pavefactas per-
venit cum eis ad ingressum cimiterii, vidensque cada-
ver tetrum et deforme sic inquit, Precipio tibi in no-
mine Domini quatenus indices mini quis sis, ut [al.
vel] cur ad illudendum populum Christi hue veneris.
Cui respondit, Non ad terrorem huic populo incutien-
dum, vel ut eis illuderem sanctissime pater Augustine
hue veni ; sed cum ex parte Dei juberes ne aliquis ex-
communicatus missarum solempniis interesset, angeli
Domini qui itineris tui assidue comites assistunt ejece-
runt me de loco ubi positus fueram sepultus, dicentes,
quod amicus Dei Augustinus carnes fetentes de eccle-
siajussisset proici. Ego enim tempore Britonum, an-
tequam gentilium Anglorum furor hanc vastasset re-
gionem, hujus ville patronus fui, etiam licet sepius
ab hujus ecclesie presbitero commonitus fueram, tamen
dare decimas meas nunquam consensi. Ad ultimum
vero excommunicationis ab eo mulctatus sententia me
miserum inter hoc de medio sublatus sum et quia in
eis nullus resistere potuit in loco de quo surrexi intra
ecclesiam sepultus., animam ad claustra infernalia ge-
hennalibus jugiter cruciendam incendiis emisi. Tune
flentibus omnibus qui aderant et hoc audierant ipse
sanctus lacrimis faciem ubertim irrorans crebrisque
singultibus dolorem cordis ostendens, Scis inquit
locum ubi sepultus fuit presbiter qui te excommuni-
cavif? Quo respondente quod bene sciret, et quod in
eodem cimiterio monumentum haberet, dixit archie-
piscopus, Precede ergo nos et nobis locum demonstra.
Precessit igitur defunctus veniensque ad locum quen-
dam prope ecclesiam ubi omnino nullum adhuc sig-
num alicujus sepulture apparebat, sequente se Au-
264 ST. AUGUSTINE.
gustino populoque universe clara voce dixit, Ecce
locus, hie si placet fodite et presbiteri de quo me inter-
rogatis ossa poteritis invenire. Ex jussu ergo ponti-
ficis ceperunt quidam fodere, et tandem in alto defos-
so loco pauca invenerunt ossa et ipsa proe temporis diu-
turnitate in viriditatem conversa. Sciscitante autem
Dei servo si hgec essent presbiteri ossa, respondit de-
functus, Etiam dornine. Tune Sanctus Augustinus
fusa diutius oratione dixit, Ut cognoscant omnes quia
mors et vita in manibus Dei sunt cui nichil est impos-
sibile in ejus nomine dico Frater surge opus enim te
habemus. Res stupenda, et humanis auribus inaudita,
ad jussionem enim alinissimi prsesulis videbant omnes
qui aderant pulverem pulveri uniri et ossa nervis com-
paginari, ac sic demum humanum corpus de sepulcro
amotum erigi. Cumque ante beatum virum staret, Cog-
noscis, inquit, istum frater 1 Qui respondit, Novi pater,
et utinam non nossem. Et adjecit almificus pnesul,
Tu eum anathemate ligasti ? Ligavi, ait, et digne pro
meritis. In omnibus enim sanctas ecclesie semper re-
bellis extitit decimarum retentor, multorum insuper
flagitiorum usque ad diem ultirnum patrator. Tune vir
Dei Augustinus altius ingemiscens, Nosti, inquit, frater,
quia miserationes Dei super omnia opera ejus. Unde et
nos inisereri simul et compati oportet creaturoe et ima-
gini Dei, que ejus pretioso redempta sanguine tarn
longo jam tempore tenebroso reclusa in carcere penas
sustinuit gehennales. Tune tradidit ei flagellum, et
flexis ante ilium genibus absolutione flebiliter petita,
mortuus mortuum magno gratie Dei dono ad declaran-
dum servi Augustini merita relaxavit. Quo absolute
prsBcepit sanctus pater noster ut sepulcrum rediens in
pace diem proestolaretur ultimum. Qui statim ad locum
unde surrexisse visus est reversus mausoleum intravit,
APPENDIX. 265
in cinereamque pulverem protinus est resolutus. Tune
ait presbitero sanctus. Quantum tempus est ex quo
hie jacuisti ? Qui respondit c. 1. [centum quinquaginta
anni] et eo amplius sunt. Quomodo, inquit, hue usque
fuisti ? Bene ait in gaudio Domini mei coristitutus,
eterne vite deliciis interfui, Visne ait ut communem pro
te exorem Dominum quatenus ad nos iterum revertaris,
simulque animas diabolica fraude deceptas evangelii
nobiscum verba serendo ad suum Creatorem reducas ?
Absitj inquit, a te venerabilis pater ne me a quiete mea
perturbatum ad seculi laboriosam simulque erumpnosam
reverti facias vitam. magna et plena de Dei miseri-
cordia prsesumptio. gloriosa praecellentissimi cordis
conscientia que Deum ita potentem et misericordem et
de Deo tantum promeruisse non dubitavit ut tarn mag-
nificum tamque stupendum pro eo facere dignaretur mi-
raculum. Hoc forte illi videbitur incredibile qui Deo
aliquid esse impossibile credit. Sed tamen nulli du-
bium est quod nunquam Anglorum dure cervices Christi
jugo subjici nisi per magna consenserunt miracula.
Porro Sanctus Augustinus, presbitero non consentiente
hujus vite vias iterum ingredi, dixit, Vade karissime
frater, et per longa annorum tempora quiesce in pace.
Simulque ora pro me et pro universa sancta Dei ec-
clesia. Qui statim sepulcrum intrans favilla et cinis
eifectus est. Tune accersivit ad se militem sanctus
episcopus cui et dixit, Quid est fili. Adhuc decimas
tuas Deo reddere consentis ? An adhuc in obstinacia
tua perdurare disponis ? Tremefactus autem miles pro-
cidit ad pedes ejus flens et ejulans, et reatum suum con-
fitens et veniam petens. Relictisque omnibus komam
disposuit. Beatum Augustinum omnibus diebus vite
sue tanquam salutis sue auctorem secutus in omnibus ;
mentis et corporis puritate consummatus diem clausit
266 ST. AUGUSTINE.
ultinmm, et eterne felicitatis gaudia sine fine victurus
intravit. Quod nobis prrestare dignetur IHS EPS
Dominus noster Qui cum Pfe et Spu Sancto vivit et
regnat Deus in secula seculorum, Amen.
THE END.
LONDON I
Printed by S. & J. BENTLEY, WILSON, and FLEY,
Eanfor House, Shoe Lane.
LIYES
THE ENGLISH SAINTS.
3%t rmtt faints.
ST. GUNDLEUS. ST. EDELWALD.
ST. HELIER. ST. BETTELIN.
ST. HERBERT. ST. NEOT.
ST. BARTHOLOMEW.
MANSUETI HJEREDITABUNT TERRAM, ET DELECTABUNTUR IN
MULTITUD1NE PACIS.
LONDON:
JAMES TOOVEY, 36, ST. JAMES'S STREET.
1844.
ADVERTISEMENT.
The following Lives are the work of several
persons who have written independently of
each other, though their views will be found
to be coincident on some important and diffi-
cult points which are brought into discussion
in the course of the narrative. The Legend
of St. Bettelin belongs to more than one
author.
Holy Thursday, 1844.
A LEGEND OF
HERMIT IN WALES, ABOUT A. D. 500.
THE Christian lives in the past and in the future, and
in the unseen ; in a word, he lives in no small measure
in the unknown. And it is one of his duties, and a part
of his work, to make the unknown known ; to create
within him an image of what is absent, and to realize
by faith what he does not see. For this purpose he is
granted certain outlines and rudiments of the truth,
and from thence he learns to draw it out into its full
proportions and its substantial form, to expand and
complete it ; whether it be the absolute and perfect
truth, or truth under a human dress, or truth in such
a shape as is most profitable for him. And the pro-
cess, by which the word which has been given him,
" returns not void," but brings forth and buds and is
accomplished and prospers, is Meditation.
It is Meditation 1 which does for the Christian what
Investigation does for the children of men. Investiga-
tion may not be in his power, but he may always
1 Some excellent remarks on this subject will be found in the
Introduction to a work which has appeared since these pages
were sent to press, " Life of Christ, from the Latin of St.
Bonaventura."
2 ST. GUNDLEUS,
meditate. For Investigation he may possess no mate-
rials or instruments ; he needs but little aid or appliance
from without for Meditation. The barley loaves and
few small fishes are made to grow under his hand ; the
oil fills vessel after vessel till not an empty one remains ;
the water -pots become the wells of a costly liquor ; and
the very stones of the desert germinate and yield him
bread. He trades with his Lord's money as a good
steward ; that in the end his Lord may receive His
own with usury.
This is the way of the divinely illuminated mind,
whether in matters of sacred doctrine or of sacred
history. Here we are concerned with the latter. I
say then, when a true and loyal lover of the brethren
attempts to contemplate persons and events of time
past, and to bring them before him as actually existing
and occurring, it is plain, he is at loss about the details ;
he has no information about those innumerable acci-
dental points, which might have been or have happened
this way or that way, but in the very person and the
very event did happen one way, which were altogether
uncertain beforehand, but which have been rigidly
determined ever since. The scene, the parties, tin 1
speeches, the grouping, the succession of particulars,
the beginning, the ending, matters such as these lie is
obliged to imagine in one way, if he is to imagine them
at all. The case is the same in the art of painting ;
the artist gives stature, gesture, feature, expression, to
his figures ; what sort of an abstraction or a nonentity
would he produce without this allowance ? it would he
like telling him to paint a dream, or relations and quali-
ties, or panic terrors, or scents and sounds, if you con-
fine him to truth in the mere letter ; or he must evade
the difficulty, with the village artist in the story, who
HERMIT IN WALES. 3
having to represent the overthrow of the Egyptians
in the sea, on their pursuing the Israelites, daubed a
board with red paint, with a nota bene that the Is-
raelites had got safe to land, and the Egyptians were all
drowned. Of necessity then does the painter allow
his imagination to assist his facts ; of necessity and
with full right ; and he will make use of this indul-
gence well or ill, according to his talents, his know-
ledge, his skill, his ethical pecularities, his general
cultivation of mind.
In like manner, if we would meditate on any passage
of the gospel history, we must insert details indefinitely
many, in order to meditate at all ; we must fancy mo-
tives, feelings, meanings, words, acts, as our connecting
links between fact and fact as recorded. Hence holy
men have before now put dialogues into the mouths of
sacred persons, not wishing to intrude into things un-
known, not thinking to deceive others into a belief of their
own mental creations, but to impress upon themselves
and upon their brethren, as by a seal or mark, the sub-
stantiveness and reality of what Scripture has adum-
brated by one or two bold and severe lines. Ideas are
one and simple ; but they gain an entrance into our
minds, and live within us, by being broken into detail.
Hence it is, that so much has been said and believed
of a number of Saints with so little historical founda-
tion. It is not that we may lawfully despise or refuse
a great gift and benefit, historical testimony, and the
intellectual exercises which attend on it, study, re-
search, and criticism ; for in the hands of serious and
believing men they are of the highest value. We do
not refuse them, but in the cases in question, we have
them not, The bulk of Christians have them not ;
the multitude has them not ; the multitude forms its
4 ST. GUNDLEUS,
view of the past, not from antiquities, not critically,
not in the letter ; but it developes its small portion of
true knowledge into something which is like the very
truth though it be not it, and which stands for the
truth when it is but like it. Its evidence is a legend ;
its facts are a symbol ; its history a representation ;
its drift is a moral.
Thus then is it with the biographies and reminis-
cences of the Saints. " Some there are which have no
memorial, and are as though they had never been ;"
others are known to have lived and died, and are known
in little else. They have left a name, but they have left
nothing besides. Or the place of their birth, or of
their abode, or of their death, or some one or other
striking incident of their life, gives a character to their
memory. Or they are known by martyrologies or ser-
vices, or by the traditions of a neighbourhood, or by the
title or the decorations of a Church. Or they are
known by certain miraculous interpositions which are
attributed to them. Or their deeds and suiferings be-
long to countries far away, and the report of them comes
musical and low over the broad sea. Such are some
of the small elements, which, when more is not known,
faith is fain to receive, love dwells on, meditation un-
folds, disposes, and forms ; till by the sympathy of many
minds, and the concert of many voices, and the lapse of
many years, a certain whole figure is developed with
words and actions, a history and a character, which is
indeed but the portrait of the original, yet is as much
as a portrait, an imitation rather than a copy, a likeness
on the whole, but in its particulars more or less the
work of imagination. It is but collateral and parallel
to the truth ; it is the truth under assumed conditions ;
it brings out a true idea, yet by inaccurate or defec-
HERMIT IN WALES.
tive means of exhibition ; it savours of the age, yet it
is the offspring from what is spiritual and everlasting.
It is the picture of a saint, who did other miracles,
if not these ; who went through sufferings, who
wrought righteousness, who died in faith and peace,
of this we are sure ; we are not sure, should it so
happen, of the when, the where, the how, the why,
and the whence.
Who, for instance, can reasonably find fault with the
Acts of St. Andrew, even though they be not authentic,
for describing the Apostle as saying on sight of his
cross, " Receive, O Cross, the disciple of Him who
once hung on thee, my Master Christ ?" For was not
the Saint sure to make an exclamation at the sight,
and must it not have been in substance such as this ?
And would much difference be found between his very
words when translated, and these imagined words, if
they be such, drawn from what is probable, and received
upon rumours issuing from the time and place ? And
when St. Agnes was brought into that horrible house of
devils, are we not quite sure that angels were with her,
even though we do not know any one of the details ?
What is there wanton then or superstitious in singing
the Antiphon, " Agnes entered the place of shame, and
found the Lord's angel waiting for her," even though
the fact come to us on no authority ? And again, what
matters it though the angel that accompanies us on our
way be not called Raphael, if there be such a protect-
ing spirit, who at God's bidding does not despise the
least of Christ's flock in their journeyings ? And what
is it to me though heretics have mixed the true history
of St. George with their own fables or impieties, if a
Christian George, Saint and Martyr there was, as we
believe ?
ST. GUXDLEUS,
And we in after time, who look back upon the le-
gendary picture, cannot for very caution's sake and
reverence, reject the whole, part of which, we know
not how much, may be, or certainly is, true. Nor have
we means to separate ascertained fact from fiction ; the
one and the other are worked in together. We can do
nothing else but accept what has come down to us as
symbolical of the unknown, and use it in a religious
way for religious uses. At the best it is the true record
of a divine life ; but at the very worst it is not less
than the pious thoughts of religious minds, thoughts
frequent, recurrent, habitual, of minds many in many
generations.
The brief notice of St. Gundleus, which is now to
follow, is an illustration of some of these remarks. It
will be but legendary ; it would be better, were it not
so ; but in fact, nothing remains on record except such
tokens and symbols of the plain truth, in honour of
one whose name has continued in the Church, and to
the glory of Him who wrote it in her catalogue.
St. Gundleus was a king or chieftain, whose territory
lay in Glamorganshire, and he lived about A. D. 500.
He was the father of the great St. Cadoc, and his wife
was Gladusa, the eldest of ten daughters of King Bra-
chan. Of these ladies one was St. Almehda ; another
St. Keyna ; a third, little deserving any honourable
memory herself, was the mother of St. David.
One night a supernatural voice broke in upon the
slumbers of St. Gundleus and Gladusa. " The King
of heaven, the Ruler of earth, hath sent me hither :"
thus it spoke ; " that ye may turn to His ministry with
your whole heart. You He calls and invites, as He
hath chosen and redeemed you, when He mounted on
HERMIT IN WALES. 7
the Cross. I will show you the straight path, which
ye must keep, unto the inheritance of God : lift up
your minds, and for what is perishable, slight not your
souls. On the river's bank there is a rising ground ;
and where a white steed is standing, there is the place
of thy habitation."
The king arose in the morning ; he gave up his
sovereignty to his son Cadoc ; he left his home, he
proceeded to the hill, and found the animal described.
There he built a Church, and there he began an absti-
nent and saintly life ; his dress a haircloth ; his drink
water ; his bread of barley mixed with wood ashes.
He rose at midnight and plunged into cold water ; and
by day he laboured for his livelihood. Holy Cadoc his
son, who at length became Abbot of Carvan, a neigh-
bouring monastery, often came to him, and made him
of good heart, reminding him that the crown is the
reward, not of beginners, but of those who persevere
in good things.
The hill wanted water ; St. Gundleus offered up his
prayers to God, and touched the dry soil with his staff ;
a spring issued from it clear and unfailing.
When his end was approaching, he sent to St. Du-
bricius, Bishop of Llandaff, and to St. Cadoc his own
son. From the hands of the latter he received his last
communion, and he passed to the Lord on the 29th of
March. An angelic host was seen about his tomb, and
sick people, on invoking his intercession, were healed.
His Church, which became his shrine, was near the
sea and exposed to plunderers. Once when pirates
from the Orkneys had broken into it, and carried off
its contents, a storm overtook them on their return,
and, dashing their vessels against each other, sunk all
but two. At another time a robber, who had made off
ST. GUNDLEUS.
with a sacred chalice and vestments, was confronted by
the sea apparently mounting up against him and over-
whelming him. He was forced back into the Church,
where he remained till morning, when he was arrested,
and, but for the Bishop of Llandaif, would have under-
gone capital punishment.
Whether St. Gundleus led this very life, and wrought
these very miracles, I do not know ; but I do know
that they are Saints whom the Church so accounts,
and I believe that, though this account of him cannot
be proved, it is a symbol of what he did and what
he was, a picture of his saintliness, and a specimen of
his power.
tif gk
HERMIT IN JERSEY.
INTRODUCTION.
THE following pages are principally derived from the
Acts of St. Helier, published by the Bollandists among
the Lives of Saints honoured on the 16th of July. The
story is here called a legend, because from the mistakes
made by the author of the Acts, and from the distance
of time at which he lived from the age of the Saint,
many things which he advances rest on little authority.
From the occurrence of the word Normannia, the Bol-
landists argue that he lived after the ninth century, at
least three hundred years after St. Helier. He also
mistakes Childebert the first for Childebert the second,
and places the events which he relates after Brunehault,
the famous queen of Austrasia. Again the vague
words Australis climatis fortissimus, applied to Sigebert,
looks very like a perversion of Austrasia, the ancient
name for the eastern part of France. On the other
hand, it is not by any means meant to assert that the
whole of the narrative is fiction. The author of the
Acts, from several notices which will appear in the
course of the legend, was acquainted with Jersey ; he
10 ST. HELIER,
therefore represents the traditions of his time current in
the island with respect to St. Helier. Traces of that
tradition remain to this day in the islands, and what is
now called St. Helier's hermitage agrees completely
with the description of the place given in the Acts
printed by the Bollandists. Again the journey from
Terouenne (a town near Boulogne, destroyed by the
Emperor Charles V.) along the coast to Normandy, is
described with accuracy, and traces of the honour
formerly paid to the Saint in the diocese of Boulogne
are recorded in the commentary of the Bollandists pre-
fixed to the Acts. What is perhaps most important of
all, these Acts are corroborated by the early Acts of
St. Marculfus in many points, as for instance in the
story of the repulsion of the Saxon fleet, and in the
number of the inhabitants said to be in the islands.
The Bollandists in the first volume of May assign the
life of St. Marculfus to a period not later than the year
640, within the first century after St. Helier flourished.
From all this, it appears probable that the leading facts
of the story are true. We may even be warranted in
supposing that God was pleased, for the conversion of
the wild population of these islands, to work miracles
by the hand of His servant. It is however still an
open question, whether the particular miracles here
recorded were those worked by St. Helier ; and it may
here be observed that the miracles said to have oc-
curred before his baptism have less evidence than any
of the others, because the scene to which they are
referred lies at a distance from the island, in which it
appears that the author of the Acts wrote his account ;
they have not therefore the insular tradition in their
favour. In order to account for their appearance in the
Acts of the Saint, it is not necessary to accuse the
HERMIT IN JERSEY. 11
author of dishonesty. In an age of faith, when mira-
cles were not considered as proofs of a system which
required no proof, but simply as instances of God's
power working through His Saints, men were not criti-
cal about believing a little more or a little less. Again,
there is no proof that the writers intended these stories
to be believed at all. Many of them may have been
merely legends, things worthy of being " read for ex-
ample of life and instruction of manners." 1 Many a
wild and grotesque tale about the triumphs of Saints
and Angels over the powers of evil may have been told
to the novices by an aged monk at recreation-time
without being considered as an article of faith. Such
stories were only meant to be symbols of the invisible,
like the strange forms of devils which were sculptured
about the Church. As for St. Helier's carrying his
head in his hands, it may be observed that the writer
only represents the story as a conjecture of the priest
who attended on the Saint. And it may here be men-
tioned, that besides this of St. Helier, only three other
instances have been found by us of similar legends, the
well known story of St. Denys, that of St. Winifred,
and that of St. Liverius, martyred by the Huns at
Metz, A.D. 450, and mentioned in one Martyrology, 2 on
the 25th of November. Of these four instances, that
which is the best known, seems, though occurring in
the Roman Breviary, to be tacitly or avowedly given
up by most writers on the subject ; and all, except the
instance of St. Winifred, which may perhaps be consi-
dered in another place, are introduced to account for
the removal of the body of a Saint from the place of
his martyrdom. If there were not also a want of evi-
1 Sixth Article. 2 V. Usuard. ed. Seller, p. 700.
12 ST. HELIER,
dence for these stories, this alone would not of course
authorize us to mistrust them, for none would presume
to limit the power of Almighty God or His favours to
His Saints. As however they are related by writers
far distant from the time when the events are said to
have occurred, it may be allowed to class them among
mythic legends. Into this form threw itself the
strong belief of those faithful ages in the Christian
truth that the bodies of Saints, the temples of the
Holy Ghost, are under the special keeping of God, and
that these precious vessels are one day to be again
alive, and to be glorified for ever with the saintly souls,
which without them are not perfect. The bodies of
Saints have without doubt been kept incorrupt, as
though life was still in them, and the belief that they
had sometimes by God's power moved as though they
were alive, was only a step beyond that fact. Finally,
it may be well to mention, that as late as the year
1460, Henry VI. granted a favour to the Prior of the
Canons of St. Helier, on account of the miracles still
wrought by his intercession on the rocky islet where he
died.
HERMIT IN JERSEY. 13
A LEGEND OF ST. HELIER.
A great many hundred years ago, when Childebert
was king of the Franks, there lived in the ancient town
of Tongres, a nobleman named Sigebert. He was one
of that race of blue-eyed and long-haired warriors, who
had left their own cold forests in the north of Ger-
many, to settle down in the rich plains which border
on the Rhine. Though he was a nobleman, he was
not created by letters patent like our dukes and earls,
but he was the chief of one of the many tribes of his
nation ; his pedigree, though it was not enrolled in a
herald's office, went as far back as Odin, the northern
hero. His lands were all won by his good sword, and
by the devotion of his followers, who loved him well,
for he was kind and gentle to them, though rough to
his enemies. His wife was a noble lady of Bavarian
race, called Leufgard, and very happy they were to-
gether, for she was a beautiful and loving woman, and
ever submissive to her lord's will. One thing however
was wanting to them : they had no child, and they at
length despaired of ever having any. As a last resource,
they applied to a holy man, who lived near them,
called Cunibert. Now you must know that at that
time the Franks were a half heathen, half Christian
people. Clovis, their most powerful chieftain, had
become a Christian, and having been crowned and
anointed king, had established something like an or-
ganized kingdom, principally by the aid of the Church.
Great numbers of his followers had become Christian ;
but in this wholesale conversion, the fierce northern
warriors still remained half pagan, and some of them
14 ST. HELIER,
were not yet Christian even in name. Among these
unhappily were Sigebert and his wife ; they applied to
Cunibert rather as to a man who had power with God,
than because they believed in our holy faith. Cuni-
bert, who had long washed to convert the noble Ger-
mans, and had mourned over their perverseness, pro-
mised to pray for them, if they in return agreed to give
him the child who should be born, that he might offer
him up to God. They agreed to these terms, and in
due time the prayers of the holy man were heard, and
the lady bore a beautiful child. Before he was born,
however, Cunibert had gone to the Holy Land to visit
the tomb of our Lord, and he remained in the East for
three years. On his return, he claimed the fulfilment
of their engagement ; but the lady looked into the
laughing eyes of her fair child, and could not find it in
her heart to part with him. And Sigebert laughed
aloud, and said that his son should be a warrior, and
wield sword and spear, and ride on horseback, not sing
psalms and swing censers ; he should be brought up in
a palace, and wear golden bracelets, and long flowing
hair upon his head, as did his forefathers, not go about
with a shaven crown and be a poor man like Cunibert.
Thus did they stumble at the offence of the cross, as
the world has done from the first. Holy Mary went
on her w r ay to Bethlehem poorly clad ; she had on a
peasant's garment, and the world swept by and did
not know that she was the rich casket which contained
the pearl of great price, which whosoever findeth will
sell all that he hath to buy.
Cunibert went away in sorrow, and probably gave
up all thoughts of ever winning that beautiful child to
Christ. But our blessed Lord, who was once himself
a little child, had not forgotten him. For seven years
HERMIT IN JERSEY. 15
of his life he continued the same Frankish boy ; his
limbs were strong and active, and every body loved
him when they saw him playing about on the green
sward. But all on a sudden, and without any apparent
cause, he seemed to wither away ; his strength forsook
him, and he became pale and weak. One day as he
was lying in pain on his mother's lap, he said, " O, give
me back to that holy man, by whose prayers I was
born, and to whom you promised me." His parents
saw that they could not struggle with the will of God,
and sent their son, lying on a litter, to Cunibert.
When the little boy saw Christ's servant, he said, " O,
holy man, by whose prayers I was born, have pity
upon me, and pray to your God to heal me." Then
Cunibert knelt down beside the child's bed, and God
heard his prayers, and the racking pains left him
and he became as well as ever. Then the holy man
took him to live with him, and gave him the name of
Helier, making him a catechumen or candidate for
Christian baptism. Then the boy was happy, for Cuni-
bert taught him his letters, and he was soon able to
read the Psalter, and to accompany his master when he
sang the hours in Church. Cunibert had nothing but
his own barley bread to give him, and except on feast-
days he ate but one meal a day ; but he liked this
better than the good cheer to which he had been accus-
tomed at the joyous warrior's banquet in his father's
hall.
All this while Helier was unbaptized ; his spiri-
tual guide said nothing to him about it, and Helier
wondered. He however remained in quiet patience,
trusting that God would bring him to the laver of re-
generation in His own good time. What was Cuni-
bert's reason we cannot tell : perhaps he wished further
16 ST. HELIER,
to subdue the impatience of the Frankish blood which
ran in the boy's veins, or, as may by and bye appear
more likely, God had revealed to him what was His
gracious will with respect to that child. What were
the mysterious movements of God's grace on the soul
of Helier, we who have enjoyed the inestimable privi-
lege of having from the first been taken up into the
kingdom of heaven, cannot of course understand. We
can only see the outward life of his soul and look on in
wonder ; for now that Holy Ghost, who of old moulded
the spirits of the prophets, and made St. John the
Baptist to be a dweller in the wilderness and a holy
eremite, dealt graciously with this child of pagan pa-
rents and made him give up the world to live a hard
and lonely life. He gave him favour with the poor
of the earth, among whom he had taken his place.
The wild German who was in process of settling down
from the savage forayer into the boor who tilled the
ground, the half-Christianized giant of the northern
forest, was attracted by the sanctity of this holy child,
who lived day and night in the courts of the Lord's
house. They brought him their sick and their blind,
and thought that there was virtue in the touch of his
little hand, and by the grace of God he healed them.
It might have been thought that the wonders thus
wrought by the hand of his child would have melted
Sigebert's heart ; but instead of seeing in all this the
power of the cross, he thought upon the charms and
mysterious rites of his northern forests, and his heart
was hardened. Then his clansmen came to him and
said, " Let us kill this wizard Cunibert, and get thee
back thy child ;" and he yielded to them and bade them
slay the holy man.
Now God was pleased to reveal to Cunibert what
HERMIT IN JERSEY. 17
was coming upon him, and in the morning after they
had sung matins together, he told the boy that his
death was at hand, and bade him fly away. The
child wept and said, " And will you not baptize me,
O my father ?" Cunibert replied, " God wills that an-
other hand should do that, O my son." And the boy
was very sorry and sore loath to part from his spiritual
guide, but too obedient to gainsay him. They remained
together all day in the Church, and only parted when
evening fell, and then each retired to his cell. Cunibert,
when he was alone, began as usual in quietness and peace
to sing psalms, and as he was singing the hundred
and first psalm, the wicked men entered. They rushed
fiercely up to him, and just as he had come to the words
" Quando venies ad me Domine," he bowed his head
and they smote him down, and immediately went away.
Helier, hearing a noise, came out of his little cell and
went to his master's chamber. He found him lying
dead, bathed in blood, but his countenance was placid,
and his finger was still upon the book, pointing to the
blessed words which were upon his lips when his spirit
passed away. Helier wept sore at the sight, and cried
aloud, " Wonderful is God in His Saints ; He will give
strength and power unto His people : blessed be God."
But he had no time to lose, for he knew that his kins-
men would not be long in coming to look for him ; so
he covered the body of his dear master as well as he
could with earth, and then with a sad heart he rushed
away.
It was the dead of night when he left the Church,
and he knew not where to go, but he went trusting in
God's guidance. He might have returned to his
mother's arms, but he preferred the dreary wild which
he was treading to the dangers of his father's palace.
c
18 ST. HELIER,
For six days he wandered on and on through the
depths of pathless forests, dreading all the while to
hear his father's horsemen pursuing him. At length
he saw a distant town lying before him, and he lifted
up his hands to God and said, "Lead me in Thy way,
and I will walk in Thy truth. Let my heart rejoice
that it may fear Thy name. My God, save me from
the hand of the sinner, and from the hand of mine evil
father, who worketh against Thy law, for Thou art He
on whom I wait." Having said this, he walked on,
and found himself in the town of Terouenne. He was
now almost spent with fatigue, and meeting a poor
widow, he applied to her for help. She took him into
her house and took care of him for two weeks. After
this, he asked her to show him some lonely place,
where he could serve God in quiet. She led him a
little way out of the town, to St. Mary's Church. The
house of God was the place to which he naturally
turned. His dwelling was in the porch of the Church,
and here he remained for five years, living as he had
done with Cunibert. The rain and the wet formed
deep pools about him, and his shoes were worn out, so
that the sharp pebbles were often stained with his
blood. But notwithstanding all these hardships, it
never struck him that he could go elsewhere, for the
only home that he had ever known was the Church,
except indeed his father's palace, and that of course
was out of the question. And the only guide whom he
had known was Cunibert, and now that he was irone,
he was ignorant where to look for another upon earth.
So during these five long years, he waited patiently,
trusting in God. When he wanted food he went to
the widow's house, and there too he had a wooden
pallet on which he stretched himself whenever he chose.
HERMIT IN JERSEY. 19
This way of life attracted the people of the place ; they
saw in the youth one whom Christ had marked for His
own by suffering, and who crucified his body for the
Lord's sake. The sick and infirm learned to put faith in
his prayers, and God was pleased to hear them, as He
had done at Tongres, and healed them. At length, at
the end of five years, an incident happened which more
than ever raised his fame. The wife of a nobleman in
the town of Terouenne, named Rotaldus, was by a
dreadful accident the means of the death of her own
child. The first impulse of the poor father was to
rush to the Bishop of the place, and to implore him to
go to Helier, and to command him to pray that the
babe might return to life. Helier was filled with won-
der when he saw the Bishop approach him, and still
more when he heard his command ; but obedience was
natural to him, and he followed in silence to the
Church where the corpse of the little child lay stretched
upon a bier. Then Helier bethought himself that this
would be a sign whether the time was at hand when
Christ would regenerate his soul in the holy waters of
baptism. So he knelt down and lifted up his hands to
heaven and said, " O God, in whose hand is all power,
who didst raise the child on whom the door was closed,
and the son of the widow of Nain when borne on the
bier, I pray thee, that if it is Thy will that I be made
a Christian, may it be Thy will also of Thy great
goodness that this child be raised to life." And when
he had done praying, the child began to move and to
cry for his mother.
The night after this miracle, Christ appeared in a
vision to Helier, and bade him go to Nanteuil, where a
man named Marculfus would baptize him, and teach him
what was to be his way of life. As soon as he arose in
20 ST. HELIER,
the morning, Helier set about obeying this command.
It was not without tears that he took leave of the good
woman who had been as a mother to him for so long ;
but as soon as this parting was over, his heart was
glad, for he was on his way to be made a Christian.
The devil, however, who is ever roaming through the
world, seeking whom he may devour, made one last
effort to tempt him as he had tempted our blessed
Lord. At the end of a day's journey, when Helier
found himself near the little river Canche, the devil
met him in a bodily shape, and said to him, " Dear
youth, when thou mightest be rolling in all man-
ner of worldly wealth, why wilt thou roam about
alone, rushing after a visionary poverty ?" But Helier
knew the tempter by his advice ; though he stood
alone on the banks of the solitary stream, he did not
fear him, and he pressed boldly on, saying, " Away
with thee to that toil which was laid upon thee from
the time that thou didst fall from heaven and lose the
name of Lucifer." Then the devil vanished away, and
Helier pursued his journey. He went on through the
district of Ponthieu into Normandy, and found St.
Marculfus at the Yaulxdunes, a range of low sandy
hills along the sea-shore. 3
The holy man whom God assigned to Helier in place
of Cunibert, was one who was well able to enter into
the simplicity and fervour of the youth. He was fighting
3 This place, Vallesdunae, is thus described by Caenalis, de
He Gallica, 2. p. 4. Ora ilia maritima quam appellant Valles-
dunffi in Oximensi agro Gulielmi nothi victoria adversus Wido-
nem Burgundionum comites filium memorabilis. In the Chron-
icle of Normandy it is said to be three leagues from Caen, v.
Receuil des Hist. Tom. 11. p. 333, where also see a curious
description of the place from the Roman du Rom.
HERMIT IN JERSEY. 21
hard to root up the paganism which still lingered about
the diocese of Coutances. Having received a command
from God to build a monastery, he one morning
mounted his ass and journeyed up to Paris, where his
sanctity awed the mind of the savage Frankish king
Childebert, so that he came back to Coutances with a
grant of land at Nanteuil. Here on the borders of
that stormy sea, which was not so wild as the men
whom he had to rule, he built his Abbey. He would
sometimes retire into a lonely island off the coast,
which still bears his name, to serve God in solitude ;
still, however, he was always to be found on the main-
land whenever the service of God called him thither.
To him then Ilelier repaired, and on the day of our
Lord's nativity, in the Church of St. Mary, his soul
was washed in the healing waters of baptism. For this
Helier had longed with a patient longing, day and
night, and now that he was born anew to Christ, he
rejoiced with an unfeigned joy. He knew that God
could overstep the bounds which He has set to Himself,
and by a special grace keep from sin the soul of the un-
baptized, if he has the desire of baptism ; but he also
knew that regeneration, the proper gift of the gospel,
was only given through the channel of baptism. Nay,
though his body had been endued with virtue so as to
heal the sick, yet this was nothing to him, as long as
his soul lacked that illumination which is given by
water and the Spirit. As then Cornelius, though the
external gifts of the Holy Ghost had fallen upon him,
was baptized, so was Helier brought to the holy font
after so many years of waiting.
For three months he remained with Marculfus, but
he longed to be at work and to carry out the crucifixion
by which he had been crucified with Christ. He
22 ST. HELIER,
begged of his new spiritual guide to point him out
some lonely spot, where he could remain serving Christ
with prayers and spiritual songs day and night.
Woods and caves there were in plenty, where he might
take up his abode ; there was the old forest of Scissay,
in the heart of which was still a pagan temple, where
the savage people worshipped. But Marculfus sent
him to live in a wilder spot than this. The Abbot of
Nanteuil had so much to do on the mainland of the
Cotentin, that he could not as yet take into the range
of his labours the many islets which lie on that wild
coast. The cluster now called the Channel Islands,
was then a sort of legendary ground, a vague and
shifting spot, on the verge of Christendom, and as yet
untouched by the faith of Christ. Thither he sent
Helier, and with him a priest named Romardus, to
show the people of the islands what Christians were.
They had not very far to sail from France to Jersey,
for the islands were probably nearer to the mainland
than they are now, such changes have the waves caused
on the Norman coast. What is now St. Michael's bay,
was then a large forest, and the people of Guernsey
still have stories to tell about the time when their
island and the little isle of Herm were one. The place
to which they first came was Augia, 4 for that is the
4 The author of the Acts of Helier calls the island Agna,
which is an evident mistake for Augia, a word derived from the
German aue, a meadow. There is another isle of Augia, in
the lake of Constance, and the word forms part of the name of
no less than eight monasteries in the diocese of Constance.
The German names of these places are all compounds of aw,
or aue, which is a proof of the etymology assigned to this name
for Jersey. There are places in Normandy with nearly or
entirely the same name, as Aujria, le pays d'Auge, and the
monastery of Augum or Eu, called also B. Maria Augensis.
HERMIT IN JERSEY. 23
name which the Franks gave to Jersey on account of
its green meadows and well-watered valleys. Theirs
was in all likelihood the first Christian foot which
touched the ground of the island. It was the last
stronghold of the Celts, where dwelt a thin remnant of
the old race which the Franks had conquered. Here
then in the old haunt of Druid rites, did Helier find
himself, with the stone circles and the huge granite
altars of a worn-out faith all around him.
And now how was he to set up the cross over these
rude relics of an ancient world ? He began by bearing it
in his own flesh ; he fasted and wept all day, and he sung
psalms and kept his thoughts ever fixed on God and on
all the wonders which Christ has wrought. No one who
dwelt in king's houses, clad in soft raiment, could have
hoped to win the hearts of the rough and simple feeders
of cattle who dwelt on the island. It was the rude
giant Christopher, says the legend, who bore the infant
Jesus, with the globe and cross in his hand, across the
swollen stream, and so by rough arts did Helier bring
Christ over the fretful waves to these poor islanders.
A common missionary might have preached to them
for many a year in vain, but Helier certainly took no
common way of teaching. He was to be the fore-
runner of the faith of Christ, and so, like John the
Baptist, he lived a supernatural life. The place of his
abode was as dreary as the wilderness on the banks of
the Jordan. About the middle of what is now St.
Aubin's bay, two huge rocks jut into the sea, divided
from each other by a dark chasm, and from the island
by a sort of causeway. At high tide, however, the
water rushes through this chasm, and completely sur-
rounds the rocks which are thus at certain times wholly
cut off from the shore and from each other. On the
24 ST. HELIER,
larger of these huge crags, may still be seen Heller's
hermitage. 5 It is a rough pile of stones, built on a
ledge of the shelving rock, which itself forms one side
and the floor of the building. On the side nearest the
sea, the thick wall is pierced by an opening about as
large as the narrow loophole of one of the many watch
towers built on the headlands of the coast ; and through
this, every wind that sweeps across the sea might
whistle at will. In a corner of this dreary abode, there
is a hole in the rock, now worn smooth, probably by
the monks and pilgrims of after times, and here, as
tradition says, did Helier stretch his limbs during the
few hours which he gave to sleep. For this dreary
place he gave up his father's palace ; and if any one is
tempted to ask why he took all this trouble, I would
bid him wait till the end of my story, and he will know.
The people of the island soon found out Helier ; it
did not require a long train of thought to make out
that he was a man of God ; and two cripples, one a
paralytic, and the other a lame man, came to him, and
by the help of our blessed Lord he healed them. The
simple chronicler who has written the acts of our
Saint, has by chance here put in a few words which
mark the spot of the miracle. He says that those
people healed by Helier left the mark of their footsteps
on the rock ; now it happens that till a few years ago,
5 It is possible that the building which is now on the spot
where Helier lived, was afterwards built by the monks, and this
must be decided by a person learned in architecture. To a
common observer it bears the marks of the highest antiquity,
and is not at all unlike the very ancient chapel called the
Pauline, in the island of Guernsey. At all events it would only
make St. Helier's hermitage indefinitely more austere if even
this rude building was wanting.
HERMIT IN JEESEY. 25
there were in a part of the island not far from his cell,
some strange marks, like the print of feet upon a hard
rock on the sea-shore. No one could tell whether they
were cut out by the hand of man, or were rude basins
worked out by the sea in a fantastic form. The poor
people of the island in after times told another tale
about these footsteps. They said that the blessed
Virgin had once appeared there, and had left the mark
of her feet upon the rock, and a small chapel was built
upon the spot. 6 Now it may be that these mysterious
marks were neither left by the poor men whom Helier
healed, nor yet by that holy Virgin ; but still let us
not despise the simple tales of the peasantry ; there is
very often some truth hidden beneath them. Thus
in this case, we know that a long time after Helier's
death, the people of the island still had stories to tell
about his miracles, and loved to connect with him
whatever appeared mysterious in their wild coast.
Again the rough Celtic name 7 of the man whom Helier
healed, grating unmusically in the midst of a Norman
legend, shows that the tale belonged to an earlier age ;
so that it is very likely that this story contains traces
of a real miracle done by God through Helier's hand.
No one need pity the poor peasants for their faith.
He alone is to be pitied who thinks all truth fable
and all fable truth, and thus mistakes the fantastic
freaks of the tide of man's opinion for the truth itself,
which is founded on that rock which bears the print
of our Lord's ever-blessed footsteps.
6 The spot here meant is still called Le Havre des Pas. The
rock and the ruins of the chapel have been lately blown up, to
procure stone for the building of a fort.
7 Ascretillus.
26 ST. HELIER,
Helier had lived three years on his barren rock, when
at length Marculfus found time to come and visit Jer-
sey. The object of Marculfus in coming to the island
was most likely to build a monastery there ; for that
had been found to be the only way of spreading light
among the benighted people. Many an idol had still
to be cut down by the zealous hand of a Saint ; Brit-
tany and the islands on its coast were especially a de-
batable ground between Christianity and heathenism.
The lives of the Saints of the period are full of stories
which show the belief that evil beings still dwelt in the
wild caves and forests of the country. Strange tales of
wonderful voyages and of dragons destroyed by holy
men are mingled with the Acts of the Saints. 8 And
indeed we cannot tell how great may have been the
power of the Evil one on his own ground in a heathen
country, where he and his angels were worshipped, nor
how much strength the Saints put forth to drive him
out. At all events, it was found that the only way to
root idolatry out of the hearts of the people, was to
advance into the devil's ground and to plant an abbey
in that forest where was an idol's temple. Many a
monastery has become the head quarters of religion in
the spot which was the seat of Druids ; and many
a hermit has won the veneration of the people by
dwelling alone in some place which the fisherman and
the peasant scarce durst approach, because it was be-
8 V. Acts of S. S. Sampson and Maclovius. In the former
of these traces are found of something very like second sight,
and of an antagonist power granted to a Christian Abbot, v. p.
166 and 177. Acta S. S. Ben. vol. L Stories seem to have
connected St. Maclovius with Brendan's famous voyage ; but
little credit however is given to them by the author of the Acts.
Ibid, p. 218.
HERMIT IN JERSEY. 27
lieved to be haunted. This was visibly setting up the
cross of Christ in triumph above the powers of wicked-
ness. Often again the monastery arose around the hut
of the hermit, whose holiness had drawn disciples
around him. Again about this time St. Maur and his
Benedictines arrived in France, 9 and were favoured by
Childebert, the same king who had granted Nanteuil to
St. Marculfus. All this had raised high the monastic
order in France, and makes it the more likely that St.
Marculfus meant Helier to be the Abbot of a monastery
which was to be the centre of religion in the Channel
Islands. Pie looked upon himself as a missionary going
to evangelize men of Celtic race ; when he took leave
of his weeping brethren at Nanteuil, he said, " Breth-
ren, mourn not for me, I pray you, for if I live I will
not delay to return to you ; but I must preach the word
of God in other places, for therefore am I sent." Ac-
companied then by one of his priests, he went, say his
Acts, "into the region of the Britons." Helier re-
ceived him with joy. St. Marculfus, however, hardly
knew his young disciple, so much was his countenance
changed by his devotional exercises and his hard life.
The cold west wind blows all across the Atlantic, often
in boisterous weather forcing the waves with a peculiar
hollow sound upon the rocky headlands, and through
the narrow entrances of the many bays around the
island ; and it had done sad havoc with Helier's slender
form and weather-beaten face. Long did they speak
together in the little hermitage on the rock. The same
old chronicler has told us what they spoke about ; they
related what God's grace had done for them, and how
He had given them power to foil the devil, who had
9 St. Maur came into France about 543.
28 ST. HELIER,
tried to hurt their souls in this lonely place. All their
joy was in the triumph of the cross and in the advance
of Christ's kingdom.
St. Marculfus however could not remain long with
him ; very little is known about his labours in the
island and how far he succeeded in converting them.
He however probably did not do much, for some cause
which is not on record soon took him back to the main-
land. A few days however before he went, God en-
abled him by his prayers to do a signal service to the
poor islanders. Romardus was one day looking forth
on the wide waste of waters which surround the island,
and I dare say his eyes often turned to the mainland of
France, where the diocese of Coutances lay in the dis-
tance, and where now a sharp eye may faintly trace the
outline of the western towers of its cathedral. He
suddenly saw a vessel veering round one of the head-
lands which stretch into the sea, and soon after there
appeared a whole fleet scudding before the wind and
entering, their white sails filled with the breeze, into
the broad bay of St. Aubin's. On a nearer approach
he could see the fatal standard of the White Horse,
which betokened a Saxon fleet. It was very likely a
part of the band of adventurers which was at that time
spreading havoc on the shore of England. Romardus
was dreadfully alarmed at the sight ; the poor people
of the island were far too few in number to resist this
armed host. They were a peaceful race, engaged in
feeding the cattle for which the verdant valleys of the
island were famous, and utterly unable to fight these
iron Saxons. 1 Romardus went to Helier's cell, and
they both together went to Marculfus. He bade them
1 Divites pecoribus et aliis opibus.
HERMIT IN JERSEY. 29
be of good cheer, and all three threw themselves upon
their knees on the top of the bare crag, and prayed to
God to turn away these blood-thirsty heathens from
the islands which were ready to receive the cross. The
prayer of a righteous man is very strong. Some of the
Saxon keels had already touched the strand, when there
gathered a black cloud in the heavens, and the sea
began to boil up fearfully, as any one who has seen the
white waves dashing on that coast can well believe.
In a short time the wrath of God had scattered the
heathen fleet ; some of the vessels were dashed against
each other ; others were swallowed up by the waves,
or broken in pieces against the many rocks which en-
circle that iron-bound coast. The men of the island had
crowded up to St. Marculfus to beg of him to pray to
his God for them ; they were but thirty men in num-
ber, 3 but the Saint, pointing to the few Saxons who
had landed, made the sign of the cross over these
trembling islanders, and bade them be of good cheer,
for God had given these savage plunderers into their
hands. And so it fell out, for the Saxons, dismayed by
the death or dispersion of their companions, and by
the unexpected resistance, became an easy prey. Three
days after this happened, Marculfus crossed over to
France, taking Romardus with him, but still leaving
one of his disciples in the island to be Helier's spiritual
guide. He probably meant to return as soon as affairs
on the continent would allow him. St. Marculfus how-
* The old Acts of St. Marculfus say : fertur etiam-que a mul-
tis asseritur nonplus triginta incolarum temporibus illis in hac
insula demorari. As he is talking of the men capable of bearing
arms, this would make about thirty families. The same number
is repeated in the later Acts, and in St. Helier's Life, except
that the latter says, triginta promiscui sexus.
30 ST. HELIER,
ever never again saw Helier in the flesh, though they
probably finished their earthly pilgrimage about the
same time ; 3 it was God's will that a man of another
race should found the first monastery in the Channel
Islands, and the Abbot of Nanteuil was never again
able to visit Jersey. 4
For twelve long years after his spiritual father had
left him did Helier dwell on his barren rock. His
scanty history does not tell us expressly what he did,
nor whether he with his companion converted the
islanders to the Christian faith. His life is hid with
Christ in God. We are however told minutely how at
last he fell asleep, after his short but toilsome life. One
night when he was resting on his hard couch, our blessed
Lord for whom he had given up all things, appeared to
him in a vision, and smiling upon him, said, " Come to
me, my beloved one ; three days hence, thou shalt depart
from this world with the adornment of thine own blood."
In the morning his spiritual guide came to him, as he
always did at the hour when the sea then, 5 as now, left
bare the causeway between the land and the rock where
he dwelt. Helier then related to him the vision which
he had seen to his great grief, for he at once saw that
the end of his young disciple was near. On the third
3 St. Marculfus was ordained priest at thirty, and after this
had time to found an abbey, and evangelize a district, before
St. Helier knew him. Their acquaintance had lasted fifteen
years when St. Helier died. Their deaths could not therefore
have been much apart, and are generally placed about 558.
4 The Acts of St. Marculfus mention that he converted many
of the inhabitants of the island ; as however he appears to have
remained but a short time in the island, it seems likely that
Helier and the person whom his Acts call his pcrdayogus, and
;vho was probably a priest, really made these converts.
6 Diluculo, recederite mari.
HERMIT IN JERSEY. 31
day Helier arose from his bed of rock, and looked out
upon the sea. A strong south-west wind was blowing,
and he saw that the sea was covered with ships running
before the breeze into the bay of St. Aubin's. He
knew that a fleet of Saxons was at hand, and his heart
told him that this was the summons of his Lord, and
that from these ruthless haters of Christianity he was
to meet his death. He went back into his cell that he
might die, as he had lived, in prayer. For some time
his abode remained unknown, so like was it in colour to
the grey cliff on which it was built. At last the cry or
the flight of the sea-birds who shared the rock with
c?
Helier, called the attention of the pagans to the place,
and they descried the cell perched on the edge and
overhanging the tossing waves below. They were not
long in climbing the cliff, and entering his rude abode.
Neither silver nor gold was there to call forth their
thirst for spoil, and they gazed for some time upon
him, thinking him to be some poor madman. At length
the truth probably flashed across the mind of one of
these savages, that he was a Christian hermit, for he
rushed up to him and cut off his head with his sword,
and Helier immediately gave up his soul into the hands
of his Lord, who had summoned him to appear before
Him to receive the crown of martyrdom. Next morn-
ing his spiritual guide came down to the sea shore to
cross over to the hermitage ; when however he came
down to the beach, he saw lying on the sand the body
of his young disciple. He did not know how it came
there ; the tide might have floated it across the narrow
channel between the hermitage rock and the mainland.
But the head was resting so tranquilly on the breast
between the two hands, and its features still smiling so
sweetly, that he thought that God, to preserve the
32 ST. HELIER,
body of the Saint from infidel hands, had endued the
limbs with life to bear the head across to the shore.
Bitterly did the master weep over the scholar ; he
called him aloud by the name of father,, well knowing
that he had gained more from Helier than Helier from
him. He feared much that his precious body should
after all become the prey of the barbarians, and he
bore it in his arms into a little vessel which was lying
near. He laid his beloved burden upon the deck, and
sat down near it, watching it as a mother would do her
child. At length, however, exhausted with grief and
anxiety, he fell asleep. How long he slept he knew
not ; but when he awoke, he found himself on a coast
which he had never seen. The vessel was swiftly
gliding into a harbour, and men and women were
standing on the shore, with their eyes fixed upon this
strange sight, which they took for a phantom, a vessel
driving on without sail or helmsman, its whole crew a
sleeping man and a headless body. An invisible hand
had unmoored the vessel, and angels had guided it
through rapid current and past bristling rocks ; and it
swam on alone over the surface of the sea, till it came
safely to the harbour where the Saint was to rest.
And when the Bishop of the place heard the story, he
come down to the shore in his pontifical garments, and
with incense and chaunting they bore the body in pro-
cession to the Church. 6
But however this be, let us adore the wonderful
ways of Christ our God, who snatched this brand from
the burning to which by the wickedness of his parents
6 The Acts of St. Helier are so confused, that it is impossible
to make out what is the place here meant. The abbey of
Beaubee, in Normandy, possessed some of the relics of St.
Helier.
HERMIT IN JERSEY. 33
he seemed to be born. He in His great goodness bade
this beautiful flower spring from a rude stock, and
spread the sweet odour of His name in these distant
isles. He brought this son of a Prankish chieftain out
of his father's palace all across France, to die at the
hands of men of his race, in an attempt to teach His
faith to the poor remnant of the Celtic race in this
lonely island. Vague and dim is the Christianity
of this cluster of isles in those early times, when it is
uncertain whether they belonged to Dol or to Cou-
tances. 7 But St. Helier is the first Christian on record
7 It is certain that in Norman times they were in the see of
Coutances, and this in itself makes it probable that they were
always a part of that diocese, for political changes do not seem
to have affected the state of Dioceses marked out by the Church,
except by the consent of the Church. For instance, the parishes
of St. Sampson, of Rupes, and Palus Warnerii, were always
peculiars of the Bishop of Dol, though situated in the diocese
of Rouen, because they had once belonged to St. Sampson's
Abbey of Pentale, and that, though the Abbey itself was de-
stroyed by the Normans. Gall. Christ. Tom. xi. 120. Again,
the Channel Islands themselves were never regularly transferred
to an English diocese, though the see of Coutances was lost to
the kings of England. A papal bull allowed ships to go freely
to the islands in war time, apparently for the very purpose of
allowing the Bishop of Coutances to cross over when he pleased.
If then the islands had ever been in the diocese of Dol, it seems
likely that they would never have been transferred. The only
argument on the other side is, that Baldricus, Archbishop of
Dol, asserts that these islands were given to St. Sampson, by
king Childebert. It may, however, be asked, whether an Arch-
bishop of Dol in the twelfth century is very good authority for
an event of the sixth, especially, it may be added, at the height
of the dispute between Dol and Tours. Perhaps the most
likely account is, that in the stormy times of the Franks, the
islands never strictly formed part of any diocese ; it is not on
record that St. Sampson made a permanent establishment in
D
34 ST. HELIER,
who strove to bend the stubbornness of the British
race, and to turn them from the worship of the fountain
and the rock to the faith of Christ. How many were
converted by him we cannot tell, but at all events it
was from him that they first gathered their ideas of
the Christian faith. His fasts and his prayers and his
innocent blood rose up before the Lord in behalf of
all these islands. In after times, things were much
changed in this little cluster of isles ; they were no
longer the same lonely spots as when Jersey had but
thirty men who could bear arms, and Guernsey was a
sacred island of Druids. In the many wars which the
men of Brittany waged against each other or their
neighbours, the isles were useful retreats for those of
Celtic race. Dukes of Brittany, Frankish counts, and
native lords appear amongst them ; and a Neustrian
Abbot 8 came thither as an envoy from Charlemagne.
Rugged and stubborn was the Breton race, and loose
was its allegiance to France, whether a long-haired
Frank or a Carlovingian reigned at Paris. They could
hardly bow before the awful majesty of Charlemagne,
and the feeble princes of his race only calmed them by
opposing them as a barrier to the Normans. In these
stormy times of Brittany, the islands were homes to
their brethren on the continent, and Saints of different
race from Helier came there, so that they seemed des-
tined to be torn from Coutances, the see which had
sent him forth. About the very time when St. Mar-
culfus died, St. Sampson came to Jersey with his cousin
them, though he certainly preached as a missionary in at least
one of them, apparently Alderney, and probably in more, v.
Act. S. S. Ben. Tom. 1. p. 184; and St. Maglorius had resigned
his bishoprick when he crossed over to Jersey.
8 V. Neustria Pia. p. 155.
HERMIT IN JERSEY. 35
Judael, a prince of British blood. Shortly after came
St. Maglorius, who healed the Frankish count Loyesco
of his leprosy, and to him was given half the island,
rich in woodlands and in fisheries. Here he built a fair
Abbey, where dwelt sixty monks ; in his day the faith
of Christ sunk deep into the minds of the islanders,
for the poor fishermen who in their frail barks had to
wrestle with that stormy sea, loved him well, and
willingly brought their fish to the Abbey, whose
vassals they were. Long afterwards they told how St.
Maglorius was kind to them, so that when one of them
was drowned, the Saint wept sore, and vowed a vow
never to eat fish again ; and when evening came, he
with all the monks went down to the shore chaunting
litanies ; then he threw himself upon the sandy beach,
and God heard his prayer, and was pleased to restore
the dead man to life. In Guernsey too, 9 the Saint
healed the daughter of the native chieftain, and a field
there, where once stood a chapel of which he was the
patron, is still called after his name. All this seemed
to show that another race than that of Helier was to
9 Bissargia insula eidem Sargiae vicina, dives opum atque
frugum, a quodam viro nobili, qui vocabatur Nivo, jure hsere-
ditario tenebatur. Act. S. S. Ben, Ssec. 1. vita St. Maglorii 29.
The author goes on to speak of the numerous ploughs and
vessels of the island, which description agrees much better with
Guernsey than with the far smaller island of Sark. A
learned friend in the Channel Islands, to whom these pages are
much indebted, has suggested that Bissargia or Ve-sargia, is a
Celtic diminutive, implying a larger Sargia. That the Sargia of
the Acts is Jersey, is proved from its being called Javarsiacum,
v. Ann. Ben. ii. 655. Guernsey, as being the smaller island,
might therefore be called Bissargia. It is, however, very
probable that the names of these small islands may have been
confounded in those early times.
36 ST. HELIER,
possess the Channel Islands ; many of the numberless
clear fountains in the islands are still called after
Breton Saints, and many of the little chapels which
once studded the green valleys which run up and down
through the whole country, were dedicated to those
favourite patrons of the spot. The islands, with the
entire Cotentin, were formally given up to Brittany
when Charles the Bold gave to Salomon, a Celtic prince,
the golden circlet of a king. But after being bandied
about from Frank to Celt, the isles were finally gained
by William, second duke of Normandy, whose long
sword was used to settling accounts between Brittany
and France. Then came the time when churches and
chapels were dedicated in the names of St. Mary and
St. George, instead of St. Sampson and St. Anne, the
patron saints of Brittany. Then was Guernsey really
the Holy Isle, when St. Michael's Abbey arose on the
hillock where the huge granite altar of the Druids
still remains to show how the blessed Archangel has
triumphed over Satan ; and there also in times of
Norman rule was built the nunnery of St. Mary of
Lihou, in passing whose islet even now French vessels
vail their topmast, though only the ruins exist. Then
too it becomes clearer that through all these changes
the name of St. Helier had not been forgotten. The
Church of Coutances, which on the 16th of July cele-
brates the feast of the youthful martyr, was now without
doubt the see to which the Channel Islands belonged.
Even when the Celtic names lingered only in the lonely
places of nature, and the Norman manors of St. Ouen,
Anneville, and Saumarez, showed that the soil was
possessed by lords of a different race, still St. Helier
was remembered. A monastery was founded after-
wards by William Fitz-Hamon, a Norman nobleman,
HERMIT IN JERSEY. 37
on the fellow rock to that on which he lived, where
Elizabeth castle now stands ; and the rude steps which
lead to his hermitage are even now to be seen worn by
the steps of pilgrims in former times. There now
appear faint marks on the wall, as if the monks of St.
Helier had done their best to adorn it with frescoes,
and to turn it into a small chapel by raising an altar in
it. Well might they be grateful to him, for he sancti-
fied the island with his blood. Not only Jersey, but
the whole of the little group of islands was benefitted
by him, for he first, as far as records tell us, crossed, in
the character of a servant of Christ, the stormy sea
which divides them from the mainland ; and the Abbot
of St. Michael, when every third year he bore the
Holy Sacrament, on Corpus Christi-day, through a
great part of Guernsey, might bless the memory of
Helier, whose blood had first made Christ known to
these lonely islands. Even now many a peasant in
the two largest islands of the Norman cluster, bears
the name of the Saint, though he most probably has
forgotten him to whom in great part he owes it that he
is a Christian.
HISTORY OF
HERMIT ON DERWENTWATER.
A. D. 687.
IT is not to be expected that much information should
remain to us respecting one whose aim when on earth
had been to retire from the world and to be unknown.
Such is the case of St. Herbert, a Priest and Con-
fessor, who in the latter part of the seventh century
led a solitary life on one of the islands of Derwent-
water, which still bears his name.
He is known to us only through his connexion with
St; Cuthbert, to whom he was long united by the ties
of religious friendship ; and all the records which
remain of his life are contained in the Histories of that
Saint. One, a life supposed to be written by a con-
temporary monk of Lindisfarne : the others, by the
venerable Bede ; first, a metrical history, principally of
his miracles, in Latin hexameters, in which as we might
expect, there is a poetical freedom in reporting the
words of the Saints ; a later and more full and exact
life, from which the narrative we are interested in, is
repeated almost in the same words, in the account of
St. Cuthbert, in the Ecclesiastical History, agreeing
ST. HERBERT. 39
also in substance, though more detailed and accurate
than the relation of the same event by the earlier
writer.
St. Herbert is described as a Priest, venerable for
the goodness of his life and character ; and, whilst his
friendship with St. Cuthbert of itself indicates his
sanctity, he is even said by the biographers of that
Saint, to have almost equalled him in holiness during
life, and from the chastening of a long and painful
illness, to have attained at death to an equal degree of
fitness for future glory. Yet St. Cuthbert became the
object of general veneration ; Herbert was almost
unknown ; for the one was called to positions of re-
sponsibility and public exertion, and endued with
powers and gifts fitting him for them ; the other, so far
as we know, led a retired life, and was unendued with
extraordinary gifts.
Of St. Herbert's earlier history we know nothing.
Their friendship makes it probable that he had pre-
viously lived where he had had frequent opportunities
of intercourse with St. Cuthbert ; in the monastery
(we might have supposed, but for the absence of any
record of him) of Melrose or Lindisfarne, in which,
previous to his retirement to solitude, St. Cuthbert's
life had been spent, and over which he had successively
presided ; whilst the expressions of submission used to
him by Herbert fall in with the idea that he had been
under his authority.
It was, as the metrical life informs us, from the
advice of his spiritual friend and guide that he retired
to the cell on Derwentwater ; and that he had pre-
viously been in a religious society, is confirmed by the
circumstance that hermits usually were persons who
had spent some time in a monastery, and then, like
40 ST. HERBERT,
St. Cuthbert, sought a life which seemed to afford
opportunity for a more uninterrupted exercise of de-
votion and meditation. Some of the most holy men,
however, and the greatest fathers of the Church, gave
the preference to the life of monks in community, and
did not approve of the change to solitude, as depriving
a man of the opportunity of forming and exercising
the graces of the Christian character, and of benefiting
others by his gifts and labours. But, on the other
hand, St. Athanasius, one of the most sober and judi-
cious of them, and St. Jerome, the most accomplished,
wrote the Lives of the first hermits, St. Antony and
St. Hilarion. Perhaps we may say rightly that the
eremitical life can never be properly attempted without
a special divine inspiration, calling a man to it ; and
then it is not simply allowable, but a duty. Even
then it has often been found expedient not to adopt it
without the preparatory discipline of a religious society,
to learn self-control, severe hardihood in bearing with
privations, humility, submission, and affectionate for-
getfulness of self. That such a training had been
gone through by St. Herbert, seems implied in his re-
tirement being the consequence of the advice of St.
Cuthbert, whose own life had been one of so much
active exertion for the good of others ; and in the hu-
mility and affectionate submission which appear so
strongly to have marked his character.
The retreat selected by him was a place secured
from sudden or careless interruption, at the northern
extremity of an island lying nearly in the centre of the
Lake, which is almost five miles long and one and a
half in width, and closely surrounded by mountains.
The island itself is somewhat less than five acres in
extent, and apparently unproductive. The sound of
HERMIT ON DERWENT WATER. 41
the waterfalls on shore may be heard from it, swelling
soft or loud as borne upon the wind, and it is the very
spot which would be chosen by one who wished from
one station to study the whole circumference of the
Lake and the hills around it. At the same time the
low level of its position excludes from view the richer
flat grounds which adjoin the Lake, leaving only the
more wild and dreary portions of the scene.
It is often remarked that situations of great natural
beauty were selected by those who adopted the solitary
life ; as though the religious mind felt a sympathy
with the beauty of the natural objects which surrounded
it, as at all times it has delighted to raise up the forms of
grace and sublimity in works of art. And yet it seems
perhaps more in harmony with the ascetic life to sup-
pose that, though not indifferent to those beauties and
unconsciously influenced by them, and willing to speak
of them to others, the solitary would rather in his own
thoughts recur to the words which reminded him of
the time when all these things would be destroyed ;
and even when he most rejoiced in them, it would be
as suggesting the new and more glorious world to
which they would give place. " What need to tell,"
says St. Basil of his own hermitage, " of the exhala-
tions from the earth, or the breezes from the river ?
Another might admire the multitude of flowers and
singing birds, but leisure I have none for such thoughts."
We shall, however, form an inadequate idea of the
self-denial of St. Herbert, unless we call to mind the
condition of the country to which he retired. It was
then occupied by a part of the Cymry, the remains of
the British tribes, and formed one of their petty king-
doms. They were indeed subject to the Saxons, but
foreigners in language and habits, and separated by the
42 ST. HERBERT,
most bitter hostility. Each nation regarded the other
as worse than heathen, and exercised the greatest
cruelties towards them. Their Churches were not in
communion, and their common faith was forgotten. The
Britons in this country are said to have been ecclesias-
tically subject to St. Kentigern's see of Glasgow, but
they seem now to have been in a very ignorant, irre-
ligious, and almost barbarous condition. Nay, a por-
tion of them in the wilds of Cumberland, were actually
pagan. The Roman occupation of that district, being
for the mere purpose of a Frontier against the Picts or
Caledonians, had never opened a way for the general
conversion and instruction of the inhabitants. Even
the professed Christians seem to have mingled heathen
customs and usages with their Christianity. It was
for a wild country with such inhabitants, who would
look on a Saxon as a natural enemy, that Herbert
exchanged the society of his countrymen, and the inter-
course and sympathy of those Religious Houses which
were the seats of piety and brotherly love, and the
peaceful reward of labour and study. From the diffi-
culties and trials thus incurred, he gained a special
right to the title of Confessor by which he is designated
in the Martyrologies.
One tie however was retained, in a yearly meeting
with St. Cuthbert, with whom he then conferred as to
his religious state, communicating his failings and in-
firmities, and receiving directions and advice respecting
his everlasting well-being. A similar yearly visit is said
to have been made by St. Bega to St. Hilda ; and we
seem to have a parallel in later times in the friendship
of our own Hooker and Saravia, so beautifully described
by Walton, who says they were supposed to be Con-
fessors to each other. And such instances suggest the
HERMIT ON DERWENTWATER. 43
means of a perfection of friendship among Christians
which otherwise could not exist. An unreserved con-
fidence being allowed, under circumstances so sacred as
to preclude the danger of familiarly speaking of our
faults, and producing the affectionate trust which arises
from the thought that all our known wrong doings
and failings have been confessed to one who yet loves
us and sympathises with us. St. Cuthbert had a sin-
gular power of thus influencing others, as Bede states,
in speaking of his preaching.
It was probably in the latter part of the year 686,
that the last interview of these holy friends took place
on earth. And this is the occasion of the mention of
St. Herbert in Bede's history, as being an instance of
the foreknowledge of the time of his death, vouchsafed
to St. Cuthbert.
The Saint had now been more than a year Bishop
of Lindisfarne, and was making a second visit to Car-
lisle, which, with the country fifteen miles round it,
had been given him by Egfrid, king of Northumbria.
His former visit had been abruptly terminated by the
death of the king, and he now returned, at the request
of the brethren of his monastery there, to ordain
Priests, and to give the religious habit and his bene-
diction to Ermenburga, the widow of Egfrid, who was
retiring to the Religious Society at Carlisle, over which
her sister presided.
Here, according to his yearly practice, St. Herbert
met him, desiring, by his wholesome exhortations, to
be more and more inflamed in his affection for heavenly
objects. After prayer, as was their rule, whilst they
were communing on spiritual subjects and (to adhere
to the language of the venerable Bede) were mutually
inebriating each other with draughts of heavenly life,
44 ST. HERBERT,
St. Cuthbert desiring (as the metrical Life relates)
that that day, on which they had been mercifully
allowed to meet again, should be spent in the delights
of holy converse, said, among other things, " Remember
at this time, my brother Herbert, to ask and say to me
all you wish ; for after our parting now we shall not
again see each other with the eyes of the flesh in this
world ; for I know that the time of my departure is at
hand, and that I must shortly put off this tabernacle."
On this Herbert, falling at his feet, with groans and
tears, said, " For our Lord's sake, I beseech you not to
leave me, but remember your most faithful companion,
and entreat the mercy of Heaven, that we, who have
together served Him on earth, may pass together to
behold His grace and glory in the heavens. You know
I have always studied to live according to your direc-
tion, and if from ignorance or infirmity I have in any
point failed, I have taken pains to chastise and amend
my fault according to the decision of your will."
The Bishop bent in prayer, and being immediately
informed by the Spirit that his request was granted,
said, " Rise up, my brother, and do not mourn, but
rather rejoice greatly, for the mercy of Heaven has
granted what we asked."
They separated, St. Cuthbert to his See, which he
shortly afterwards resigned, and retired for the few
remaining months of his life to the cell in the island of
Fame, which he inhabited before his consecration.
Herbert to his island. The event verified the promise
and prediction. After this separation, they never again
saw each other with the eyes of the body, but on one
and the same day, nay, at one and the same hour on
Wednesday, the twentieth of March, 687, their spirits
departing from the body, were immediately united in
HERMIT ON DERWENTWATER. 45
the blessed vision of each other, and by the ministry of
angels translated together to the kingdom of Heaven.
Herbert, however, as Bede relates, was prepared by
long previous illness, from an appointment, we may
suppose, of Divine mercy, that in whatever degree he
fell short of the merits of the blessed Cuthbert, this
might be supplied by the chastening pains of length-
ened sickness ; so that equalling the grace of him who
had interceded for him, they might, as they had at one
and the same time departed from the body, be fitted to
be received into one undistinguished dwelling of ever-
lasting bliss.
Seven centuries had almost passed away, and the
remembrance of at least this event of St. Herbert's life
was lost in the country where he had died : for he was a
stranger, and under the alternate dominion of England
and Scotland, the people had changed their language
and habits, and were still in a poor and illiterate condi-
tion, when, A.D. 1374, the then Bishop of Carlisle,
Thomas de Appleby, issued a mandate for the yearly
commemoration of this event.
He states that in reading sacred books he had met
with this narrative in Bede's History, and, conceiving
that few if any were acquainted with it, " In order that
men might not be ignorant of what the Lord had
vouchsafed to reveal for the glory of His Saints," he
appointed that on the anniversary of their death, the
Vicar of Crosthwaite, the parish in which the Lake
lies, should proceed to St. Herbert's Isle, and there
celebrate with full chaunting the Mass of St. Cuthbert ;
adding an Indulgence of forty days to all who should
on that day repair thither for devotion in honour of St.
Cuthbert, and in remembrance of Herbert. " What a
happy holyday must that have been for all these vales !"
46 ST. HERBERT,
says a gifted writer lately taken from us ; " and how
joyous on a fine spring day must the Lake have ap-
peared with boats and banners from every chapelry !
and how must the Chapel have adorned that little isle,
giving a human and religious character to the soli-
tude I" 1
The remains of a building are still visible among the
wood with which the island is covered, " making the
island," adds Southey, " mere wilderness as it has be-
come, more melancholy." Hutchinson, the Historian
of Cumberland, describes it in his time, fifty years ago,
as appearing to consist of two apartments, the outer
one about twenty-two feet by sixteen, which probably
had been the chapel ; the other, of narrower dimen-
sions, the cell. Of this smaller room the traces are
almost lost : the walls of the other remain to the height
of about three feet from the ground, built in the simple
way of the country, of unwrought slaty stones and
mortar ; heaps of stones from the building are lying
around, and all are now overgrown with ivy, moss, and
brambles, and clasped by the roots of trees which have
grown upon them.
It is in a state befitting the simplicity and unas-
suming character of so meek a Saint, who wished to be
withdrawn from public notice, and to be little thought
of, and whose wishes were fulfilled after death, as in
life. His name would have been unreported in his-
tory, except to show the greatness of the revelations
made to his friend. It was in honour of St. Cuthbert
that the mass was said in the chapel of his isle, and the
very document which appoints it abstains from giving
him the title of Saint, which is uniformly added to
1 Southey's Colloquies, vol. ii. p. 35.
HERMIT ON DERWENTWATER. 47
the name of Cuthbert : and Herbert is remembered
that St. Cuthbert may be honoured.
His name was added to the Martyrology of Usu-
ardus, in Greven's edition, A.D. 1516 to 1521. It is
given by Canisius in the German Martyrology, and by
Ferrarius in his General Catalogue following an Eng-
lish Martyrology.
Since in this age we cannot join the yearly pageant
on his island, we will keep memory of him in the words
of a poet, who is his neighbour, and who has written
this inscription for the spot where was his hermi-
tage :
If thou in the dear love of some one Friend
Hast been so happy that thou knowest what thoughts
Will sometimes in the Happiness of Love
Make the heart sink, then wilt thou reverence
This quiet spot : and, Stranger ! not unmoved
Wilt thou behold this shapeless heap of stones,
The desolate ruins of St. Herbert's cell.
Here stood his threshold ; here was spread the roof
That sheltered him, a self-secluded Man,
After long exercise in social cares
And offices humane, intent to adore
The Deity, with undistracted mind,
And meditate on everlasting things
In utter solitude. But he had left
A Fellow-labourer, whom the good Man loved
As his own soul. And, when with eye upraised
To heaven he knelt before the crucifix,
While o'er the Lake the cataract of Lodore
Pealed to his orisons, and when he paced
Along the beach of this small isle and thought
Of his Companion, he would pray that both
48 ST. HERBERT.
(Now that their earthly duties were fulfilled)
Might die in the same moment. Nor in vain
So prayed he : as our Chronicles report,
Though here the Hermit numbered his last day,
Far from St. Cuthbert, his beloved Friend,
Those holy Men both died in the same hour. 2
* Wordsworth's Poems, i. 299. ed. 1832.
HISTORY OF
HERMIT AT FARNE,
A. D. 700.
THERE is a small island off the coast of Northumber-
land, by name Fame, seven miles to the south of the
famous Holy Island, or Lindisfarne, and at the distance
of two miles from the mainland. It is encompassed by
a girdle of rocks, and once contained in it a mound of
a circular form, in which there lay a spot of ground
about seventy feet across, and to which St. Bede, in a
passage presently to be quoted, gives the name of
"heights," and Camden that of "fortress." Here St.
Cuthbert lived a solitary life between his sojourn in
the monastery, and his elevation to the see, of Lin-
disfarne ; hither had he come to die ; here, according
to some accounts, he was originally buried. We are
accustomed to consider a hermitage as a rural retreat
in a wood, or beside a stream ; a wild pretty spot,
where the flowers fill the air with sweetness, and the
birds with melody. So it often was ; and hard indeed
it should not be so. Hermits have privations enough
without being cut off from the sight of God's own
world, the type of glories unseen. However, otherwise
thought St. Cuthbert : accordingly he so contrived the
wall which circled round his inclosure, as to see nothing
E
50 ST. EDELWALD,
out of doors, but the blue sky or the heavy clouds over
his head.
Stone walls do not a prison make,
Nor iron bars a cage ;
Minds innocent and quiet take
That for a hermitage.
Such was the sentiment of a soldier of this world ;
the great combatants for the next have fulfilled it more
literally as well as more religiously. Edelwald suc-
ceeded Cuthbert in this uninviting abode. He had
been for many years a monk of Ripon, where St. Wil-
fred had founded a religious house, and afterwards was
buried. Felgeld succeeded Edelwald, and was an old
man of seventy in Bede's time, who perhaps on his
information has recorded the following anecdote of the
Saint in his metrical account of St. Cuthbert's miracles.
After mentioning St. Cuthbert and Felgeld, he pro-
ceeds :
Between these comrades dear,
Zealous and true as they,
Thou, prudent Ethelwald, didst bear,
In that high home the sway.
A man, who ne'er, 'tis said,
Would of his graces tell,
Or with what arms he triumphed
Over the Dragon fell.
So down to us hath come
A memorable word,
Which in unguarded season from
His blessed lips was heard.
HERMIT AT FARNE. 51
It chanced that as the Saint
Drank in with faithful ear
Of Angel tones the whispers faint,
Thus spoke a brother dear :
" O why so many a pause
Thwarting thy words' full stream,
Till her dark line Oblivion draws
Across the broken theme?"
He answered, " Till thou seal
To sounds of earth thine ear,
Sweet friend, be sure thou ne'er shalt feel
Angelic voices near."
But then the Hermit blest
A sudden change came o'er ;
He shudders, sobs, and smites his breast,
Is mute, then speaks once more.
" O by the Name Most High,
What I have now let fall,
Hush, till I lay me down to die,
And go the way of all !"
Thus did a Saint in fear
His gifts celestial hide ;
Thus did an Angel standing near
Proclaim them far and wide.
Bede adds that in this respect Edelwald presented a
remarkable contrast to St. Cuthbert ; who when com-
memorating the trials of Christians in former ages, was
also in the habit of stating to others the sufferings and
52 ST. EDELWALD,
graces wrought in himself by the mercy of Christ ;*
" thus," he observes, " the One Spirit adorned the two
men with distinct gifts, and led them on to one king-
dom by a different path."
St. Cuthbert's hermitage, though sufficiently well
contrived to keep out the view of the sea and rocks,
and of the cliffs of the neighbouring land, was not
equally impervious to wind and water, which are of a
ruder nature, and intrude themselves into places where
the refined sense of sight and its delicate visions cannot
enter. The planks of his cottage parted, and let in
the discomforts of the external world without its com-
pensations. The occurrence which grew out of this
circumstance brings together the three successive in-
mates of the place, Cuthbert, Edelwald, and Felgeld, in
a very sacred way ; and as it comes to us on good evi-
dence, viz. the report of Bede from the mouth both of
Felgeld, and of a common friend of Felgeld and him-
self, it shall here be given as he has recorded it. 2
" Nor do I think," says Venerable Bede, " I ought
to omit the heavenly miracle which the Divine mercy
showed by means of the ruins of the holy oratory, in
which the venerable father went through his solitary
warfare in the service of the Lord. Whether it was
effected by the merits of the same blessed father Cuth-
bert, or his successor Ethelwald, a man equally devoted
to the Lord, the Searcher of the heart knows best.
There is no reason why it may not be attributed to
either of the two, in conjunction with the faith of the
1 At pia Cuthbertus memorans ssepe acta priorum
jEtheria sub laude, sui quoque Christus agonis
Ut fuerat socius, suerat subnectere paucis.
2 In vit. St. Cuthb. In the extracts which follow, Dr. Giles's
translation is used with some trifling variations.
HERMIT AT FARNE. 53
most holy father Felgeld ; through whom and in whom
the miraculous cure, which I mentioned, was effected.
He was the third person who became tenant of the
same place and its spiritual warfare, and, at present
more than seventy years old, is awaiting the end of this
life, in expectation of the heavenly one.
" When therefore God's servant Cuthbert had been
translated to the heavenly kingdom, and Ethelwald had
commenced his occupation of the same island and mon-
astery, after many years spent in conversation with the
monks, he gradually aspired to the rank of anchoritic
perfection. The walls of the aforesaid oratory, being
composed of planks somewhat carelessly put together,
had become loose and tottering by age, and, as the planks
separated from one another, an opening was afforded to
the weather. The venerable man, whose aim was
rather the splendour of the heavenly than of an earthly
mansion, having taken hay, or clay, or whatever he
could get, had filled up the crevices, that he might not
be disturbed from the earnestness of his prayers by the
daily violence of the winds and storms. When Ethel-
wald entered and saw these contrivances, he begged
the brethren who came thither to give him a calf's
skin, and fastened it with nails in the corner, where
himself and his predecessor used to kneel or stand
when they prayed, as a protection against the storm.
" Twelve years after, he also ascended to the joys of
the heavenly kingdom, and Felgeld became the third
inhabitant of the place. It then seemed good to the
right reverend Eadfrid, bishop of the Church of Lin-
disfarne, to restore from its foundation the time-worn
oratory. This being done, many devout persons begged
of Christ's holy servant Felgeld, to give them a small
portion of the relics of God's servant Cuthbert, or of
54 ST. EDELWALD,
Ethelwald, his successor. He accordingly determined
to cut up the above-named calf s skin into pieces, and
give a portion to each. But he first experienced its
influence in his own person ; for his face was much
deformed by a swelling and a red patch. The symp-
toms of this deformity had become manifest long before
to the monks, whilst he was dwelling among them.
But now that he was living alone, and bestowed less
care on his person, whilst he practised still greater
rigidities, and, like a prisoner, rarely enjoyed the sun
or air, the malady increased, and his face became one
large red swelling. Fearing, therefore, lest he should
be obliged to abandon the solitary life and return to
the monastery ; presuming in his faith, he trusted to
heal himself by the aid of those holy men whose house
he dwelt in, and whose holy life he sought to imitate ;
for he steeped a piece of the skin above mentioned in
water, and washed his face therewith ; whereupon, the
swelling was immediately healed, and the cicatrice dis-
appeared. This I was told, in the first instance, by a
religious priest of the monastery of Jarrow, who said
that he well knew Felgeld's face to have been in the
deformed and diseased state which I have described,
and that he saw it and felt it with his hand through
the window after it was cured. Felgeld afterwards
told me the same thing, confirming the report of the
priest, and asserting that his face was ever afterwards
free from the blemish during the many years that he
passed in that place. This he ascribed to the agency
of the Almighty grace, which both in this world heals
many, and in the world to come will heal all the mala-
dies of our minds and bodies, and, satisfying our desires
after good things, will crown us for ever with its mercy
and compassion."
It is better to use a contemporary's words than our
HERMIT AT FARNE. 00
own, where the former are attainable ; for this reason,
I make a second quotation from the same revered
writer who has furnished the above narrative. The
passage occurs in the beginning of the fifth book of the
Ecclesiastical History :
" The venerable Ethelwald," he says, " who had re-
ceived the priesthood in the monastery of Bipon, and
had, by actions worthy of the same, sanctified his holy
office, succeeded the man of God, Cuthbert, in the
exercise of a solitary life, having practised the same
before he was bishop, in the isle of Fame. For the
certain demonstration of the life which he led, and his
merit, I will relate one miracle of his, which was told
me by one of these brothers for and on whom the same
was wrought ; viz. Guthfrid, the venerable servant
and priest of Christ, who afterwards, as abbot, presided
over the brethren of the same church of Lindisfarne,
in which he had been educated.
" ' I came,' says he, ' to the island of Fame, with
two others of the brethren, to speak with the most
reverend father, Ethelwald. Having been refreshed
with his discourse, and taken his blessing, as we were
returning home, on a sudden, when we were in the
midst of the sea, the fair weather which was wafting
us over was checked, and there ensued so great and
dismal a tempest, that neither the sails nor oars were
of any use to us, nor had we any thing to expect but
death. After long struggling with the wind and waves
to no effect, we looked behind us, to see whether it
were practicable at least to recover the island from
whence we came, but we found ourselves on all sides
so enveloped in the storm, that there was no hope of
escaping. But looking out as far as we could see, we
observed, on the island of Fame, father Ethelwald, be-
loved of God, come out of his cavern to watch our
56 ST. EDELWALD.
course ; for, hearing the noise of the storm and raging
sea, he was come out to see what would become of us.
When he beheld us in distress and despair, he bowed
his knees to the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, in
prayer for our life and safety ; upon which, the swell-
ing sea was calmed, so that the storm ceased on all
sides, and a fair wind attended us to the very shore.
When we had landed, and had dragged upon the shore
the small vessel that brought us, the storm, which had
ceased a short time for our sake, immediately returned,
and raged continually during the whole day ; so that it
plainly appeared that the brief cessation of the storm
had been granted from Heaven, at the request of the
man of God, in order that we might escape.' "
Edelwald lived twelve years in his (to human eyes)
dreary and forlorn abode ; dreary and forlorn, most
assuredly, if he had no companions, no converse, no
subjects of thought, besides those which the external
world supplied to him. On his death, A. D. 699 or
700, his remains were taken to Lindisfarne, and buried
by the side of his master, St. Cuthbert. Here they
remained for near two centuries, when the ravages of
the Danes in the neighbourhood frightened the holy
household ; and Erdulf, Bishop, and Edred, Abbot of
Lindisfarne, migrated with the bodies of their saints to
the mainland. For a hundred years, the sacred relics
of Oswald, Aidan, Cuthbert, Bede, Edbert, Edfrid,
Ethelwold, and Edelwald, had no settled habitation ;
but on the transference of the see from Lindisfarne
to Durham, at the end of the tenth century, they were
brought home again, under the shadow of the new
Cathedral. There they remained till the changes of
the sixteenth century, when, with the relics of Cuth-
bert, Bede, Aidan, and the rest, they disappeared.
A LEGEND OF
. Mtttelin,
HERMIT, AND PATRON OF STAFFORD,
TOWARDS A. D. 800.
BRIGHT luminaries in the heavens, which guide the
traveller across the desert, are found, when viewed
through a glass, to be double stars, not single, though
each seems to be one. Suns which reign separately in
their separate systems, far apart from each other, min-
gle their rays, as we see them, and blend their colours,
and are called by one name. They are confused, yet
they are used by the wayfaring man, who is not hurt
by his mistake.
So it is with the beacon light which the seaman
dimly discerns from afar. It has no definite outline,
and occupies no distinct spot in the horizon ; it can-
not be located amid the haze and gloom, but it gives
him direction and confidence.
So is it with his landmarks by day ; one, two, three
high trees are set on a hill, nay, when close, we can
count a dozen, yet in the distance they look like one,
nor can we persuade ourselves that they are many.
What matters it to those who are tossing at sea, so long
as they remind them of the green home which they
are approaching, and shape their course towards it ?
58 ST. BETTELIX,
And so with the herbs of the field ; we call them
simples, and we use them in medicine as such, and
they do certainly put disease and pain to flight. Yet
they are compounded of many elements, and some
of these, not the whole plant, is the true restorative.
Often we do not know that this is the case ; but,
even when we do, we are not nearer to the knowledge
of what the healing element is, or how it may be
detached and used separately. We cannot extract the
true virtue of the medicine from the impure drug, and
we think it better to administer it in combination with
other elements which may be useless, or even inconve-
nient, than to wait till we can duly analyze it.
And to take a more sacred instance, and more closely
connected with the subject to which these remarks are
tending. It has before now happened, that profane or
fanatical violence has broken in upon the relics of the
Saints, and scattered them over land and water, or
mixed them with the dust of the earth, or even with
the mouldering bones of common men, nay of heretics
and sinners. Yet could it not destroy the virtue of the
relics ; it did but disperse and conceal them. They
did more, they were seen less. What says St. Basil
about the Forty Martyrs, who were burned, and whose
relics were cast into the river, in the Licinian persecu-
tion ? " These are they who have taken occupation of
this our country, as a chain of fortresses, and secure
her against hostile invasion, not throwing themselves
upon one point, but quartered upon many homes and
the ornament of many places."
And what the malice of foes has done to the bodies
of the Saints, the inadvertence or ignorance of friends
has too often done to their memories. Through the twi-
light of ages, in the mist of popular credulity or enthu-
HERMIT AT STAFFORD. 59
siasm, amid the ambitious glare of modern lights, dark-
ening what they would illustrate, the stars of the firma-
ment gleam feebly and fitfully ; and we see a something
divine, yet we cannot say what it is : we cannot say
what, or where, or how it is, without uttering a mis-
take. There is no room for the exercise of reason we
are in the region of faith. We must believe and act,
where we cannot discriminate ; we must be content to
take the history as sacred on the whole, and leave the
verification of particulars, as unnecessary for devotion,
and for criticism impossible.
This applies of course in no small degree to the
miraculous incidents which occur in the history of the
Saints. " Since what is extraordinary," says Bollandus,
" usually strikes the mind and is impressed on the
memory in an especial way, it follows that writers about
the Saints at times have been able to collect together
nothing but their miracles, their virtues and other hea-
venly endowments being altogether forgotten ; and
these miracles, often so exaggerated or deformed (as
the way of men is) with various adjuncts and circum-
stances, that by some persons they are considered as
nothing short of old women's tales. Often the same
miracles are given to various persons ; and though
God's unbounded goodness and power certainly need
not refuse this Saint the same favour which He has
already bestowed upon that, (for He applies the same
chastisements and punishments to the sins of various
persons) yet what happened to one has often in matter
of fact been attributed to others, first by word of
mouth, then in writing, through fault of the faculty of
memory, which is but feeble and easily confused in the
case of the many ; so that when inquiries are made
about a Saint, they attribute to him what they reniem-
60 ST. BETTELIN,
ber to have heard at some time of another, especially
since the mind is less retentive of names than of things.
In this way, then, while various writers at one and the
same time have gone by popular fame, because there
were no other means of information, it has come to pass
that a story has been introduced into the history of
various Saints, which really belongs to one only, and
to him perhaps not in the manner in which it is re-
ported.
" Moreover it often happens that, without denying
that a certain miracle may have occurred, yet the occa-
sion and mode of its occurrence, as reported, may rea-
sonably create a doubt whether this particular conde-
scension, be it to man's necessity or his desire, be-
came the majesty of the Eternal. At the same time,
since His goodness is wonderful, and we are not able to
measure either the good things which He has prepared
in heaven for the holy souls He loves, or the extent of
His favours towards them on earth, such narratives arc
not to be rejected at hazard, though they seem to us
incredible ; but rather to be reverently received, in
that they profess to issue from that Fountain of Divine
goodness, from which all our happiness must be de-
rived. Suppose the very things were not done ; yet
greater things might have been done, and have been
done at other times. Beware then of denying them on
the ground that they could not or ought not to have
been done."
These remarks apply among others to St. Bettelin,
whose brief history is now to be given, though mir-
acles are not its characteristic. He is the Patron of
the town of Stafford, where he was once held in
great honour ; but little certain is known of him,
down to his very name. Various writers speak of Bet-
HERMIT AT STAFFORD. 61
telin, Beccelin, Barthelm, Bertelin ; whether he owned
all these at once, or whether but some of them,
whether a portion of his history belongs to another
person, or whether it is altogether fabulous, is not
known. A life of him has come down to us, which is
attributed to Alexander, a Prior of Canons Regular
of St. Augustine, in the beginning of the thirteenth
century ; but, though this Prior is well spoken of, little
credit can be placed in the letter of its statements.
Two other writers, Ingulphus and Felix, contain inci-
dental mention of him, which is more trustworthy.
We will put these notices together, under the guidance
of the learned Suyskin, the Bollandist.
Bettelin was a disciple of St. Guthlake's, in the
eighth century, and one of four who followed him in a
hermit's life, in the island of Croyland, on the southern
border of Lincolnshire. Cissa had been a pagan, of
noble blood and great in the world ; but had left all to
follow Christ and St. Guthlake, and succeeded him as
Abbot. Till the Danes came, he lay in a high marble
tomb, on the right of his spiritual father in the Abbey
of Croyland. Egbert was more in St. Guthlake's con-
fidence than any of his brethren ; he may have been
his confessor. Tatwin had formerly been ferryman at
the passage from the mainland to the Island. These,
with Bettelin, who made the fourth, and came nearer
the Saint's person than the rest, lived in separate cot-
tages, close to Guthlake's oratory and under his
guidance. All this we learn from Ingulphus, himself
Abbot of Croyland, towards the end of the eleventh
century.
Something of a painful and a guilty nature hangs
over the first years of Bettelin ; legend and history
agree in testifying as much as this. It is sometimes
62 ST. BETTELIN,
said that no story is without foundation ; and at any
rate this maxim is so often true as to make it fair in a
particular case to be biassed primd facie by such re-
ports as are in circulation, though in details or in the
letter they may be simply untrue. Thus an alleged
fact against a man's character may be clearly disproved,
and yet may be the spontaneous result of a general and
prevalent impression founded on real facts. A states-
man may in his day be popularly considered timid,
when he is but prudent, or crafty, when he is but far-
seeing ; or a monarch indulgent and paternal, though
he is weak ; or a commander cruel and relentless, be-
cause he is stern in manner and determined in purpose.
Here is a basis of truth, and a superstructure of error.
A rumour is spread that political parties are breaking
up, or that some illustrious person is estranged, or that
some foreign influence is at work in high places. It
may be formally and totally and truly contradicted ; it
may be possible to explain it, to show how it originated,
to refer it to the malice or the impertinence of this or
that individual : and yet, though not a truth, it may be
the shadow of a truth, unsubstantial, yet attached to it,
the exponent of facts which discover themselves in the
event. And in like manner the author of a marvellous
Life may be proved to a demonstration to be an ignorant,
credulous monk, or a literary or ecclesiastical gossip ;
to be preaching to us his dreams, or to have saturated
himself with popular absurdities ; he may be cross-
examined, and made to contradict himself ; or his own
story, as it stands, may be self-destructive ; and yet he
may be the index of a hidden fact, and may symbolize
a history to which he does not testify.
Now as to St. Bettelin ; some cloud, it has been
said, hung about his early years, which made him ever
HERMIT AT STAFFORD. 63
after a penitent. A wild extravagant tale is recorded
by Prior Alexander. We are told how that he was a
king's son, and noble in person, and a good Catholic ; and
how he shrunk from the licence of his father's court ;
and how, to preserve his purity, he went over to Ire-
land, where he was received by a certain king or chief-
tain, who had a fair daughter ; and how in a strange
land he found the temptation, and fell beneath the sin,
which had frightened him from his own. He carried
off his beautiful mistress to England, and sought for
shelter and concealment in the woods. A wretched
childbirth followed, and a tragical issue. While the
father was seeking assistance, wolves devoured mother
and infant. Bettelin remained a penitent in the wild ;
till St. Guthlake, who was leaving Repton in Derby-
shire, where tie had entered into both clerical and mo-
nastic orders, took him with him to Croyland.
Such is the fable ; but it so happens that we seem
to be able to produce in this instance the real facts of
the case, of which it is but the symbol and record ;
and though very different from the above, yet they are
so far like it, as, alas ! to be even more criminal and
dreadful than it. One Felix, a contemporary of St.
Guthlake, wrote the life of the latter, shortly after his
death, from the information of the Saint's disciples.
Among these was Bettelin ; from him, who was at
that time living with St. Guthlake on the most familiar
terms, Felix learned the account of St. Guthlake's last
days upon earth. Now Felix also tells us, in an earlier
passage of the Saint's life, what the crime of Bettelin
was ; and, as it would appear, from Bettelin's own
mouth ; for there was no one else to tell him. If this be
so, we have both a warrant for the authenticity of the
story, and a great evidence of St. Bettelin's humility.
04 ST. BETTELIN,
" There was a certain clerk," says Felix, " by name
Beccelin, who offered himself for a servant to that
great man St. Gutlilake, and proposed to live to God
holily, under his training. Into this person's heart
the evil spirit entered, and began to puff him up with
the pestilential conceits of vain glory ; and next,
after he had thus seduced him, he proceeded to suggest
to him to seize the deadly weapon, and to kill the
master, under whose training he had begun to live to
God, with the object, after taking him off, of succeed-
ing to his place, and receiving the veneration of kings
and princes. Accordingly, on a day when the afore-
named clerk had come, (as he was wont on the twen-
tieth day,) to shave Guthlake, the man of God, afflicted
by monstrous madness, and thirsting with exceeding
desire for his blood, he made up his mind to murder
him.
" Then the Saint of God, Guthlake, to whom the
Lord did never fail to impart a prescience of things to
come, having cognizance of the guilt of this new wick-
edness, began to question him. ' O, my Beccelin P he
said, ' why under this carnal breast hidest thou the old
enemy ? Why not vomit forth these pestilential waters
of bitter poison ? For I know that thou art deceived by
the evil spirit ; wherefore confess the guilty medita-
tions which our enemy, the accuser of the human race,
has sown within you, and turn away from them.' On
this, Beccelin, understanding that he had been seduced
by the evil spirit, cast himself at holy Guthlake's feet,
acknowledging his sin with tears, and humbly asking
pardon. And the man of blessed memory not only
forgave him the fault, but even promised him his aid in
future troubles."
Thus speaks a contemporary author, who knew the
HERMIT AT STAFFORD. 65
parties ; and it is certainly a remarkable passage in St.
Guthlake's history, though that does not here concern
us, that through life, up to his very death-bed, he was
waited on in his bed-room by one who had all but
turned the barber's razor into a weapon for his destruc-
tion. There is nothing to show that Bettelin did not
continue to shave him, as before this occurrence. As
to Bettelin himself, this part of his history reminds us
of St. Brice, though the offence of the latter was of a far
less serious die. Brice succeeded St. Martin in the see
of Tours ; but in St. Martin's life-time, his proud boyish
spirit showed itself in a scorn and ridicule of the Saint,
which approached to the sin of the children who mocked
Elisha.
If Bettelin was called to a stern penitence for this
great sin, his master, who was to have been the victim
of the sin, became a pattern for the penitence. " Re-
collecting," says Prior Alexander, "that the ancient
fathers went about their deserts in sheep-skins and
goat-skins, not in linen or cloth, but made use of goat-
skins, raw and untanned, conforming themselves also
to our first parents, who, on their rejection from the
paradise of pleasure, received from God coats made of
skins, and knowing that the kingdom of God is not
meat and drink, they lived on barley bread and muddy
water, with great abstinence." On St. Guthlake's
death, Bettelin took the news, by the Saint's previous
directions, to St. Bega, Guthlake's sister.
What happened to Bettelin after that event does
not clearly appear. Ingulphus says that he remained
and died in Croyland ; and he speaks of the marble
tomb, which contained his relics, as well as Cissa's,
near St. Cuthbert, in the Abbey of Croyland. And
this is not incompatible altogether with the legend
F
66 ST. BETTELIN,
which connects him with the town of Stafford, and
which is as follows :
Where the town now stands, the river Sow formed
in those times an island which was called Bethney.
Here St. Bettelin stationed himself for some years,
and led a life so holy, that the place which profited
by his miraculous gifts in his lifetime, grew into a town
under his patronage after his death.
A wild, yet not unpleasing, fable is left us as a
record of the Saint's history in this retreat. He had
concealed his name when he took possession of the
island ; and on his father's death, who was king of those
parts, the usurper of St. Bettelin's throne determined,
without knowing who he was, and from inbred hatred,
as it appears, of religion, to eject him from his island
hermitage. However, perhaps the romantic narrative
which is now coming will run better in rhyme ; so we
set off thus :
St. Bettelin's wonted prayers are o'er
And his matins all are said,
Why kneeleth he still on his clay-cold floor
By the side of his iron bed ?
Ah ! well may he kneel to Christ in prayer,
For nought is around him but woe and fear ;
By to-morrow's sun the Saint must roam
Far from his cell and his long-lov'd home.
But who would drive this hermit good
From his islet home and his rough old wood ?
He is no man who hath sought the wild
In a wayward mood like a frolicsome child,
Who hath wander'd away from his mother's side
Deep in the merry greenwood to hide.
A golden crown he had cast away
To watch all night and to fast all day ;
HERMIT AT STAFFORD. 67
He was of those whom the Lord doth drive
To the weary wild with devils to strive,
For the banner' d Cross must be every where,
Wherever the fiend doth make his lair,
And devils trembled and angels smil'd
When the hermit knelt in the weary wild ;
While the peasant arose his beads to tell
When the hermit rang his vesper bell.
But what hath the world to do with him,
That it grudgeth his home by the river's brim ?
Hath it not woods and streams at will ?
But so it hath been and it must be still,
Earth may be broad and its bosom wide,
But the world cannot rest with the cross by its side ;
And the king hath said with a scornful smile,
" The hermit hath chosen a fair green isle,
By the river clasp' d around ;
And the turf is soft round his sweet chapelle,
I warrant too he sleepeth well
To that gushing river's sound ;
A Saint should not dwell in so fair a scene ;
And that river sweet with its islet green,
I swear by high heaven it shall be mine
In spite of this hermit St. Betteline."
And he bade the hermit prove his right
To his islet home in a deadly fight,
And if no champion can be found
He must quit by to-morrow this holy ground.
And who is there for Christ the Lord
To don his armour and draw his sword ?
And will not a knight put lance in rest
To do this hermit's poor behest ?
If for Christ they will not fight,
Foul shame on England's chivalry,
Their dancing plume and armour bright
Are but summer pageantry.
ST. I:I:TTI;U\,
But Id tin- wordings p;iss along,
A Saint in prayer is wondrous strong.
" Lord," lie saith, lt I do not grieve
This sweet place Cor aye to leave,
For if Thy love abide with me,
Barren dill' or ilowcry lea,
All is well that pleaseth Thee ;
l>ut for Thy glory's sake ari < ,
Cast down tlie strong, confound the wise. '
lie rose from his knee, and then then- stole
A low sweet voice to his inmost soul,
" Man to Saints and Angels dear,
('hrist. in heaven hath heard thy prayer/'
Oh ! how that whisper deep and calm,
Dropp'd on his weary heart like halm.
Then St. Betteline rose, for the morning red
Through his latticed window was sweetly shed.
On the' red tippM willow the dew-drop gloweth,
At his feet the happy river iloweth,
And sweetly the lightly-passing br.
Bendeth the wood anemones,
And all things seenfd to his heart to tell,
Thou shalt ring again thy chapel bell.
Then a man rode up to his lowly door,
( )ne he had never seen before,
A low mean man, and his armour bright
Look'd all too large for his frame so slight ;
But his eye was dear and his voice was sweet,
And it made St. Betteline's bosom beat
As he spoke, and thus his greeting ran,
kl In the name of the I loly Trinity,
Hermit, I come to light lor thee."
lt Now ('hrist bless thce, tbou little man,"
'Twus thus St. PieltelilK 1 said,
And he murmurM, as meekly he bowM his liead,
" The brightest swe.nl may be staiif d with rust,
The horse and his rider be flung to the dust,
But in < 'hrist alone I put my trust."
1 1 Mi:. MIT AT STAM'OKl*. (','.)
And then to tin- lists together they hied,
Whore the king was seated in pomp and in pride,
And the courtiers cried with a merry shout,
<l The hermit hath brought us a champion stout."
Hut, hark ! through the forest a trumpet rang,
All harshly it rose with a dissonant clang;
It had a wild and unearthly tone,
It, seem'd by no Christian warrior blown,
And into the lists came a giant form
On a courser as black as a gathering storm ;
fiis vi/or was clos'd, and no mortal sight
S'lYr saw the face of this wondrous wight,
Hut his red eye glow'd through that, iron shroud,
As the lightning dotli rend a midnight cloud ;
So sable a knight and courser, I ween,
In merry Midland never were seen ;
A paynim knight he seem'd to be,
From a Moorish country beyond the sea.
Then loud laugh'd the giant as on he came
With his armour bright and his eye of flame,
And he lookM on his rival full scornfully,
F >r he hardly came up to the giant's knee ;
Jlis vi/or was up and it show'd to view
His fair long hair and his eye of blue ;
Instead of a war-horse he did bestride
A palfrey white which a girl might ride ;
lint, on his features there glcam'd the while
That nameless grace and unearthly smile,
Stern, yet, as holy virgin's faint,
Which good old monks have lov'd to paint
On the wan visage of a Soldier Saint.
And his trumpet tone rung loud and clear
With a thrilling sound on the 'wilderM e;ir,
And each bad man in his inmost heart,
I'e knew not why, gave a sudden start.
The paynim had laugh'd with a scornful sound
As he look'd for an easy prey,
7Q ST. BETTELIN.
And he wheel'd his gallant courser round
And address'd him to the fray.
But what hath the dwarfish warrior done ?
He hath sat like a warrior carv'd in stone,
He mov'd not his head or his armed heel,
He mov'd not his hand to grasp the steel.
His long lance was pointing upwards still,
And the wind as it mov'd his banner at will
Show'd work'd on the folds an image good,
The spotless lamb and the holy rood.
But men say that his stature so dwarfish and small,
None could tell how, seem'd stately and tall,
And all at once on his foe he turn'd
A face that with hidden lustre burn'd ;
Ah ! what aileth thee now, thou sable knight ?
Hath that trumpet tone unnerv'd thee quite
That the spear doth shake in thy hand for fear ?
The courser is stopp'd in his wild career,
And the rider is rolling afar on the ground ;
His armour doth ring with a hollow sound,
From the bars of his vizor a voice is heard,
But no man could tell that fearful word,
'Twas the cry of a fiend in agony,
Then vanish'd from earth his steed and he ;
The black knight had fallen before the glance
Of that angelic countenance.
But how hath the angel vanish'd away ?
Oh ! how he went no mortal could say,
But a wild shriek rung through the misty air,
And each man said to his neighbour in fear
"St. Michael hath smitten the fiend with his spear."
What makes the legend still more extravagant is,
that the miracle does not seem to have answered the
purpose of maintaining St. Bettelin in his insular po-
sition. For the Saint, in Plot's words, " disturbed
HERMIT AT STAFFORD. 71
by some that envied his happiness, removed into some
desert mountainous places, where he ended his life,
leaving Bethnei to others, who afterwards built it, and
called it Stafford, there being a shallow place in the
river hereabout, that could easily be passed with the
help of a staff only." Ethelfleda built Stafford, the
widow of Ethelred, earl of Mercia, in 918. " Now
whereabout," Plot continues, " this desert place should
be, that St. Bertelline went to, though histories are
silent, yet I have some grounds to think that it might
be about Throwley, Ham, and Dovedale ; and that this
was the St. Bertram who has a well, an ash, and a
tomb at Ham."
Yet, after all, some facts are needed, to account for
the honour in which St. Bettelin was held at Stafford.
Those facts, however, are not found in history. We
know little or nothing more, than that he was the
patron of the town, where a Church was built un-
der his invocation. The fame of miracles would of
course explain an increase of devotion shown to him
there, could we once trace the circumstances which
first introduced his name ecclesiastically into the place.
Of these miracles wrought in his Church, the record
of one remains, appended at a later date to the history
of Prior Alexander, and its matter-of-fact tone cu-
riously contrasts with the wild fable already related,
which goes immediately before it.
" There was," says the anonymous writer, " in the
town of Stafford, a man named Willmot, a cook by
trade. This man, for many years, almost sixteen, had
lost his sight, so as not to be able to go out of doors
without some one to lead him. At length, after many
years, he was brought to St. Bertellin's Church in the
same town, for the purpose of recovery ; and while he
72 ST. BETTELIN.
knelt in prayer, before the altar of St. Bertellin, and
the priest, whose name was John Chrostias, offered up
the Eucharist in the mass to the Supreme Father, the
aforementioned blind man regained his sight, and first
saw that Venerable Sacrament, rendering thanks to the
Supreme God, who had renewed His ancient miracles,
for the love of blessed Bertellin. This miracle took
place in the year of our Lord 1386."
And this is all that is known, and more than all,
yet nothing to what the angels know, of the life of a
servant of God, who sinned and repented, and did
penance and washed out his sins, and became a Saint,
and reigns with Christ in heaven.
ot Jt Heat
INTRODUCTION.
IT is not pretended that every fact in the following
Legend can be supported on sound historical evidence.
With the materials which we have, it would not only
be presumptuous, but impossible, to attempt to deter-
mine any thing with any certainty, respecting them ;
how much is true, how much fiction. It is enough
that we find them in the writings of men who were far
better able to know the certainty of what they said
than we can be. At the same time, there are certain
features in the authorities to which we refer, which
seem to call for some particular notice. There are five
old Lives of St. Neot extant ; one in Saxon, dating
about a hundred and fifty years after his death ; the
others, in Latin, written at various subsequent periods.
Now of these, the first thing we remark is a striking
disagreement in the details of the several narratives.
The same sharp clear outline of a character is preserved
throughout, but the filling up of the picture seems to
vary with the taste and purpose of the writer. The
Saxon Life gives one miracle ; the early Latin Lives
give others ; while Ramsay of Croyland, the only one
74 ST. NEOT.
of them who proposes to relate ascertained facts,
omits all except the last appearance in the battle at
Ethendun, and acknowledges openly that, however true
the Cornish Legends may be, he cannot find sufficient
evidence to justify him in giving them a place in a
History constructed as his. Further, while all the
others have fallen into the grave anachronism of
placing St. Dunstan at Glastonbury, at the period of
St. Neot's residence there, Ramsay alone has avoided
this. Now of course this sort of scrupulousness infi-
nitely enhances the value of his testimony for what he
does say ; but it also indicates a doubt on his part, of
the entire credibility in all their parts of his materials.
And we observe again, of the other Lives, that all
their facts are related with extreme minuteness and
accuracy of detail. Now this, if not the highest evi-
dence in their favour, (which it may be) would seem to
indicate that they allowed themselves a latitude in
their narratives, and made free use of their imagination
to give poetic fulness to their compositions. In other
words, their Lives are not so much strict biographies,
as myths, edifying stories compiled from tradition,
and designed not so much to relate facts, as to produce
a religious impression on the mind of the hearer.
Under the most favourable circumstances, it is scarcely
conceivable that uninspired men could write a faithful
history of a miraculous life. Even ordinary history,
except mere annals, is all more or less fictitious ; that
is, the facts are related, not as they really happened,
but as they appeared to the writer ; as they happen to
illustrate his views or support his prejudices. And if
this is so of common facts, how much more so must it
be when all the power of the marvellous is thrown in
to stimulate the imagination. But to see fully the dif-
INTRODUCTION. 75
ficulties under which the writers of these Lives must
have laboured, let us observe a few of the ways in
which we all, and time for us, treat the common his-
tory and incidents of life.
First ; We all write Legends. Little as we may be
conscious of it, we all of us continually act on the very
same principle which made the Lives of Saints such as
we find them ; only perhaps less poetically.
Who has not observed in himself, in his ordinary
dealings with the facts of every-day life, with the say-
ings and doings of his acquaintance, in short, with
every thing which comes before him as a fact, a dispo-
sition to forget the real order in which they appear,
and re-arrange them according to his theory of how
they ought to be ? Do we hear of a generous self-
denying action, in a short time the real doer and it are
forgotten ; it has become the property of the noblest
person we know ; so a jest we relate of the wittiest
person, frivolity of the most frivolous, and so on ; each
particular act we attribute to the person we conceive
most likely to have been the author of it. And this
does not arise from any wish to leave a false impression
scarcely from carelessness ; but only because facts re-
fuse to remain bare and isolated in our memory ; they
will arrange themselves under some law or other ; they
must illustrate something to us some character some
principle or else we forget them. Facts are thus per-
petually, so to say, becoming unfixed and re-arranged
in a more conceptional order. In this way, we find
fragments of Jewish history in the Legends of Greece,
stories from Herodotus become naturalized in the tra-
dition of early Rome ; and the mythic exploits of the
northern heroes, adopted by the biographers of our
Saxon kings. So, uncertain traditions of miracles,
76 ST. NEOT.
with vague descriptions of name and place, are handed
down from generation to generation, and each set of
people, as they pass into their minds, naturally group
them round the great central figure of their admiration
or veneration, be he hero or be he saint. And so
with the great objects of national interest. Alfred
"England's darling" the noblest of the Saxon kings,
became mythic almost before his death ; and forthwith,
every institution that Englishmen most value, of law
or church, became appropriated to him. He divided
England into shires ; he established trial by jury ; he
destroyed wolves, and made the country so secure, that
golden bracelets hung untouched in the open road.
And when Oxford was founded, a century was added
to its age ; and it was discovered that Alfred had laid
the first stone of the first college, and that St. Neot
had been the first Professor of Theology.
2. Again even in these unpoetical times, go where we
will among the country villages, and we still find
superstition strong as ever, we must still confess that
the last victory of civilization is not yet won, and
romance is yet lingering in the embrace of nature.
The wild moor, the rock, the river, and the wood, have
still their legend, and the Fairy and the Saint yet find
a home when the earth is wild and beautiful. Of course
they will go with light and modern education, and per-
haps it is as well that it should be so. Even Plato
finds that Boreas and Orithuia is an allegory. But it
may still be asked whether there are not times when
the most civilized, the most enlightened philosopher,
looking at Nature as he has to do through his know-
ledge of Law, and Theory, and Principle, has not ex-
perienced very strange sensations in scenes of striking
beauty, in a thunder storm, or at the sight of the most
INTRODUCTION. 77
familiar place in the light of an unusual sky ? Who
is there that' has searched and explored and dwindled
as he searched so low as never with Wordsworth
'to have " felt a sense sublime
Of something far more deeply interfused,
Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns,
And the round ocean, and the living air,
And the blue sky, and in the mind of man.
A motion and a spirit that" impels
All thinking things, all objects of all thought
And rolls through all things "
If there be any with power of mind so great that they
can keep these deep emotions fresh and pure, and yet
leave them purely spiritual, let them do so. Such is
not the lot of ordinary men. For them at least Ploti-
nus expressed the very condition of their apprehending
them at all when he said, " that those only could be
said to have realized the spiritual, who had clothed it
in form of sense." And so ever children, and child-
like ages, who make up for the want of vigour in the
understanding by the strength of their faith and the
fervour of poetry and imagination, go out and robe
these vanishing feelings in shape and colour. The old
Greeks saw Naiads sporting in every fountain, and
when the breezes played among the branches of the
forest, they heard the Zephyrs whispering to the
Dryads ; and the Legends of Saints which still cling
to the scenes of their earthly glory, are but Christian
expressions of the same human instinct.
And those illusions, which excite the scorn
Or move the pity of unthinking minds,
Are they not mainly outward ministers
Of Inward Conscience ? with whose service charged
78 ST. NEOT.
They come and go, appeared and disappear ;
Diverting evil purposes, remorse
Awakening, chastening an intemperate grief
Or pride of heart abating : and whene'er
For less important ends those phantoms move,
Who would forbid them if their presence serve
Among wild mountains and unpeopled heaths,
Filling a space else vacant to exalt
The form of Nature and enlarge her powers. 1
3. Time in another way plays strange tricks with
facts, and is ever altering, shifting, and even changing
their nature in our memory. Every man's past life is
becoming mythic to him ; we cannot call up again the
feelings of our childhood, only we know that what then
seemed to us the bitterest misfortunes, we have since
learnt by change of character or circumstance, to think
very great blessings ; and even when there is no change,
and were they to recur again, they are such as we
should equally repine at, yet by mere lapse of time
sorrow is turned to pleasure, and the sharpest pang at
present becomes the most alluring object of our retro-
spect. The sick bed, the school trial, loss of friends,
pain and grief of every kind, become rounded off and
assume a soft and beautiful grace. " Time dissipates
to shining aether the hard angularity of facts ;" the
harshest of them are smoothed and chastened off in the
past like the rough mountains and jagged rocks in the
distant horizon. And so it is with every other event
of our lives ; read a letter we wrote ten years ago, and
how impossible we find it to recognize the writer in our
altered selves. Incident after incident rises up and
bides its day, and then sinks back into the landscape.
1 Wordsworth, vol. vi. p. 145.
INTRODUCTION. 79
It changes by distance, and we change by age. While
it was present it meant one thing, now it means an-
other, and to-morrow perhaps something else on the
point of vision alters. Even old Nature endlessly and
patiently reproducing the same forms, the same beauties,
cannot reproduce in us the same emotions we remember
in our childhood. Then all was Fairy-land ; now time
and custom have deadened our sense, and
The things which we have seen we now can see no more.
This is the true reason why men people past ages
with the superhuman and the marvellous. They feel
their own past was indeed something miraculous, and
they cannot adequately represent their feelings except
by borrowing from another order of beings.
Thus age after age springs up, and each succeeds to
the inheritance of all that went before it ; but each age
has its own feelings, its own character, its own necessi-
ties ; therefore receiving the accumulations of litera-
ture and history, it absorbs and fuses and remodels
them to meet the altered circumstances. The histories
of Greece and Rome are not yet exhausted, every new
historian finds something more in them. Alcibiades
and Catiline are not to us what they were to Thucydi-
des and Sallust, even though we use their eyes to look
at them. So it has been with facts, and so it always
shall be. It holds with the lives of individuals, it holds
with histories even where there is contemporary wri-
ting, and much more than either, when as with many
of the Lives of the Saints, we can only see them as
they appeared through the haze of several generations
with no other light but oral tradition.
And with the subject of the present memoir there is
80 ST. NEOT.
yet a further difficulty. The authority for the Cornish
Miracles, at least the early ones, is only the word of
his servant Barius. Now all accounts agree that St.
Neot strictly charged him to mention none of them
until his death, so that at any rate a long period must
have elapsed before they could be committed to writing
at all. Whether this was done however by any one
before the Saxon Life which we have was written, it is
impossible to tell. The writer makes no mention of any
other source but tradition. There may or may not
have been memorials preserved in the monastery ; but
if not the very earliest written account cannot date
earlier than a hundred and fifty years after his death.
Thus stands the case then. A considerable period
has elapsed from the death of' a Saint, and certain per-
sons undertake to write an account of his very remark-
able life. We cannot suppose them ignorant of the
general difficulties of obtaining evidence on such sub-
jects ; what materials they worked with we have no
means of ascertaining ; they do not mention any.
Now supposing them to have been really as vague as
they seem, let us ask ourselves what we should have
done under similar circumstances. Of course we should
attempt no more than what we do as it is, if we could
not write a Life we should write a Legend. And it is
mere assumption to take for granted that either they or
any other under similar circumstances ever intended
more. And this view seems confirmed if we look to
their purpose. The monks of the middle ages were not
mere dry annalists, who strung together hard catalogues
of facts for the philosophers of modern Europe to an-
alyze and distil and resolve into principles. Biography
and history were with them simple and direct methods
of teaching character. After all, the facts of a man's
INTRODUCTION. 81
life are but a set of phenomena, frail weary weeds in
which the idea of him clothes itself. Endless as the
circumstances of life are, the forms in which the same
idea may develope itself, given a knowledge of the me-
chanic forces, and we can calculate the velocities of
bodies under any conceivable condition. The smallest
arc of a curve is enough for the mathematician to com-
plete the figure. Take the character therefore and
the powers of a man for granted, and it is very ignorant
criticism to find fault with a writer because he embodies
them in this or that fact, unless we can be sure he
intended to leave a false impression.
What we have been saying then comes to this.
Here are certain facts put before us, of the truth or
falsehood of which we have no means of judging. We
know that such things have happened frequently both
among the Jews and in the history of the Church ; and
therefore there is no a priori objection to them. On
the other hand we are all disposed to be story tellers ;
it is next to impossible for tradition to keep facts to-
gether in their original form for any length of time ;
and in those days at any rate there was a strong poet-
ical as well as religious feeling among the people.
Therefore as the question, " were these things really
so ?" cannot be answered, it is no use to ask it. What
we should ask ourselves is, Have these things a mean-
ing ? Do they teach us any thing ? If they do, then as
far as we are concerned, it is no matter whether they
are true or not as facts ; if they do not, then let them
have all the sensible evidence of the events of yesterday,
and they are valueless.
A few remarks on the other authorities which we
have quoted, shall conclude this already too long pre-
face.
82 ST. NEOT.
The appearance at St. Peter's church at York is re-
lated in one of Alcuin's letters ; it is only a fragment
however, and preserved by William of Malmesbury, who
is the only authority for its genuineness. The story of
the enchanted raven is told by Asser, and is in that
part of his work which has never been questioned ; the
long passage however which is translated relating to
Alfred and St. Neot, there are some doubts about, as it
is not found in the earliest manuscript. That Ragnar
Lodbrog was murdered by Ella, and not in East Anglia
(as the Lives of St. Edmund say,) is concluded from
the Quida Lodbrokar, supposed to be the composition of
Aslauga, and the unanimous voice of the Danish histo-
rians.
What authority Ramsay had before him when wri-
ting his Life does not appear. It seems clear however
from the way in which he speaks, that he had such
(beyond what has come down to us) at least for the
Ethendun miracle. His account of this is entirely
supported by Nicholas Harpsfeld, who makes long ex-
tracts from certain Annals of Winton. But of these
Annals nothing is now known. They cannot be found,
nor is it known what or where they were.
Dr. Whitaker seems successfully to have proved the
identity of St. Neot and Prince Athelstan of Kent. All
the Old Lives state positively that Neot was the eldest
son of Ethelwulf. That in Latin verse (the oldest of
the Latin Lives) that he was brought up a soldier.
Again, all the old historians agree that Ethelwulf had
but five sons. Athelstan by an early marriage ; Alfred
and his three brothers by a late. These four last sat
successively on the throne of England, and were buried
at Winton. Athelstan remains alone unaccounted for.
He disappears at once after the great battle of Sand-
INTRODUCTION. 83
wich, in 851. Dr. Whitaker's elaborate Life of St.
Neot however will abundantly supply any further curi-
osity on this subject, as well as on the other very con-
troverted one, the removal of the relics into Hunting-
donshire, which we have not alluded to, not as ques-
tioning the fact, but because it is of no interest except
to an Antiquarian.
of t Heot
SECTION I.
PRINCE ATHELSTAN.
THE stars shone out on the bay of Sandwich, and the
song of revelry and mirth had succeeded to the war-
cry and the din of the battle. Twenty thousand North-
men lay dead and dying on the down and on the shore,
and the mead and the ale was flowing in the camp of
the Saxons. Yet was there one among the victors that
found no rest for his wearied spirit in the excitement
of the banquet ; the frantic festivities of his fierce
countrymen seemed not to him a fit mode of thanks-
giving, for deliverance from a ruthless heathen foe ;
and in the calm silence of the night, he sought to be
alone with his God, to offer praise to Him for that
day's success. The eagle plume in his bonnet declared
him of the royal race of Cerdic, and though his person
was small, almost diminutive, yet his noble gait and
princely bearing seemed to say he was no degenerate
son of that illustrious family ; it was Athelstan, the
Prince of Kent. Alone he stood upon the battle-field,
and would have prayed, but for the strange tumult of
PRINCE ATHELSTAN. 85
disordered thoughts that pressed upon his spirit ; there
lay the dead and the dying ; and the dull moan of
agony, and the sharp cry of the parting soul, mixed
harshly with the howl of the gathering wolves, and the
shrill scream of the eagle and the sea fowl. It seemed
to his fevered imagination, as if the spirits of hell were
flocking there for their prey ; for the warriors that lay
there were heathen Danes, Odin's sworn slaves, and
bound with a deadly curse to blot out the name of
Christian in Saxon England. Yet was there calm
above, in the bright Heaven ; and the stars that shone
so silently, and the peaceful sea, told him that, though
man was wild and evil, yet was creation still fair still
offered willing and obedient service to its Maker.
The very drunken music of the war banquet became
pure in the night air, and fell with softening cadence
on his ear. The ripple washed upon the shore in
measured intervals ; and he felt as he listened, that
there are powers above, which man knows not of ; a
will serenely working in this world of shadows, which is
not man's will, as the waves of time roll on, and break
upon the shores of eternity.
Well had the young prince borne him that day in
the battle ; where the strife had been the hottest, there
had risen loudest the war-cry of Kent ; his hand had
been red with slaughter, and he repented not of this,
for he had done but his duty as a faithful servant of
the Cross ; yet he felt it was an awful thing to disem-
body a living soul. He had that day won a great vic-
tory ; the storm-cloud that threatened to wrap his
country in fire and desolation, was for a time dispersed ;
yet he feared still, for he remembered the prophecy of
Alcuin. England had had warning that if she re-
pented not, she should be delivered into the hands of
86 ST. NEOT.
the Heathen ; and England had given no credence,
but went on still in wickedness.
Fifty years before had Lindisfarne felt the fury of
the Danes, and from amidst the smoking ruins rose the
prophet's voice :
1 " Behold how the shrine of St. Cuthbert runs red
with the blood of God's priests, and the most holy
place in Britain is given over a prey into the hands of
the heathen. What meaneth that shower of blood
which I saw fall from the north, under a clear sky, on
the altar of St. Peter's Church, at York, but that by
the northern nations blood shall be shed in this land ?"
And to Ethelward, Archbishop of Canterbury, he
had written further,
" Now, because of the scourge which has already fallen
on parts of this island, in which our fathers have lived
three hundred and forty years, I would have you know
what Gildas, the wisest of the Britons says, that these
same Britons, because the nobles were corrupt and ava-
ricious, the bishops indolent, the people luxurious and
profligate, had lost their country. Beware, therefore,
how these same vices grow to a head among ourselves ;
that God in His mercy may yet preserve to us in peace
and comfort, that land which He has thought fit to give
to us."
2 And the sun had been darkened, and awful signs
and wonders had been seen in the heavens ; huge
sheets of lightning rushing through the air, and whirl-
winds, and fiery dragons flying across the heavens, and
these tokens had been followed by a great famine ; yet
for all this Athelstan knew that these warning voices
1 Alcuin Opera, vol. i. Epist. 9, and 12.
2 Saxon Chronicle.
PRINCE ATHELSTAN. 87
had not been heard ; that England had grown worse
instead of better. The treacheries of Offa to St. Ethel-
bert were unavenged ; the blood of the young St.
Kenelm still cried to heaven. The Thanes of Wessex,
who had restrained themselves under the strong
hand of the despotic Egbert, under the feebler rule of
his successor, had broken loose into every kind of law-
less violence ; for Ethelwulf had been dragged unwil-
lingly from the cloister to the throne, and the serene
quiet of a monastery had unfitted him for the control
of a fierce and turbulent nobility. Abbeys and monas-
teries were everywhere falling into decay ; scarce any
but the poor and the ignorant were to be found among
their inmates. An unnatural schism divided the
Church, and the Saxons, and the British of Wales and
Cornwall, lay mutually each under the curse of the
other. The Church herself, leant for her support on
the arm of the flesh ; and bishop Aelstan, of Shir-
borne, was Athelstan's colleague in command that very
day. But Athelstan had been trained in the way he
should go, by the venerable St. Swithun, his father,
king Ethelwulf s, dearest friend ; and under his tute-
lage, had learnt where to look for help in the day of
trouble. He would not trust in his bow ; it was not his
sword that could help him, but God's right hand, and
His arm and the might of His countenance. There-
fore, when God was wroth with His people, and had
sworn that unless they repented He would cut them
off, and they had not repented, He had sworn, and
would He not perform ? Without His favour, the
armies of the Saxons would be scattered like dust be-
fore the wind. There was yet time ; the last day of
trial was not yet past ; they had that day won a great
battle ; but penitence, and prayer, and humiliation,
#8 ST. NEOT.
could alone avail to obtain that without which all else
was useless, and in the moment of victory, he felt its
uselessness. 1 le remembered the lessons of his teacher,
that the truest warrior was he who warred with evil,
by prayer and fasting, in its immediate home, in the
heart of man ; and therefore, from his childhood, prince
Athelstan had longed to make his home in the seclusion
of the cloister. But he was then an only son ; and as
his father in like case had obeyed when so obliged, so
he, for his country's sake, had done what he conceived
his duty, and had grown up a warrior. But since that
time, king Ethelwulf had taken another wife, and four
goodly sons were born to him, and so was the bar
which existed between him and the hope of his youth,
taken away ; and early cravings and high aspirations
now in this solemn hour came streaming back upon his
soul ; he remembered where his royal ancestor, king
Ina, when tired of the vanity of a throne, had found
peace at last ; and how in holy seclusion, King Offa
had tried to wash away with tears the foul remembrance
of his crime. Might not he too do better for his coun-
try thus, as well as for himself ? She had no lack of
warriors, but few and scanty indeed were her Saints ;
and never did devout lips at Easter Festival, crave
more eagerly for the holy wafer, than did now prince
Athelstan for the angelic food of fast and penance in
the monastic cell ; and he kneeled down there upon the
battle-Hold, and prayed for guidance. Now, whether
it was that a deep sleep fell upon him, or a bodily form
there presented itself to his waking senses, but an angel
from heaven appeared to him, and bade him be of good
heart, and go and do as he desired. He had chosen
the good part and God was with him.
GLASTONBURY ABBEY. 89
SECTION II.
GLASTONBURY ABBEY.
HERE therefore may properly be said to commence the
life of St. Neot. The princely warrior, who had well
and boldly fought the good fight with the worldly and
carnal servants of the Evil One, was now thought wor-
thy of the more honourable yet more dangerous post,
to fight him in spirit in his own dominions ; and as he
put off the world, so put he off with it, all to the last
link that bound him to it ; father and brothers, and
rank and wealth and kingdom, he forsook all, even his
name. Prince Athelstan became the monk Neotus ;
the very meaning of his new title " the renewed," im-
plies, that his past life was to be as though it had not
been ; or as the life of another man. In such change
is entire revolution of heart and hope and feeling. It
is indeed a death ; a resurrection, a change from earth
on earth to heaven on earth ; before he did his duty to
God in and through his duty to the world ; now what
he does for the world is but indirect, but he is permit-
ted a closer union, a more direct service to God. And
therefore those good men who gave their labours to
commemorate the life of this holy Saint, do properly
commence their task at this point ; and that we too
who are permitted to follow in their footsteps, may
labour in the same reverential spirit as they laboured ;
let us join with Abbot Ramsay of Croyland, and say,
" Forasmuch as it has pleased Almighty God to re-
move that holy Saint, Neotus, to the blessed company
of Saints in heaven, I have undertaken to record such
actions as he performed while here on earth ; therefore
90 ST. NEOT.
with a deep sense of my own unworthiness for so high
a task, I pray to the Fountain of all mercies, that of
His infinite goodness He will deign to send me His
most gracious help, that I may be enabled to make
known such things as are handed down by tradition,
concerning this venerable man ; and that I may have
him for my protector and intercessor in all dangers."
The Abbey to which he retired was Glastonbury, then
under the charge of Abbot Edmund. From what we hear
of St. Neot's life there, this Abbey must have formed
some exception in point of order and discipline, to the
general character of the monasteries of the age ; and
perhaps this reason may have influenced him in his
election. But Glastonbury had long been a favourite
of the race of Cerdic ; Kent win calls her the " Mother
of the Saints," and a charter of immunity and privilege,
granted her by Ina, still exists. Most venerable of the
Abbeys of England, tradition assigned her for a founder,
St. Joseph of Arimathea ; and Holy Patrick spent the
last years of his eventful life within her walls. King
Ina thought God's blessing was with princes, who used
their power for the protection of His Church. In deep
faith, and generous spirit, heaped he his favour on this
holy place ; only entreating that there should be offered
daily prayer and supplication for the remission of his
sins, and the prosperity and future welfare of his king-
dom ; and because he felt a time might come, when
bold bad men should hold the power of the land, and
the spoiler might seek to lay his impious hands on
God's inheritance ; he solemnly guarded his bequests
by a fearful imprecation of God's vengeance on any
who should dare interfere with them. Vain precau-
tion ! Nine centuries passed away, and there sat a king
on the throne of England, who hanged the last Abbot,
GLASTONBURY ABBEY. 91
because he lifted up his voice against sacrilege, and re-
fused to surrender the solemn trust which God had
given him. Alas for Glastonbury now ! her choirs
are silent ; the virgin of England lies in the dust ; her
holy places are desolate ; her altars are defiled ; and
ivy hangs on the old walls ; the pale stars glimmer
through the broken arches on the tombs of the de-
parted Saints ; and the owl and the night-crow keep
their long watches in the deserted aisles, where for
fifteen hundred years by night and day there went up
ceaseless prayers to heaven for the prosperity of Eng-
land.
King Ina believed in the power of prayer, and did
what he did ; and prayer did Neot think surer safe-
guard than sword or shield ; therefore in his zeal and
earnestness to serve in this way, he strove to purify
himself, that so he might be heard. Accordingly with
the great St. Anthony for his model,
" From the day of his entrance he began sedulously
to attach himself to the most holy of those by whom he
was surrounded, and endeavoured to emulate their sev-
eral excellencies. Now in the flower of his youth he
climbed as it were step by step, the heights of sanctity ;
and gave himself up to do the work of heaven, in the
society of such men as he deemed the most devoted
servants of God. Like the bees who are wont to blend
together the savours of many kinds of flowers, lest the
taste be cloyed by a too uniformly simple sweetness ;
so did this holy man exhaust and appropriate to himself
the particular graces of each several individual, and
endeavour after every virtue of self-government ; arm-
ing himself thus at all points against the enemy of
mankind, lest by one slip or fall he might give him an
opportunity of reducing him entirely to his service.
92 ST. NEOT.
So therefore he imitated one man in his continence, a
second in affability and good temper, a third in severity,
a fourth in meekness and loving-kindness, a fifth in
passing sleepless nights in psalmody. Whoever was
most diligent in the study of holy scripture, in fasting
and prayer, in humility and mortification, sitting in
sackcloth and ashes ; in patient endurance or compas-
sionate forbearance, these he chose as his examples ;
and thus possessing in his own person all these vica-
rious graces, yet was he humble to every one, affable in
conversation, considerate and kind in transacting busi-
ness, calm and dignified in appearance, grave in ges-
ture, sincere and upright, and from his cradle pure and
spotless."
His personal property, reserving only what was en-
tirely necessary for his support, he distributed among
the poor, and in supplying his necessities, even to his
abstemious biographer, his abstemiousness was remark-
able. Delicate meat was not for him ; even his coarse
black bread he sometimes denied himself, that he might
have the more for the poor.
" Bidding his stomach fast long and late, he admin-
istered to his soul the daintiest morsels of heavenly
food."
He thought not of his royal origin ; he regretted not
the pomp and luxury of his youth ; in the dead of the
night he left his hard pallet, to offer praise and thanks-
giving, and that none might know of these extraordi-
nary devotions, he would change his clothes, and dis-
guised as the meanest of the secular penitents, would
watch till daybreak in the Church, and then steal away
to his cell and resume his ordinary habit.
Only one relaxation he permitted himself in the
severity of his discipline ; and that was the society of
GLASTONBURY ABBEY. 93
a dear friend ; Athelwold, afterwards Bishop of Win-
chester, spent his youth in the monastery of Glaston-
bury, and was the chosen associate of the royal Saint.
Among the many beautiful fragments of thought, which
yet shine out and smile upon us from out of those dark
times, not the least interesting is part of a conversation
between these two holy men. The question had turned
upon the position of man in the world, what was his
business here ; and Neot illustrated his opinion from
our Lord's history.
"In the characters of Mary and Martha, may be
seen the two kinds of Christian life ; each a lawful and
each in its way a happy one ; the life of active labour
in the world, the contemplative life of retirement from
it. Martha is the first. She ministers to our Lord's
necessities, and her conduct is not displeasing ; but
Mary is thought deserving the higher praise, who
knows no place but the feet of Jesus, who knows no
business but to listen to his words. Let it be ours to
choose like Mary the one thing needful ; let us not be
like Martha troubled about many things. Do I then
recommend idleness ? Nay, for life is short, and labour
is profitable, and idleness is destructive to the soul.
The choice is in the kind of work. Our work is the
spiritual work, to subdue the flesh and live after the
Spirit, to do the things of the Spirit. Ours is the good
part to seek only the way of eternal life, and pursue it
to the end, that so hereafter we may be found in the
number of those who have been obedient to their
Lord."
So taught Neot, and so he lived. From following
the example of others, he became himself an example
to all others, in fasting and prayer, in watchings often,
in giving of alms, in the care of the poor, in the study
94 ST. NEOT.
of holy scripture, and in all manner of holy conversation.
Such unusual sanctity in so young a man soon attracted
general notice. His name spread far, and the Bishop
sent for him and held long conversations with him.
On this occasion he was permitted to enter on his
Diaconate ; and received on his return to the monas-
tery, the office of Sacristan. There is but one thing
told of his conduct while holding this position, his
reverential care of the holy vessels ; and this may seem
at first but a small matter, scarcely worth recording,
until we remember what these vessels are, and what
their use. Perhaps the words of an English poet on
this subject may lead us to a right appreciation of it. 3
" Never was gold or silver graced thus
Before.
To bring this body and this blood to us
Is more
Than to crown kings
Or be made rings,
For star-like diamonds to glitter in.
*
When the great king offers to come to me
As food,
Shall I suppose his carriages can be
Too good?
No ! stars to gold
Turned never could
Be rich enough to be employed so.
If I might wish then, I would have this bread,
This wine,
Vesseled in what the sun might blush to shed
His shine
3 Hervey, the Synagogue.
GLASTONBURY ABBEY. 95
When he should see
But till that be
I'll rest contented with it as it is.
Thus steadily trod Neot on the path of sanctity. He
used no adventitious means to rise to rank and place ;
he in the Abbey walls was but as the meanest of the
people ; earthly crown was his by birthright ; glory
and honour he had won by talent and by daring ; but
he knew that to the heavenly crown for which he
struggled, and the favour of God for which he thirsted,
there led but one way the way of holiness.
So highly honourable was St. Neot's conduct, that
long before the ordinary period of his Diaconate ex-
pired, he was recommended for the office of Priest.
Unwillingly he accepted this new honour. So deeply
unworthy he felt himself, that it was almost by force
that he was at last induced to submit. " Surrounded
by Laity as well as Clergy, and rather dragged than
going of his own free will, he at length received his
ordination."
" Dissatisfied with his past conduct now as inad-
equate for his new calling, all that he had done before
he accounted as nothing. He redoubled his acts of
piety, and from holy became more holy. His firmness
became more enduring ; his abstinence longer ; his
humility deeper ; his garments of greater coarseness."
Now too he began to go about among the people in-
structing and preaching to them.
" Like a never-failing fountain, he gave the thirsty
to drink large draughts of the word of God : by his
prayers he drove the evil spirits from such as were
possessed, and healed such as were diseased in body and
in soul." " The people flocked to him for comfort and
96 ST. NEOT.
advice, and none who sought him ever returned empty.
With all he had learnt to sympathize. Rejoicing with
those that rejoiced, and weeping with those that wept,
he became all things to all men, that he might win all
to Christ."
And as time went on, God left him not without
special mark of His favour, and not only thus enabled
him to scatter His benefits among the people ; but that
all men might know that such a life as his, did indeed
raise its possessor above the weaknesses and imperfec-
tions of this mortal life, He began to work sensible
miracles by his hand.
It was the custom of the monks of the Abbey, at the
hour of mid-day, to retire alone to their several cells,
for private prayer and meditation. This hour was held
sacred, and no communication of any sort was per-
mitted among the brethren. Neot, whose cell was
nearest to the great gate of the monastery, was dis-
turbed in his devotions by a violent and continued
knocking. On repairing to the grating to ascertain the
cause, he discovered a person who might not be re-
fused, pressing in haste for admission ; he immediately
hurried to the door, but, to his confusion and per-
plexity, he found that from the smallness of his stature
he was unable to reach the lock. The knocking now
became more violent, and Neot, in despair of natural
means of success, prayed to God for assistance. Imme-
diately, the lock slid gently down the door, until it
reached the level of his girdle, and thus he was enabled
to open it without further difficulty. This remarkable
miracle is said to have been witnessed to by all the
brethren, for the lock continued in its place, and the
people flocked together from all quarters to see it.
NEOT THE HERMIT. 97
SECTION III.
NEOT THE HERMIT.
HOLY are the characters of those whom God chooses
to do His work on earth. The powers of nature forgot
their wonted courses, and submitted to the will of St.
Neot, but long and arduous penance was yet before
him, ere his spirit should be sanctified to do the work
of an apostle. The hardy children of the race of the
Cymry, from their rocky fastnesses in Wales and Corn-
wall, still beheld with hatred the proud Saxon in the
halls of their own ancestors, and refused to recognize
them as brethren, even in the common ties of Christian
fellowship. Proudly they stood aloof from Christen-
dom, and because the Saxon was in communion with
Rome, they denounced as Antichrist its holy bishop ; 4
arrogantly vaunting to themselves the proud title of
the Apostolic Church of England. From the heights
of Dartmoor to where the restless waves of the Atlantic
wash the far point of Tol Peden Penwith the crusading
armies of Egbert found easy passage through the deserted
vallies, while in their inaccessible mountain fortresses,
the British laughed to scorn such efforts to subdue
them ; entangled in the deep ravines, and where ad-
vance had been so easy, finding bridges broken, valleys
closed up, and passes occupied by these hardy mountain
bands, retreat was now impossible ; troop after troop
of the invaders fell victims to the fury of the people,
and a miserable remnant of Egbert's gallant army only
4 Roger de Wendov. p. 91. Bede Hist. Eccl. lib. ii. Wm.
Malmsbury. Also, Borlase. Hist, of the Antiquities of Cornwall.
II
98 ST. NEOT.
escaped, to tell the fate of the last attempt that was
ever made by force of arms on the Cymry of the west. 5
When the sword had failed, the Church was to be
successful, and this unnatural feud was now to end. A
humble monk was the chosen instrument of providence
to effect this great purpose ; and an angel was sent to
St. Neot, at Glastonbury, to bid him prepare himself
for a long journey, into an unknown and barbarous
land. With unflinching trust, this servant of the Lord
obeyed His call. He made no difficulty ; he sought no
time for enquiry ; with but one companion, the faithful
Barius, having taken affectionate leave of his dear
friends, in his much loved monastery, he set out on
foot, in the direction the angel bade him. For many
days they walked on, over hill and .dale, over moor and
down, and still the Spirit that moved the Saint, had
given no token that he had reached the appointed spot,
still urged him forward unremittingly. And they had
crossed the rich vales of Somersetshire, and from the
high ridge of Dartmoor, they gazed wistfully, for the
last time, on the spot they loved so dearly ; yet they
pressed on, and now they had penetrated far into the
wilderness of Cornwall. Along the wild and desolate
range of moorland which divides the county, they were
wearily dragging themselves along, the third week
after their departure from Glastonbury avoiding the
town of Liskeard, where there lived a fierce chief, who
feared not God, and was a deadly enemy of the Saxons ;
they were traversing the southern edge of the moor,
5 Malmsbury and Wendover say, that Egbert conquered Corn-
wall as well as Wales. It is clear that there was a desperate
slaughter, and that Egbert found it impossible to maintain his
ground.
NEOT THE HERMIT. 99
when, at an abrupt turn of a hill, they found them-
selves on the edge of a deep and narrow gorge, which
carries the water of a small river, from a neighbouring
morass to the sea. Broken into a succession of small
waterfalls, the stream rushed swiftly down the abrupt
side of a beautiful valley, and far below them wound
gracefully along the green strip of meadow land in the
bottom, while the luxuriant foliage of the dense masses
of wood which clothed its sides, showed in grateful
contrast to the long dreary tract over which they had
passed. On descending the side of the hill, they came
to a place where a rudely constructed basin received
the pure water of a fountain, which there first bubbled
into light, and, by virtue of a blessing from the good
St. Gueryr, possessed a healing influence for all who
sought its aid in faith and confidence ; a small chapel
adjoining it, and sanctified by the presence of the relics
of the same saint, invited them to pause for their devo-
tions, and within its sacred walls, the same angel who
bade him go forth from Glastonbury, now brought St.
Neot the welcome news that this was his journey's end.
Here, in this lonely spot, he was to spend seven years
in a hermit's cell, and live by the labour of his own
hands ; yet was he not unsupported by Him who had
sent him there. From the time of his arrival, to the
close of his trial, a continuous sensible miracle declared
the abiding presence of the favour of God. They had
spent one night there, and the Saint was in the chapel,
when Barius came in haste to tell him that three fish
were playing in the basin where the fountain rose. St.
Neot ordered him on no account to touch them, until
he should have himself enquired what this strange
thing might mean. In answer to his prayer, the same
angel appeared, and told him that the fish were there
100 ST. NEOT.
for his use, and that every morning one might be taken
and prepared for food ; if he faithfully obeyed this
command, the supply should never fail, and the same
number should even continue in the fountain. And
so it was, and ever the three fish were seen to play
there, and every morning one was taken and two were
left, and every evening were three fish leaping and
gamboling in the bubbling stream ; therefore did the
Saint offer nightly praise and thanksgiving, for this so
wonderful preservation ; and time went on, and ever
more and more did St. Neot's holiness grow and expand
and blossom. The fruit was yet to come.
" Here he exerted the strength he had acquired
before ; and exhibited in his own person the truth of
those things which he had learnt in Holy Scripture.
The thorns of riches choked him not ; the burdens of
this world retarded him not. Forgetting those things
which were behind, and reaching forward to those
which were before, he ever pressed forward to obtain
the prize of his high calling in Christ Jesus."
His discipline was so strict, and continued with such
unrelaxing severity, that on a certain occasion he was
taken ill in consequence. The faithful Barius, ever
anxious to anticipate his master's smallest want, if by
any means some portion of the saintly radiance might
so be reflected upon him, was anxious to prepare some
food, to be ready for him on his awaking from a sleep
into which, after nights of watchfulness, he had at
length fallen. Here, however, he was met by a diffi-
culty : his master's illness had reduced him to a state
of extreme delicacy, and he was at a loss how he ought
to dress his food. Hastily and incautiously he resorted
to a dangerous expedient. Instead of one fish, he took
two from the basin, and roasting one and boiling the
NEOT THE HERMIT. 101
other, he presented both to St. Neot for choice, on his
awaking from his sleep. In dismay and terror the
Saint learnt what had been done, and springing from
his couch, and ordering Barius instantly to replace both
fish as they were in the water, himself spent a night
and a day in prayer and humiliation. Then at length
were brought the welcome tidings of forgiveness ; and
Barius joyfully reported that both fish were swimming
in the water. After this, his illness left him, and the
supply in the fountain continued as before.
In the monastery of Glastonbury he had learnt the
mode of self-discipline by which St. Patrick had at-
tained his saintly eminence, and now in his hermitage
he almost rivalled him in austerities. Every morning
St. Patrick repeated the Psalter through from end to
end, with the hymns and canticles, and two hundred
prayers. Every day he celebrated mass, and every
hour he drew the holy sign across his breast one hun-
dred times ; in the first watch of the night he sung a
hundred psalms, and knelt two hundred times upon the
ground ; and at cockcrow he stood in water, until he
had said his prayers. Similarly each morning went
St. Neot's orisons to heaven from out of his holy well ;
alike in summer and in the deep winter's cold, bare to
his waist, he too each day repeated the Psalter through.
One day when he was thus engaged in the depth of
winter, he was disturbed by suddenly hearing the noise
of a hunting party riding rapidly down the glen. Un-
willing that any earthly being should know of his aus-
terities, but only the One who is over all, he sprung
hastily from the water and was retiring to his home,
when he dropped one of his shoes. He did not wait to
pick it up, but hurried off and completed his devotions
in secret.
102 ST. NEOT.
" And when he had finished his psalms, and his
reading, and his prayers, with all diligence and care,
he remembered his shoe and sent his servant to fetch
it. In the meantime a fox, wandering over hill and
vale, and curiously prying into every nook and corner,
had chanced to come to the place where the holy man
had been standing, and had lighted upon the shoe and
thought to carry it off. And an angel who loved to
hover in hallowed places, and to breathe an atmosphere
which was sanctified by the devotions of God's Saints,
was present there invisibly and saw this thing, and he
would not that such an one as St. Neot should be mo-
lested even in so small a matter, so that he had sent
the sleep of death upon the fox, and Barius when he
came there found him dead, arrested at the instant of
his theft, yet holding the thongs of his shoe in his
mouth. Then he approached in fear and wonder, and
took the shoe and brought it to the holy man, and told
him all that had happened."
And as such holy life receives such manifest tokens
of the Divine favour and protection, and extraordinary
powers display themselves, as the spirit becomes eman-
cipated from its thraldom to the flesh, so was it per-
mitted to exercise its ordinary influence in winning
others by its natural dignity and attractiveness. Few
persons ever visited St. Neot's valley except on hunting
parties, and another adventure from one of these befell
him, as he was engaged as before at his fountain. He
was standing by the water when a young and beautiful
fawn bounded from the adjoining thicket, and panting
from weariness and terror sought a refuge at his feet.
Hitherto the poor creature had known man but as its
foe, but the serene countenance of the holy man had no
terror for the innocent and oppressed, and crouching
NEOT THE HERMIT. 103
closely to him with upturned imploring eyes, it appeared
to beseech his protection. Not so the fierce and hun-
gry bloodhounds that followed hot behind. Nature
has nothing more terrible to savageness and cruelty
than the gentle majesty of virtue ; and the frightened
animals shrunk back cowed and overawed into the
wood. Up came the wild hunter and hallooed them to
the prey, but his hot spirit too was quenched in the
pure influences which flowed from the countenance of
the Saint ; he felt the warning, the mild rebuke cut
him to the heart, and in the first enthusiasm of repent-
ance, he hung up his horn as an offering at the shrine
of St. Petrox, and himself assumed the habit of a monk
and retired to the same monastery.
And angels sought fellowship with this blessed man,
and as the long period of his hermit life passed on, not
seldom was he favoured with their high and awful con-
versation. One more illustrious hunter visited the
shrine, and that was his young brother Prince Alfred.
In the boyish excitement of the chace he had penetrated
into these remote wildernesses beyond the boundaries
of his father's dominion ; but he left his sport, and
sought his saintly brother for advice and counsel. In
early childhood, this noble-hearted boy had learnt to
realize the hard lesson that " God scourgeth every son
whom he receiveth," and, when oppressed by the in-
firmity of the flesh, had solemnly prayed that God
would be pleased to send upon him some disorder,
which might the better enable him to subdue it ; and
God had heard his prayer, and had sent the ficus on
him, and afflicted him with very grievous sickness ; so
grievous indeed, and so severe, that he could no longer
bear it, and now, in St. Gueryr's shrine, with his
brother's intercession, he prayed that the waters of the
104 ST. NEOT.
well might exert their healing influence in his favour,
and that some other disorder in the room of this, might
be sent on him, which he might be the better able to
endure ; and this prayer too was heard. And Alfred
went back on his way, and became king of England,
and Neot went strictly and holily on in his, and for
seven years never for one day relaxed the severity of
his discipline ; remembering the solemn words of his
great Master, " Whoso taketh not his cross and beareth
it after me, is not worthy of me." Each did his work
on earth ; and if any should ask what earthly work
St. Neot had done hitherto for England, in her many
trials and dangers, we answer, that though we see not
the under current of Providence, and know not in what
way the mysterious influence of Saints avail, yet we do
know that they are the salt of the earth : we do know
that ten righteous men would have saved the cities of
the plain, and that while just Lot continued within
their cursed walls, God Himself declared that He could
do nothing.
However this be, as we have seen St. Neot hitherto
in one form, we are now to see him in another. Hith-
erto, though his lamp shone brightly, it shone not to
the world. In the earth, but not of the earth, the
mysteries of the spirit had been in part unfolded to
him ; nature had reversed her laws for him ; angels
had been his companions ; and in their serene com-
pany, the chains of his earthly prison-house had burst
asunder and fallen off from him ; at length he was free.
How glorious a state for a frail child of Adam here on
earth ; yet was there a more glorious behind. For it
is more glorious for one who has tasted the heavenly
vision, and has had his dwelling in the mysterious
Presence ; his body on earth, his spirit beyond the
NEOT THE HERMIT. 105
stars, to remember his brethren in captivity walking
among vain shadows in their prison cave, and disquiet-
ing themselves in vain, to forget his more immediate
and proper good, to disrobe himself and come down
among 'them, to sway and guide their feeble trembling
efforts in the right way. For it is written, that this
perplexing life riddle shall never find solution until
the Saints possess and rule the earth. Thus came
Neot back among mankind ; and that nothing should
be done disorderly, although he had received his Apos-
tolic commission from God Himself, yet must it be
confirmed by the visible head of the Church on earth,
and he went to Rome to receive the benediction of
Pope Leo. Nearly two hundred years before a college
had been founded there, by the piety of the royal Ina,
for the instruction of the Anglo-Saxon students in
theology. To this place St. Neot proceeded, and spent
many months among them. The fame of the princely
anchorite had preceded him, and he was welcomed with
the warmest enthusiasm. The holy father gave his
fullest sanction to his purpose, and at length dismissed
him with his benediction, and the charge to preach the
word of God among the people. And now commencing
his labours, he did not return home immediately, but
made a missionary circuit, teaching among the uncon-
verted tribes of Prussia and northern Germany. The
same powers which had been granted to the earliest
apostles, were continued to him, and wherever he went
he was enabled to work miracles, in attestation of the
truth of his mission. " For," says his biographer, " if
Christ be the head of the elect, and the faithful are
members of Him, according to the word of the apostle,
' we being many are one body in Christ,' what wonder
if such members as adhere to Him as their head, should
10G ST. NEOT.
receive peculiar virtues from that head. St. Neot
abides in Christ, and Christ in him ; since He has
made him thus to sparkle with miracles, in this fleeting
world of shadows."
SECTION IV.
THE MONASTERY.
AT the end of the year, the Saint returned to Neot-
stowe, not to resume his seclusion, but at length to
work the work which God had appointed for him,
peacefully to accomplish, by gentle means, what the
sword of Egbert had attempted so unsuccessfully, to
bring back the schismatic church of Cornwall into the
bosom of her mother, and through her to reduce the
country itself to peaceful submission to the princes of
West Saxony. As a first step to accomplish this pur-
pose, he designed erecting a monastery on the site of
his old hermitage, from whence, as from a great reser-
voir, would be poured out streams of missionaries
among the people. His journey to Rome, its known
object, and the events which had ensued upon it, added
to his previous reputation, gave such publicity to his
undertaking, that no sooner was it known to have com-
menced, than a very remarkable success at once at-
tended it. " Many of the wealthiest nobles forsook the
world, and chose with him a life of voluntary hardship
and poverty. Many brought their children to him,
entreating earnestly that these at least might find a
refuge in his flock from the storms and troubles of this
wretched world, and be nourished up for the life
THE MONASTERY. 107
eternal." The charity of the neighbouring people pro-
vided them with lands, which were kept in cultivation
by the lay brothers, for the support of the monastery,
and to supply the wants of the neighbouring poor.
And here, under the eye of the holy Saint, were bred
up those faithful children of the Church Catholic who
spread her truth with such success, that we hear no
more of Cornish schism ; and but a few years after, the
whole West peacefully submitted themselves to the rule
of a bishop sent by Saxon Edward. In spite however,
of this success abroad, and indeed his general popu-
larity, St. Neot had difficulties of a private nature to
contend with, which gave yet further occasion for the
interference of providence for his protection. The
fierce prince of Liskeard beheld with no small dis-
pleasure the rapid growth of a religious, and above all,
a Saxon rival, in his immediate neighbourhood. His
Briton blood boiled with indignation, to see his enemy
thus eating away the very root and core of his own
authority, and attracting so unaccountably the hearts
and affections of his subjects. From his ignorance of
the secret of St. Neot's influence, he was at a loss which
way to oppose him. Open personal violence he could
not venture upon ; so that he had recourse instead, to
a system of galling and tyrannical oppression of the
inferior brethren of the House of Neotstowe. He
maintained that he had a right to the secular service
of all his subjects, and would forcibly compel them to
leave their own work and labour for him. They culti-
vated his soil, attended his cattle, and, like slaves, were
made to engage in the most menial service. Now as
many of these brethren were members of the noblest
British families, chiefs, and the sons of chiefs, and, like
himself, descendants of Cadwallon, it may be sup-
108 ST. NEOT.
posed such treatment was no little trial of their Chris-
tian fortitude ; and indeed it was intended to alienate
their affections from their new master, who was unable
or unwilling to protect them. So matters went on till
one harvest time, when, as usual, they were forced into
the prince's fields, to carry his corn for him. It was a
very large harvest ; they had loaded many wagons,
and were driving them home. The road lay along a
narrow ridge, with a precipice on one side sheer down
into the river. Exactly as they reached this point, a
violent squall springing up from the north-west, sud-
denly catching the carts, overthrew them with all their
load at once into the river, where they were totally
destroyed. Such an event could not fail of its effect.
The prince regarded it as a judgment ; as an intima-
tion that if he persisted in his tyranny, worse might
befall him. He withdrew his opposition, and from that
day forward never interfered again with the depend-
ants of St. Neot. On another occasion, the cupidity of
a band of robbers was attracted by the lonely unpro-
tected situation of the monastery, and they carried off
the cattle which were used for the plough. The ser-
vants went out as usual to work, in the morning, but
came back in dismay to their master, and told him
they could find no oxen ; the door of the stable was
.open, and they were gone. He told them not to be
down-hearted, but to return to the field and wait the
issue. They obeyed disconsolately ; their plough was
now useless to them, and they were counting the weary
hours they must spend in digging over that rough field,
when on lifting up their eyes, they saw four beautiful
stags standing by it, and gracefully bending their heads
over the yoke. Hardly venturing to approach, they
gazed in mute astonishment, but the creatures' quiet
THE MONASTERY. 109
gentle manner showed so plainly they were waiting for
the yoke to be laid upon their necks, that at last they
ventured to go up and harness them ; without sign of
fear or resistance, they submitted with the most willing
gracefulness, and all that day and all the next, they
toiled at their unwonted labour. Far and wide spread
this strange story, and among those that heard of it,
were the very thieves who had been the occasion of
the miracle. Frantic with terror, not knowing what
might be in store for them, when such means were
taken to repair the mischief they had done, they hur-
ried humbly to the feet of St. Neot, to confess their
sin and restore his property. And he received them
and forgave them, and they in their zeal and sorrow
besought him that he would yet take further pity on
them ; they feared to return to the world, lest their old
habits return upon them, and the devil regain the
mastery over their souls ; they would stay where they
were, under the shadow of the Saint, and become the
servants of him whom they had injured : and so it
was ; and these violent and lawless men became num-
bered among the faithful and the obedient, and in time
were raised to office in the sacred ministry. " Such,"
exclaims his biographer, with a glow of enthusiasm,
" was the wonderful power of this holy Saint. He
saved the oxen from the thieves, the stags from their
savage nature, and the thieves themselves from the
power of the devil." And the stags went back to their
wood and became free again, but they never forgot
their lesson of humility, and carried to their deaths
upon their bodies the marks of what had befallen
them ; and long years after were seen young fawns,
sporting in the forests of Liskeard, with the white ring
where the yoke had pressed their ancestors, yet visible
on their necks.
110 ST. NEOT.
SECTION V.
ALFRED AND NEOT.
TEN years before parted the two royal brethren, Alfred
and St. Neot. They were now to meet again ; and
one, alas, how changed ! Then we saw prince Alfred
in the glow of young enthusiasm, arming himself for
the fight, and setting out right nobly on the Christian
warrior's course, high in hope and rich in friends, and
in the favour of God and man ; now he comes back, a
proud, self-willed, overbearing monarch, his subjects
discontented at home, a fierce foe pressing on him from
without, seeking counsel of his long-neglected brother.
His father was dead, his three brothers all dead, and
these two stood alone, the sole surviving descendants
of the illustrious Cerdic. And one was speedily to be
gathered to his fathers, and on the other was the wrath
of God to be poured out, and he was to be purified in
the furnace of adversity. Long years after, he related
to his friend and confessor, bishop Asser, the stories
of his youth ; and he, as a warning for those in time
to come, recorded the history of the sin and of its
punishment.
" Not victory only over his enemies, and success in
difficulty, did God think fit to send on him, but He
permitted him often to be worn down by his enemies,
afflicted with adversities, depressed by the contempt of
his own subjects, that he might know that there is one
Lord of all, to whom every knee must bow, in whose
hand are the hearts of kings, who putteth down the
mighty from their seat, and exalteth the humble ; who
ALFRED AND NEOT. Ill
willeth sometimes that his faithful servants, while pros-
perous, shall be struck with the scourge of adversity ;
that in depression they may not despair of the mercy
of God, and when exalted to honour they may not be
puffed up, but may know to whom is due all that they
possess. This adversity indeed which befell the king,
came not on him undeservedly ; because in the begin-
ning of his reign, when he was yet young and inexpe-
rienced, such men of his kingdom as came to him re-
quiring assistance in their difficulties, and such as were
oppressed by those in authority and demanded justice
at his hands, he refused to listen to, or render them
any assistance, but took no account of them at all.
For this did that most blessed Saint Neotus, his nearest
kinsman, while yet alive in the flesh, grieve from the
bottom of his heart, and his prophetic spirit foretold
what must befall him for his misconduct. Nevertheless,
he regarded not the reproof of the man of God, and
refused to receive his words. Because, therefore, what-
ever sins man doth commit must of necessity be pun-
ished either in this world or in the world to come, the
true and holy Judge would not that this folly of the
king should go unpunished in this present life, to the
end, that he might spare him in the strict account here-
after."
How sad is the meeting between two brothers, or
men who for any other reason have been very dear to
each other, when one has gone astray ! Sin has thrown
a broad gulf between their hearts, over which there is
no other bridge but penitence. Till then there can be
no more sympathy, no more confidence remembering
what he once was, the presence of the friend of purer
days adds poignancy to the remorse of the guilty one.
His proud spirit chafes at the degradation he cannot
112 ST. NEOT.
dmse but feel. He seeks refuge from himself in an
assumption of reserve and haughtiness, and anger at
the reproaches he imagines he sees in every word and
glance, closes the avenues to better feelings. And the
other, grief is all the feeling he can have. His affec-
tions yearn for the lost one, but they may not reap-
proach him except through God by prayer. While his
heart is bursting, his stern sense of duty forces him to
master it. Cold grave rebuke, advice, instruction, is
all he may give, but all more sternly far than if they
had never been to each other what they were. He
may not trust himself to be gentle.
So met Alfred and St. Neot, not as brothers, not in
the confiding aifectionateness of mutual love ; but as
Saul came to Samuel, an unrepentant king to a saint
and prophet ; to ask a blessing, to receive a rebuke.
First instruction and counsel were tried. " The Saint
entertained him honourably, for as much as he was his
prince ; but because he governed not his people aright,
because he was haughty and forbidding in his manners,
and his rule austere and harsh for these things did the
blessed Neot rebuke him and teach him what was the
duty of a Christian king." And it appears that for a
time at least his slumbering conscience was awakened,
for " he went to his Chouse in awe and great fear ; and
from that time forward came frequently to see the
Saint, and seek from him advice and counsel."
Some men, when their hearts condemn them, seek to
forget themselves ; like Ahab who hated Micaiah be-
cause he prophesied evil concerning him, they fear
God's presence and shrink from every thing which re-
minds them of Him. These men are cowards, but men
of nobler natures, even while unrepentant and yet in
their sins, still will not wholly renounce their alle-
ALFRED AND NEOT. 113
glance. Though fallen, they dare look round them and
see where they stand. They know their state, but
they do not rest contented in it. Therefore they will
not yet cast off the last rope of their moorings ; and
while they have not energy enough to restrain their
passions, they seem still to seek the presence of those
who they know will not spare their censures. So Saul
clung to Samuel, so Joash to Elisha, so Nebuchadnezzar
to Daniel. And so now though " he departed not yet
from the evil of his doings," king Alfred came often to
see his brother.
At length came the last earthly interview, and the
prophecy of final vengeance.
" It came to pass on a day that the king went as he
was wont to see the man of God ; who, when he came
to him, among many other things, rebuked him again
for his misconduct. He set before him the pains of
eternal fire, and showed how that those who are mighty
upon earth shall hereafter mightily be tormented. And
besides this, in the spirit of prophecy, he foretold to
him all which should befall him afterwards. ' Thou
seest, O king, what now thou sufferest from thine ene-
mies, and thou shall suffer more hereafter ; for in thy
kingdom thou art proud and tyrannical, whereas before
the eyes of the Divine Majesty thou oughtest rather
with the king and prophet David to have shown thyself
meek and humble. Therefore by a foreign nation that
knoweth not Christ, thou shalt be driven thence.
Alone thou shalt escape from thine enemies, and shalt
lie concealed under the hands of God, and so for thy
sins thou shalt remain many days. Nevertheless I have
obtained for thee by my prayers, that if thou wilt turn
from thine iniquities, God will yet have mercy on thee
and restore thee to thy state and sceptre. Now there-
i
114 ST. NEOT.
fore take thou more wholesome counsel for thyself and
people, and send men to Rome with presents for our
most reverend Father there, and entreat him that he
will of his clemency be pleased to remit the tax upon
the English School. And behold I go the way of all
flesh : our Lord Jesus Christ has revealed to me that I
am soon to depart hence. Now therefore when Divine
Providence shall have fulfilled its purpose concerning
thee, and shall have rightly punished thee for thy mis-
deeds, then be thou of good heart, and put thy trust in
Him who ruleth all things, and pray for His assistance ;
and the Almighty God, by me his servant, shall hear
thy prayers and restore thee again to thy place.' "
And now the day was spent, the evening was come.
He had finished his course, he had wrought his work,
and St. Neot was to die. He lived not to see the final
success of his mission, but the word was gone out, the
seed was sown, and in its own good time the fruit came
to perfection. Such is ever the lot of God's workmen.
They sow and others reap, they lay the foundation,
others build the superstructure. A work which is to
endure must be done in faith ; and the workman re-
ceives his reward, but not on earth. The monastery of
Neotstowe was but in its infancy when its founder
died ; but to this day men pray and praise in the house
which he provided them, and in his own saintly crown
in heaven shines the bright jewel of the recovered
Church of the West.
Soon after his last interview with king Alfred, St.
Neot was attacked by fever. He had been told before
that his course was ended, and he knew that this illness
was the signal of his departure. But one thing re-
mained for him, once more to receive the Holy Com-
munion, and then straightway in the presence of the
ALFRED AND NEOT. 115
assembled brethren, amidst the pealing of loud anthems
and prayers ascending round him up to heaven, he sur-
rendered his soul to God.
With solemn pomp and fear his body was committed
to the earth. Gloriously, as when at evening light
clouds flock together to gaze at the departing sun, and
his last rays as they fall on them bathe them in unut-
terable splendour, were shed the last influences of this
holy man on those who crowded to his funeral. For
the houses where Saints have had their dwelling place
are holy as they were holy. Those temples which so
large a measure of God's Spirit has deigned to hallow
by its presence, become impregnated by its blessed influ-
ence, and are not as those of other men. The spirit
returns to Him who gave it, and the body to the dust ;
but it is ransomed from the power of corruption ;
though it dissolves it decays not. The natural body
shrinks and shrivels up like decaying leaves. These
holy tabernacles in decomposing shed round them fra-
grance, like the flowers of paradise.
Multitudes of persons from all quarters came together
to take a last farewell of the person of their beloved St.
Neot, and all who came within the power of the rich
odour which exhaled from him as he lay there, became
divinely refreshed in soul and body. Those who had
diseases were healed every one ; they needed not so
much as to touch the body ; they gazed upon it, and
the evil spirit which tormented them fled away in terror
and dismay. Those that he won at his death were
more than those whom he won when he was living ;
and in a short time the number of persons who craved
admittance to his monastery became so great that it
was necessary to enlarge the Church. On this occa-
sion the body was moved " with great care and trem-
116 ST. NEOT.
bling ; with long watchings, and fasting and prayer, it
was taken from the place where it was first laid, and
re-buried on the north side of the high altar, where it
now lies. Again, when it was exposed, the same rich
fragrance issued from it and filled the Church, and
again did those holy relics answer to the devout ap-
proaches of the diseased by an immediate cure. And
for the merits of the same most holy Saint, the favour
and blessing of Almighty God yet rested on that spot,
and ceased not to be poured forth there in answer to
the prayers of the faithful."
SECTION VI.
THE DANES.
FROM the deep dungeons of Ella of Northumberland,
where serpents were writhing round him and fastening
their envenomed fangs into his flesh, rose the death
chaunt of Ragnar Lodbrog. Far over the wide waves
rolled the wild notes to the chamber of the Scalld
Aslauga, his sorceress consort. Swift sped she the
spear messenger among the fierce vikingr ; and the
nobles of Norway and of Denmark vowed a terrible
revenge. Three kings and nine earls joined their forces
to the sons of the murdered monarch, and the most
mighty armament that had ever left the shores of the
Baltic, now set sail for Northumberland. North and
south, east and west England was to be laid desolate ;
the hated name of Christian was to be blotted out, and
Odin's recreant slaves forced again to bend before the
THE DANES. 117
God of their ancestors, Hinguar and Hubba for re-
venge, Guthrum, Healfden and Bagsar for booty and
conquest, and all maddened with savage superstition,
fell like a pack of howling wolves on the forces of
Northumberland. The enchanted standard of the
Raven, woven in one summer noon by Ragnar's daugh-
ters, floated in the van, and the foul bird, animated by
some infernal spirit, snuffed the coming carnage and
croaked and clapped its wings. The troops of the
Saxons were scattered like chaff. The murderous
tyrant Ella was flayed alive and flung a prey to the
eagle and the kite. The prophecy of Alcuin was terri-
bly fulfilled. The iniquity of the wretched Saxons
was now full, and vengeance drew a bloody pen across
the appalling amount.
And yet the most awful part of such national inflic-
tions is, that not the guilty only perish, but the undis-
criminating wave of calamity sweeps all alike before it,
the innocent with the wicked. On the monasteries fell
most heavily the Danish fury. They were reputed
rich ; they were defenceless ; above all, in them lay
the vital spirit of Christianity. Scarce one through all
England escaped. It would be sickening to follow
their course ; the scenes are of too uniformly horrible a
character. Yet some few instances of Christian hero-
ism flash out and call for eternal honour. The nun-
nery of Coldingham lay in the path of the Danes, and
full well knew Ebba, the abbess, that worse than death
awaited her flock. What were they to do ? Escape
they could not ; die by their own hands they might
not. She called the sisterhood together. It was after
vespers, and the Danes would be there the next morn-
ing. She said she knew of but one way ; she would
set them the example, they might follow if they would.
118 ST. NEOT.
Their beauty was their worst enemy ; destroy that and
they were safe. She drew a knife from under her
robe, and herself severed her nose and lips. In silence
all followed her terrible example. The savage spoiler
came for his prey ; but when they looked for beauty,
to satiate their foul lust, they found but hideous and
ghastly figures, foul with blood. Back rushed the
baffled fiends, in mingled fear and loathing, and in
their disappointed fury, burnt that noble band of im-
maculates in the fires of their own abbey. Some gal-
lant stands were made in Mercia and East Anglia.
Priests and monks buckled on their armour, and went
out to the battle to be slain. Burrhed, of Mercia, fled
to Rome, and St. Edmund, of East Anglia, was barba-
rously murdered. The monks of Croyland, with Prior
Toly, went out and fought desperately, but they were
all destroyed, and the monastery, with all its occupants,
reduced to a heap of ashes. Abbot Theodore fell like
a Christian warrior ; he was slaughtered at his own
altar, celebrating mass. Of all the kingdoms of the Oc-
tarchy, Wessex alone remained untouched. Had Alfred
but continued firm and steadfast, as he had begun,
who can tell but it might have yet been spared ? But
even this great prince too, for a while forgot himself.
St. Neot's warnings were despised, and now his threat-
enings were to be accomplished. For six years of his
reign, the stroke was delayed by the long-suffering of
God. At length it fell. By a long course of tyranny
and injustice, and perhaps even worse crimes, (for these
are hinted at) Alfred, once the darling of West Saxony,
had alienated the affections of his people, and now he
was only hated and despised. In the spring of the
year 877, the armies of the Danes came down upon
him : his subjects deserted him, and submitted every-
THE DANES. 119
where to the invaders : he found himself, without
striking a blow, a fugitive and an outcast. St. Neot's
prophecy was fulfilled ; he was driven for a time from
the throne he had disgraced, and sunk to such abject
misery, that at one time no one of his subjects knew
where he was, or what had become of him.
In the marshes of Somersetshire, lay an island,
formed by the alluvial deposit of the Thone and the
Parret, of considerable extent ; a deep morass divided
it from the mainland, and its sides were covered with a
low rough copse wood ; the centre was open, and suffi-
ciently large to find employment for a neatherd. No
trace of it now remains. The soil has sunk ; the floods
vash over the whole, but to Alfred it furnished a
retreat from the pursuit of the Danes. Entirely alone,
he presented himself at the neatherd's cottage ; he said
he was an officer of the king's army, and requested the
shelter of their roof, till better times enabled him to
return to the world. Alfred's great error, as king, had
been neglect of his poorer subjects. With a singular
aptness of retribution, he was condemned to beg pro-
tection from one of the very poorest, and to receive it
only on condition of his performing the most menial
services for him. How hard a trial for one so little
used to self-restraint ! And yet he bore it uncomplain-
ingly ; and there was even worse in store for him.
The neatherd's wife one day left him in charge of the
cakes which were baking before the fire. Alfred's
thoughts unfortunately wandered ; his charge was neg-
lected, the cakes were burnt. The old woman had a
tongue, and was not sparing in the use of it ; indeed,
the legend says, she not only scolded, but struck the
king ; but he submitted with the most patient resigna-
tion ; a sure proof that he was returning to himself
120 ST. NEOT.
again. After this trial, the severest part of Alfred's
punishment was remitted. He found means of commu-
nicating with a few of his friends : his wife and chil-
dren joined him, and a small body of his followers.
Together, they erected a fortification in the island, and
supported themselves by fishing, and pillaging from the
Danes. Marked as he had been by heaven from the
first, he was not now deserted in his affliction. One
holy Saint, while yet in the body, had foretold his
downfall ; another, now in spirit, came to give him
hopes of restoration. "Men have entertained angels
unawares." One day in the depth of winter, his men
being all out fishing, he was sitting reading with his
wife, when a beggar knocked at the door, and entreated
charity for Christ's sake. Their stock of food was
scanty ; one loaf was all ; but Alfred took it, and
breaking it in two, with the words, " Blessed* be God
in all his gifts," he gave half of it to the poor man,
adding that He who could feed five thousand men with
five loaves and two fishes, would make that sufficient
for his necessities. The beggar departed ; the king
resumed his reading, and presently fell asleep. In a
dream, the holy Cuthbert appeared to him ; he was the
poor beggar ; he had been sent to try him whether he
was indeed turned back from his evil ways. Nobly had
Alfred borne the trial ; he should not lose his reward ;
his restoration was at hand, and as a token that the
vision was indeed true, a multitude of fish should attend
the successful efforts of his servants. The king awoke :
his people returned, wondering that in spite of the cold
and severe frost their success had been so great. And
the spring of the year 878 drew on, and he had now
been nearly a year in exile, and St. Neot, the messen-
ger of wrath, came to confirm the glad tidings.
THE DANES. 121
Watchful and sleepless, the king was lying in his
bed, when, by permission of the merciful God, His
servant St. Neot appeared to him.
" Knowest thou not," he said, " how vain are the
thoughts of man. They who hope in the Lord shall
take courage, they shall make to themselves wings as
eagles, they shall fly and shall not faint. Now, there-
fore, up and be doing ; for thou shalt go forth to battle
with these heathens, and the Lord shall be with thee,
and they shall flee before thee. And king Guthrum
and his nobles shall be humbled, and shall leave their
idols and be baptized. And behold, I will go with
thee, and with power from above I will lead thy forces
to the battle, and they shall be victorious. The seventh
week after Easter thou shalt go forth.
In the meantime, the Danes had been doing their
work most fearfully. Hinguar and Hubba, like two
incarnate fiends, had penetrated to Devonshire, sparing
neither sex nor age, pillaging, slaying, and burning all
before them : here, however, they met their first check.
St. Edmund's blood, which cried aloud to heaven, was
here to be avenged. Ragnar's fierce sons had run
their course. The scanty remnant of the faithful
Saxons were gathered with Odun, earl of Devon, in
the castle of Cynuit. The place was without water ;
and the camp of the Danes lay round it, secure of a
bloodless victory. Providence, however, had ordered
the issue otherwise. A fierce sally of the garrison, in
the grey of a March morning, as desperate as it was
unexpected, ended in the total rout of the Danish
forces ; Hinguar and Hubba were destroyed by the
sword of Odun, and the disenchanted raven, now life-
less, and with drooping wings, fell into the hands of
the conquerors. By this defeat, however, the Danish
122 ST. NEOT.
power was not materially weakened. The whole au-
thority was now centred in the person of Guthrum,
who lay with the large division of the army on the
Downs, in Wiltshire. Fresh hordes were continually
arriving from the Baltic to recruit their losses, and
except from the spirit the Saxons had acquired from
the success in Devonshire, Alfred seemed no nearer
his throne than he had been the year preceding : he
had received a promise, however, and he believed.
And now Easter was past, and his adventurous spirit
leading him to neglect no human means of success, in
the disguise of a harper, he visited in person the
Danish camp at Ethendun. He played and sung be-
fore Guthrum himself, and having made his observa-
tions, retired.
And then came Whitsuntide, " and the king rode
forth to Brixton, to Egbert's rock on the eastern side
of Selwood, and all Somersetshire, and all Wiltshire,
and all the men of Hampshire, who had not fled be-
yond the sea, came forth to meet him, and when they
saw him as it were come to life again, after so long
eclipse, they were filled with unrestrainable rapture."
For the tide had turned, the favour of God was coming
back upon them, and those men whom we lately left
desponding cowards, we welcome back the enthusiastic
heroes prepared to do all or die. A refreshing change.
Thus he found himself once more at the head of an
army, and resolved at once to bring matters to an issue.
Humanly speaking, success depended on the blow being
struck swiftly and promptly, before the Danes were
prepared to receive him, and he began his march im-
mediately, in the second week in May, 878. The
Danes were still at Ethendun, and he went directly
toward them. About five miles west of the spot where
THE DANES. 123
they lay, is the small village of Iley : here the Saxons
halted, the night preceding the last battle ; and Alfred
lay there in his tent, and again, as before, appeared the
venerable figure of St. Neot.
" His form was like an angel of Grod ; his hair was
white as snow ; his garments glistening, and fragrant
of the odours of heaven ; he brought armour with him,
and thus addressed the king : ' Rise up in haste, and
prepare for victory ; when thou earnest hither, I was
with thee, I supported thee ; now, therefore, on the
morrow go forth, thou and thy men of war, to the fight,
and the Lord shall be with you, even the Lord strong
and mighty, the Lord mighty in battle, who giveth vic-
tory to kings. And behold, I go before you to the
battle, and thy enemies shall fall by thy arm before
mine eyes, and thou shalt smite them with the edge of
the sword.' "
On the eastern slope of the high range of hills which
rise from the valley of the Avon, lay the camp of the
Danes ; so rapid, so energetic, had been Alfred's move-
ments, that he himself brought the tidings of his rising,
and no hint of danger had reached them to disturb
their quiet. There lay the vast army wrapped in neg-
ligent repose. The morning mist hung like a dull
heavy curtain over the camp. The damp pennons
drooped upon their staffs. The drowsy sentinels were
slumbering at their posts. Not a watch-dog barked,
not a note of alarm was given, while troop after troop
of the Saxons defiled silently over the brow of the hill,
and took their station on the summit of the slope.
Foremost rode king Alfred : his small army was now
all disposed for the charge, and he briefly and impres-
sively addressed them. " Heavily," he said, " has the
scourge of God fallen on us for our sins. Our homes
124 ST. NEOT.
are desolate, our fields wasted, our holy places are de-
stroyed, our priests are fled, and the hands of these
heathen hounds run red with the blood of our dearest
kinsmen. We have suffered, we have been forgiven.
The day of retribution is come. We alone remain of
all the armies of West Saxony ; but we are not alone,
for God is with us. He has said, and will he not per-
form ? This day shall the heathen be delivered into
your hands. On now, therefore, ye servants of the
Most High ! For your God and for your country, for
your hearths and for your homes, fall on and spare
not !" A thousand voices rent the sky, " The Lord
shall give strength to His people. Blessed be God."
A thousand swords flashed back the red rays of the
rising sun. The mist rolled off ; streamed out proudly
the royal standard in the morning breeze, and down
like a mountain torrent crashed the Saxons on their foe.
At that first awful shout, each slumbering Dane had
started into life in terrified surprise. At the first fierce
rush they fled in panic and fell in heaps under the
sword of the destroyer ; yet among their vast hosts
Alfred's army was but as a small river to the broad
ocean, and their scattered bands soon rallied with des-
perate fury. Hell sent her spirits to their aid, the
Yotuns came flashing through the air, and Loki rode
upon his dragon steed and fought for Guthrum, and
backwards and forwards swayed the tide of the battle.
What awful figure is that which has seized king
Alfred's standard, and waves the Saxons on with ma-
jestic hand ? Aslauga's demons knew the servant of the
Mighty One, and fled back howling to their icy prisons.
Terror struck their weapons from the hands of the
Pagans ; they dared not look on him, but fled on every
side. None saw him come ; none save Alfred knew
THE DANES. 125
whence he was ; but there stood Neot, once more upon
a field of battle in the same terrific majesty as the king
before had seen him. High he waved the royal stan-
dard, marshalling the Saxons on to victory. Fierce
and fast they followed on their fainting foe, and gave
no quarter. The measure they had dealt to others was
now dealt to them. Thousands upon thousands lay
dead ; but still pressed on that fearful standard bearer,
and thousands were yet to fall. And the sun rolled on
to the west through that long May day, and made no
comment. It went down, and that terrible carnage
had not ceased which has left so imperishable a record
in the memory of the Wiltshire peasant, that none ever
now pass Slaughter-ford without a shudder and a
prayer. Never again was Neot seen on earth.
A merry peal rung out from the bells of Wedmore, l
and fast came crowding in the people from all the
country round ; for this was the glad day when God's
servants in all the earth meet together to acknowledge
the glory of the Eternal Trinity ; and to offer prayers
for the defence of the true faith of the Church of Christ,
for ever and ever. And this day too in England were
to be offered public thanksgivings to God for its great
deliverance from the heathen. Scattered on the plain
before the town lay the tents of the Saxon army, and
smiled in the bright sunshine ; and banners were
waving, and all were dressed in holiday array and
looked blithe and happy. Nature had dressed herself
in her gayest suit, the earth looked greener, the birds
carolled more livelily ; all creation seemed to have
1 There is reason to think Westminster is the place intended
by this word.
126 ST. NEOT.
joined together in one glad tribute of thanksgiving.
The great Church was thronged with people ; knights
and earls, and all the chivalry of West Saxony were
gathered in the aisles for the festival, and to witness
the great offering which was to be made there that day.
Priests and Bishops so long lain in hiding places for
fear of the Danes, had come forth again, and now stood
in their white robes before the altar. Breathless were
they all with expectation, as the great west door rolled
back, and the procession appeared. Two and two, with
slow and solemn step, a long row of men whose garb
announced them candidates for holy baptism, advanced
towards the font, king Alfred leading them ; and every
heart beat high, and every eye was fixed on that down-
cast man who walked hand in hand with him. There
was not one of them who knew not the fierce monarch
of the Danes, whose ear had not tingled at the name of
Guthrum : his head was bare ; the raven plume so
fearfully familiar amidst scenes of slaughter and deso-
lation, no longer waved over that princely forehead ;
the eye that had flashed forth lightning fires, now
beamed with the mild light of penitence and hope.
Thirty of Norway's boldest sons attended him, with
like demeanour of submission, and the whole train
arranged themselves round the font, and knelt and
prayed. Then, from beside the high altar, rose the noble
bishop Wulfhen, and swept majestically down the
aisle, through the wondering multitude, until he reached
the kneeling group. With stately step he passed within
the circle, and stood beside the font, while with one
consent, these haughty warriors forswore their gods,
and made profession of the Christian faith. Alfred
stood sponsor for the king, and the bishop sprinkled
him with the water of purification, and signed him with
THE DANES. 127
the sign of the cross, and he rose up from the ground,
Guthrum no longer, but Christian Athelstan. Athel-
stan, of all names the dearest to Alfred, as that which
had once belonged to his deliverer, now he chose for
his reconciled enemy, in the hope it might bring a
blessing on him. In like manner, the thirty warriors
were admitted into the Church of Christ, and then all
turned and took the oath of fealty to England's sove-
reign ; Danes and Saxons, joined in Christian brother-
hood, swore eternal peace, and loud pealed the organ
at that joyful sight, and from all the multitude assem-
bled, swelled up with one consent to the everlasting
God a hymn of gratitude and joy.
A LEGEND OF
Bartfjolanuto,
HERMIT AT FARNE, A. D. 1193.
ANY one who reads the Prophets will see that, while
all that relates to the humiliation of our most Blessed
Lord is most literally fulfilled, the accomplishment of
those prophecies which foretell the external glories of
His Church is a matter of faith. Where is the king-
dom of peace, of justice and righteousness which was
to trample upon the oppressor and the warrior ? The
Church is all this imperfectly, and in tendency ; the
wickedness of man has spoilt for a time the work of
God. But notwithstanding all this misery, the pro-
phecies of Christ's kingdom have found a more com-
plete accomplishment in Christ's Saints, who have all
been peaceful, compassionate and zealous for justice.
Kings and warriors have literally bowed down before
the Saints who have taken up against them the cause.
of the poor and the widow. And so it may be also that
other parts of prophecy, which are commonly interpreted
figuratively, have received in a measure a literal fulfil-
ment. For instance, those parts of scripture which re-
late to the animal creation may have been fulfilled
much more literally than is commonly supposed, in some
of Christ's hidden Saints who have given up all for His
HERMIT AT FARNE, A. D. 1193. 129
sake. In proportion as the knowledge of the Lord has
filled the earth, so also may Christ's little ones have
walked unharmed among beasts of prey, or by their
gentleness won to their sides the shyest of the inhabi-
tants of the forest or the rock. If Christ's servants
have for His sake dwelt in " the habitation of dragons
and the court of owls," 1 where " the wild beasts of the
desert meet the wild beasts of the island," what wonder
if "the beasts of the field have honoured them, the
dragons and the owls," 2 " the cormorant and the bit-
tern." 3 He who dwells for Christ's sake in the desert,
" where the satyrs cry unto their fellows," in the dry
places where he seeks rest who can find none, must not
be surprised if he sees strange shapes and hears start-
ling sounds. And many of the words and actions of
our blessed Lord seem to show that it is dangerous to
pronounce too soon that the language of scripture is
figurative, while at the same time they show such a
strange connexion between evil spirits and the animal
creation, that power over the one would seem to imply
a power over the other. During those wonderful days
which he spent in the wilderness, he was with the wild
beasts as well as with devils. He saw Satan fall like
lightning from heaven, and with His leave beings who
had once been angels entered into the filthiest of beasts.
So also the eyes of His Saints may have been opened
to see the shame of the fallen archangel ; and what
wonder if under shapeless and uncouth forms he strives
to scare from his knees the Saint whose prayers and
fasts abridge his usurped dominion.
So also other prophecies connected with the opening
of the invisible world upon the Saints, may have been
1 Is. xi. 6. 2 Is. xxxiv. 13, 14. 3 Is. xviii. 20. Is. xxxiv. 11.
K
130 ST. BARTHOLOMEW.
more literally fulfilled than is commonly believed. It
has been foretold that the sons and daughters of the
Church should prophesy, that the young men should
see visions and the old men dream dreams ; we need
not therefore be startled at meeting with such things in
the history of Christendom in any age. It is true indeed
that from the moment that our blessed Lord disappeared
from the sight of the disciples, that became an object of
faith which before had been seen and handled, even
the glorified body of Him who is at the right hand of
God ; yet we know that He has been pleased to show
Himself in the reality of that body to His apostles, St.
Paul and St. John. Nay one day every eye shall see
Him ; there is therefore nothing contrary to faith in
supposing that even He may have appeared in visions
to His Saints.
All these openings of the invisible world, whether of
good or of evil beings, are of course subject to the pre-
sent imperfection of our nature, and yet this does not
interfere with the reality of them. Our notions of the
ever-blessed Trinity are most dark and imperfect, em-
bodied in human words and human ideas, and yet this
does not prevent there being in them a truth real and ob-
jective, which we know can be as little the creation of
our mind as material things which we see and touch. So
again there have been false Christs and false teachers,
yet there is also the One True Christ with the holy
Doctors of the Church. The visions seen and the
voices heard by the Saints are expressed in terms, so
to speak, of Time and Space to which we are at pre-
sent bound, so that it is often hard to distinguish them
from the phantoms of imagination. The clear spiritual
vision which the Saints possess habitually, may enable
them to discern heavenly things so vividly that their
HERMIT AT FARNE, A. D. 1193. 131
meditations may sometimes take the nature of ecstacy,
without its being possible to fix the exact limits where
contemplation ends and vision begins. Again noises
are heard in the stillness of the night, which are
drowned in the busy hum of day ; and they may have
been mistaken for supernatural sounds ; the chill night
air may have cramped the limbs of a Saint as he knelt
on the cold stones before an altar, and he may have
attributed it to the agency of the wicked one. He may
in these instances have been sometimes right and at
other times wrong, but it would be foolish and faithless
to reject at once the notion that the devil had troubled
a Saint at his prayers. Here at least we cannot weigh
our enlightened experience against the testimony of a
superstitious monk in a benighted age, for what expe-
rience have we of nights spent on the cold ground in
prayer ? As well might the Indian prince urge the ex-
perience of his tender limbs against the fact that the
hardy Englishman ever has to bear the pinching of ice
and snow. Again let no one trouble himself about the
danger of fanaticism ; these are not practical questions
to us ; when we have hermits and monks amongst us,
then let us begin to be anxious about drawing the line
between false visions and true.
All this is a fitting introduction to the life of a Saint
which contains in it many startling and even grotesque
stories, which yet rest on contemporary authority. No
flaw is to be found in dates, 4 and many personages flit
4 The date of St. Bartholomew's death is remarkably fixed by
the circumstance mentioned in his life, that he died in a year on
which the Feast of St. John Baptist was on the seventh Thurs-
day after Ascension-day, which must therefore have fallen on
the sixth of May, and Easter on the twenty-eighth of March.
132 ST. BARTHOLOMEW.
across the wild scene who appear elsewhere as real
beings of flesh and blood in the pages of history. The
life of St. Bartholomew is written by a monk, who
mentions several persons from whom he had heard
what he relates, and who had got their intelligence
from the lips of the Saint himself. The stories rest on
various authorities, some on the testimony of the rude
fishermen who lived on his island, others on that of his
friends ; but it is time that the reader should judge for
himself.
1 . Brother Bartholomew in the world.
Among the hermits of the twelfth century, Bar-
tholomew is a remarkable personage ; his character
stands out clear and distinct amidst the strange tales
told about him, one not unvarying. We may feel start-
led and disgusted that such a figure with an ill smell of
goatskins should come betwixt the wind and our no-
bility ; but, turn away as we will, there he still stands
to reproach our sloth and luxury, the genuine product
This only happened twice in the twelfth century, viz. in 1 182
and 1193. Thus far the Bollandists : but the date is still fur-
ther fixed to 1193 by the fact that he was forty-two years and
six months in the island of Fame ; now if he had died in 1 182, he
would have left Durham in 1140, which cannot be, as it is ex-
pressly stated that he quitted the monastery under Prior Lau-
rence, who did not succeed to the office till 1149. There is a
manuscript in the Bodleian Library in which the life of the
Saint is inscribed by the author, to Bertram, Prior of Durham.
This proves that the life was written under the very Prior, in
whose time the Saint died. The same manuscript gives the
name of the author at full length, and verifies the conjecture of
the Bollandists that it was Galfridus.
HERMIT AT FARNE, A. D. 1193. 133
of an age of faith. He was not always St. Bartholo-
mew ; his parents, whose condition is unknown, gave
him the name of Tosti. He was born at Whitby, in
Yorkshire, in the early part of the twelfth century.
The north of England in the reign of our early Norman
kings, was the stronghold of all that was Saxon ; this
circumstance, as well as his name, makes it probable
that he was of old English blood ; but his companions
laughed at the quaint sound of the Saxon boy's name,
and his parents changed it for the Norman name of
William. In his boyhood and youth he was of a wild
and stubborn character, brought on probably by the
jests of his playfellows, and he cared but little about
spiritual things. Our blessed Lord however did not
leave him without warning. One night he dreamed
that he was in a place of surpassing beauty, and that
there rose before him an intense light, like a cloud of
dazzling white, or the dawn of a beautiful day. As he
gazed on its splendour, he saw our blessed Lord stand-
ing on high, and near Him Mary His mother, and the
apostles Peter and John. Then the blessed Virgin
looked upon him with a sweet countenance and bade
the Apostles lead him to her. When he stood before
her who was called by Christ the mother of His beloved
disciple, and who is the mother of all whom He has
loved eternally, then with a sweet voice she said to
him, Follow thou the steps of my Son, that He may
have pity on thee, and pray humbly to Him who is
merciful. Then William fell on his face and cried
three times, Lord Jesus, have mercy upon me ; and
the Lord lifted up His hand and blessed him. Twice
did this vision appear to him in his sleep, and once
when he was awake ; but great as was the impression
made upon his mind, it bore no open fruit till many
134 ST. BARTHOLOMEW.
years after. Instead of seeking quiet in the bosom of a
monastery, his spirit was still restless and untamed.
He left his country, and in quest of adventures went
into Norway, then the refuge of many discontented
spirits of Saxon blood. 5 He had not long been there
however, when he put himself under the direction of a
priest of the country, and made such spiritual progress
under him, that the Bishop of the place ordained him
priest. Still there was much in him to subdue ; his
spirit was one which delighted to wrestle with the
storms which howl through the forests of those savage
regions, and his curiosity was roused by the dark su-
perstitions which lingered among them. He was once
walking with a youth, who suddenly exclaimed that he
saw an evil spirit. Friend, I would fain see him, was
the answer of the priest. The youth said, Put thy feet
upon mine, that thou touch not the ground, and thou
shalt see him not only now but always. Then William
laughed aloud when he thought of the strange com-
panion which his friend wished to provide for him.
He afterwards used to relate that he bethought himself
just in time that his faith would be in danger, if he, a
Christian priest, had an evil spirit ever before his eyes.
This seems to have contributed to sober his mind, and
he began to think of settling in life, as it is called.
The marriage of priests, though forbidden by the
canons, was not then so uncommon as it afterwards be-
came ; and he cast his eyes on one of the fair damsels
of Norway. The maiden smiled upon him, and the
father favoured his suit, but Christ had other views for
5 Simeon Dunelm. in. ann. 1074. The same authority states
that English priests were in great request in Norway.
HERMIT AT FARNE, A. D. 1193. 135
His servant, and from some unknown cause, he left
Norway unmarried.
Three years had passed over him since he quitted
his native country, and he came back to it a priest and
an altered man ; and almost as soon as he had landed
in England he for a few days officiated in a Church in
Northumberland. Still however he had not found his
place in Christ's kingdom ; the vision with which his
Lord had favoured him in his youth rushed upon his
mind. This seemed to mark him out for some extra-
ordinary mode of life, and with the energy which ever
characterized him, he at once set out for Durham,
where he entered as a novice the Cathedral monastery.
Here when with his newly shaven head and his Bene-
dictine habit, he entered the Church with the rest of
the novices, and as was the custom at Durham, pros-
trated himself before the high altar ; it seemed as if
the figure on the crucifix stretched out its arms to wel-
come this new soldier of the cross. The name which
he took in religion was Bartholomew, after the holy
Apostle, and he soon won the hearts of the brethren by
the gentleness which now appeared in his character,
and by his fervour at the divine office. He had re-
mained for a year in the monastery, training up his
soul to obedience and humility, when he was called
away to another and a sterner scene. St. Cuthbert
appeared to him one night in a dream, and bade him
go to the island of Fame to lead the life of a hermit.
Next morning he enquired of the brethren where this
island lay, for he had never heard of it. He then went
to Prior Laurence and begged for leave to quit the
monastery, to live henceforth on that spot where St.
Cuthbert lived and died. The good Prior shook his
head : a hermit's life was not one for a novice, nor was
136 ST. BARTHOLOMEW.
Fame so pleasant an abode as one who had never seen
it might fancy. Brother Bartholomew's earnestness
however at length prevailed, and with the Prior's
leave, and the prayers of the convent, he set out for his
new abode, early in December, 1151, and in the first
week of Advent.
2. Of the isle in wJiicJi brother 'Bartholomew lived.
If ever monks had a prospect of happiness, it was
the monks of St. Mary and St. Cuthbert at Durham.
The lazy old canons had been expelled and provided
for elsewhere to make room for them, and the discipline
of their monastery was at its height under a holy and
learned Prior. The munificence of kings and Bishops
had placed them above secular cares ; streams were
bridged over, mills erected, and fish ponds dug, for
their sole use. 6 Villages were assigned to them, 7
where dwelt forty merchants to supply their wants, free
of all the customs and tolls paid to the Bishop. Splen-
did buildings were rising about them on every side,
and their chapter house had been but lately finished
for their use. 8 Their altars blazed with gold and j ewels,
and on the high altar was a famous crucifix, adorned
with gems by William the Conqueror. A greater con-
trast to this religious house than Bartholomew's new
dwelling place can hardly be conceived. The island of
Fame is described 9 as a circle of solid rock, the top of
which is thinly strewn over with a layer of barren soil.
B See for instance the account of Ralph Flambard's works,
Anglia Sac. p. 708.
7 Cart. ap. Dugdale, vol. i. p. 237.
8 Anglia Sac. vol. i. 709.
9 This account applies only to the times of Galfridus.
HERMIT AT FARNE, A. D. 1193. 137
On its south side it is separated by a channel of about
two miles in breadth from the shore ; to the east and
west a belt of rocks protect it from the fury of the sea,
while on the north it lies open to the whole force of the
waves, in the midst of which it lies like the broken and
defenceless hull of a shipwrecked vessel. Sometimes
when the tide rises higher than usual, and the wild
storms of that rugged coast come in to its aid, the
waves make an inroad on the land, and the salt foam is
blown over the whole island, wetting the shivering in-
habitant to the skin, and penetrating the crevices of his
habitation. Near the shelving beach which formed the
landing-place, was a low hut of unhewn stone and turf,
built by St. Cuthbert. A narrow path leads up through
the rock into St. Cuthbert's chapel ; it was situated in
a hollow so shut in on all sides by walls of naked rock,
that nothing could be seen from thence of the wide waste
of waters around, or of the landward prospect on the
other side. St. Cuthbert was said by his own labour
to have deepened the hollow, so that when he knelt in
prayer he could see nothing but the blue sky, bright
with stars, far over his head, or resting with its lowering
clouds on the edge of this rocky chamber. Here also
by his prayers a clear stream gushed from the hard
rock, according to the promise of the Lord that He
would give waters in the wilderness, and that it should
spring forth to give drink to His people, to His chosen.
Rough as was the material of which the island was
formed, two springs welled from the depths of the rock,
to which the sailors often came to water their ships ;
and this seems to have been the only natural production
on the spot, which could be obtained without toil.
This unpromising place was not likely to attract inhab-
138 ST. BARTHOLOMEW.
it ants or visitors, and pirates, sailors and fishermen
seem to have been its chief occasional inmates.
Besides the drawbacks which have been mentioned,
the place had an ill name, which would of itself have
kept it lonely. It was said by the people of the coun-
try to be haunted. The islets around it were especially
said to be the habitation of demons, and no fisherman
would have dared to moor his skiff to them after night-
fall. On one islet all shipwrecked mariners were
buried, and there above all, the howls of evil spirits
were said to have been heard mingling with the rise
and fall of the blasts which swept over the long grass
upon their graves. Here also amidst the fantastic
wreaths of mist, the fishermen used to see strange
figures clad in the hoods of monks, and with long
beards pendant from their foul features, riding on goats
and brandishing spears among the tombs ; till crosses
were planted in the sand all round the spot, and the
demons as soon as they saw them, flitted around and
wheeled away into the darkness. It is hard to say why
demons should be supposed to haunt the graves of
Christian mariners, but there were other and better
reasons for thinking that the hermits of St. Cuthbert's
isle were disturbed in their devotions by evil spirits.
Christian corpses were more likely to scare away than
to invite devils ; but Satan would have an object in
frightening away the Saint whose prayers were a thorn
in his side. " He who," says the old monk, whose nar-
rative we follow, " is led by the Spirit into this wilder-
ness, must of necessity be tempted by the devil, and
either practise himself in virtue, or quit this place
which is made for virtue." The advance of Christian-
ity had scared away the evil one, so that he hid himself
in these lonely islets, as he had retired into the sandy
HERMIT AT FARNE, A. D. 1193. 139
deserts of the Thebais, to the wonderful rock of St.
Michael in Normandy, or the shaggy wood from the
depths of which he was driven by St. Seine.
3. How Bartholomew lived in his hermitage.
Bartholomew did not find himself alone in his new
abode ; a monk named Ebwin had established himself
there before him. He had probably also belonged to
the convent of Durham, the authorities of which were
still the spiritual superiors of the hermits of Fame.
From this person the new inmate obtained by no means
a hearty welcome ; he was so much of a hermit that he
would have no one to share his solitude, not even an-
other hermit. Very few men can bear to be alone ;
and without a special vocation, none should make the
attempt. Even our blessed Lord did not go into the
wilderness without being led thither by the Spirit.
Many men however from fanaticism, and wilfulness, or
because their temper has been soured by the ill treat-
ment of the world, have lived and died in solitude.
This is one of the strange freaks of ill-guided human
nature, and can only be distinguished from religious
loveliness by its fruits. Ebwin could live alone, but he
could not bear to have a rival in his loneliness. He
troubled Bartholomew's peace by bitter taunts, intend-
ing to teaze him into anger, or to scare him away alto-
gether. He however failed in his object ; a few years
before he might have succeeded, but Bartholomew had
learned to discipline himself to patience and meekness
in the monastery of Durham. His patient endurance
wore out the obstinacy of his companion ; the island
could well have supported both, but Ebwin did not
140 ST. BARTHOLOMEW.
love partnership, and fairly quitted Farne, leaving him
alone.
The reader probably is curious to know what the
brother Bartholomew could find to do in his new abode.
The question however is easily answered ; he had as
much to do as any labourer who has to work for his
daily bread. He had a cow to tend, and a field, which
must be dug and be sown with barley, and his crops
were to be reaped and gathered in when the harvest
time came round. A strange labourer indeed he was
with his monkish mantle, over which was thrown a
rough and sleeveless cloak lined with shaggy skin !
When he laid down the spade or the reaping hook, his
labours were not over ; he had a boat in which he
wrestled with the wild waves which run violently
among the islets and rocks along the coast, or paddled
over the smooth sea where it lay bright and glittering
beneath the summer sun. Thus he was fisherman,
grazier, and labourer all at once, and as will appear by
and by, he combined the office of pilot as well. But
whatever he was doing, the wind might drive the rain
and the spray, and the sun might shed its burning
beams upon his head, which was never covered by cowl
or cap. This however was but his external employ-
ment. There are wonders in the spiritual world of
which men unused to meditation have no conception,
and which are to be the employment of the blessed in
heaven. Even on earth the holy doctors have spent
their lives in drawing them out in words ; the cher-
ubim desire to look into them ; no one then need be
surprised if a hermit could find occupation in wondering
at such mysteries as the Holy Trinity and all the
events involved in the Incarnation of the Lord. Every
day he offered up the immaculate Lamb in sacrifice to
HERMIT AT FARNE, A. D. 1193. 141
His Father on the altar of St. Cuthberfs oratory. All
day long, whatever he was doing, and a great part of
every night, he was either singing the psalms of David
or kneeling in intercessory prayer. The words of the
psalms were sweeter than honey to his throat, and he
felt them burning in his heart the more he repeated
them, so that he said the whole psalter every day once,
twice, or even three times.
While he was thus striving to have his conversation
in heaven, he took care to take up his cross with Christ,
lest his thoughts should degenerate into a luxurious
self-contemplation. He who suffers with his Lord feels
quite sure of the reality of heaven, and Bartholomew
bearing his cross over the rugged stones of Fame, sym-
pathized, so to speak, with Him who was dead and is
alive, in a way which few can understand. A rough
shirt of hair was worn by him next to his skin ; the
few hours which he could spare from psalmody and
prayer during the night, were spent upon a pallet from
which the hardiest of the world's soldiers would have
shrunk. It was simply a few bed coverings thrown
upon a hurdle ; surely no very loud alarum would be
needed to rouse a man from such a bed as this. Long
fasts and a perpetual abstinence from meat subdued his
body to his soul ; for the first few years of his sojourn
on the island, he used to eat the fish which he had
caught by his own labour ; but he afterwards gave up
even this poor indulgence. Prayer and fasting are the
weapons appointed by our blessed Lord to subdue every
kind of evil spirit. He Himself, though clothed in the
flesh that had sinned was invincible, because He was
the Lord from heaven ; and yet He fasted for forty
days, and at last felt the pangs of hunger before he en-
countered the wily tempter. How then could His ser-
142 ST. BARTHOLOMEW.
vant fire in the place of devils without putting on the
armour which the Lord had sanctified for his use.
4. How brother Bartholomew was not always alone.
Stern as was his mode of life, Bartholomew's body
was not worn, nor his spirit broken ; his face instead
of being pale and emaciated, had a healthful colour ;
" so that," says the monk, " one would have supposed
him to have pampered his body on dainties." Sadness
he ever accounted to be a sin, and his blithe counte-
nance and cheerful speech bore witness to the doctrine
which he professed. And he soon found that hermit
as he was, he would have numerous opportunities of
testing his kindness of heart and sweetness of temper.
The island had ever been from time to time visited by
Norwegian and Danish sailors, and the poor fishermen
who lived on the opposite coast often came to pray in
St. Cuthbert's oratory before they began their night of
toilsome labour. These were the poor ones of the
earth, and the hermit delighted in instructing them.
When the northern sailors were windbound in this
rugged part, he soothed their impatience and even from
his own little store contrived to help them when their
provisions failed. He once even killed his cow, when
he had nothing else to set before some poor strangers
who had nothing to eat. His kindness won the hearts
of the rough sailors, and his holiness taught them reve-
rence for the Lord whose servant he was. Christ also
enlightened the hermit's soul, so that he was able to
foretell the dangers of the weather ; and if he bade
them go in God's name and blessed them, they would
always set sail though the black clouds scudded across
HERMIT AT FARNE, A. D. 1193. 143
the sky, and the winds howled and the waves were
dashed against the capes which stretched beyond each
other along the shore. They applied to him in every
difficulty, and he thus had numerous opportunities of
tempering their ferocity ; they believed that all his
warnings came to pass, and hardly durst disobey him.
On one occasion a boy, belonging to a vessel, had gone
down into the boat to fish, and had forgotten to tie it
to the stern ; the consequence was, that the boy was
carried off by the current among the rocks and shoals.
The poor sailors as usual came to the hermit's cell, and
cried out, " Brother Bartholomew, come and help us."
He came out smiling and said, " Why do ye call me,
and what will ye have me do ?" On hearing of their
trouble, he accompanied them on board their vessel,
and (though it does not appear how) the boy and the
boat soon appeared safe and sound. The captain im-
mediately seized on the lad and took up a stick to pun-
ish him severely. The hermit stayed the hand of the
brutal man, and bade him remember that no one was
to be punished in this holy island. The captain replied
that he was not in the island, but on the deck of his
vessel ; and although the holy man foretold that he
should suffer for his cruelty, he beat the boy unmerci-
fully. When the vessel returned, the sailors told bro-
ther Bartholomew that the captain had died the second
day of the voyage. It was not long however before
the fame of his sanctity brought visitors of a different
stamp from his poor friends the sailors. Every man
who lives under a sense of right and wrong must often
have been troubled not only with temptations to visita-
tions of duty, but with perplexities as to what in parti-
cular cases is his duty. He who lets himself quietly
float down the stream of life, knows nothing of the
144 ST. BARTHOLOMEW.
mysteries of his own being, and of the troubles which
may arise in the soul of a Christian apparently without
external cause ; but they who venture more boldly
forth for Christ's sake, soon find that they have an in-
ward as well as an outward cross to bear. " They who
go down to the sea in ships, and occupy their business
in great waters, these men see the wonders of the Lord
in the deep." The soul of the penitent too is in fearful
need of guidance when first the whole horrors of sin
bursts upon it. For cases such as these, Christianity
has created a science of spiritual things, and all the
fearful diseases of the religious mind have been ex-
amined and classified by Catholic doctors. Yet after
all none is so well qualified to carry the theory of this
science into practice as he who has learnt by intense
self-examination, and by spiritual asceticism to know
himself and the wiles of the tempter. It is a gentle
craft which soothes the aching soul, and pours oil and
wine into the wounds of him who has been half dead ;
and Bartholomew soon found that his fame as a physi-
cian brought men from all parts to kneel at his feet.
Men of all ranks came before him in this tribunal of con-
fession, and many a high born oppressor of the poor
bowed down, and trembled before the goat-skin garment
of the poor hermit. Who but such a confessor could have
forced men like the wild border barons of the north
to relax their iron grasp on the spoils of the poor and
to atone for their sins by penance ? Nor was this all :
many a poor monk who was afflicted with dryness of
heart, and went through his offices with listlessness and
distaste, was taught by him to be patient till Christ
visited his soul with the waters of consolation.
The sweet gentleness of his temper was such that it
appeared in his countenance and his gait. Even the
HERMIT AT FARNE, A. D. 1193. 145
wild birds on the sea shore learned not to fly away at
the approach of the figure, which glided gently by
them on the sea-shore, or so often remained immovable
wrapt in contemplation. The habits of the sea gulls
and cormorants which abound on that lonely island
seem to have struck Galfridus with admiration. The
eyder ducks especially raised his wonder ; they came
regularly at certain seasons in large flocks to deposit
their eggs, and while sitting in their nests never feared
the approach or even the touch of man. When how-
ever the young ones were hatched, they became as wild
as ever, and the whole party took to the waters again,
and migrated from the island. Bartholomew allowed
no one to cast stones at the birds : he even tamed one
of them, which came regularly to feed out of his hand
every day. Unfortunately however when he was out
fishing, a hawk pursued this poor bird into the chapel,
and killed it, leaving the feathers and the bones lying
on the portal of the holy place. The assassin however
could not find his way out of the chapel, and kept
wheeling round and round the building, beating against
the windows and the walls. At this time brother Bar-
tholomew entered and found the cruel bird with its
talons and bill still bloody. He mourned bitterly over
the fate of his poor favourite, and caught the hawk ;
he kept it for two days without food, to punish it for
its crime, and then, seized with compassion, let go his
guilty prisoner. At another time the Saint was sitting
on the sea shore, when he was surprised to feel a cor-
morant close by his side, pulling with its bill the corner
of his garment. He rose and followed the bird ^ng
the beach, till he came to a hole in the rock down which
one of the young ones had fallen. He soon extricated
L
146 ST. BARTHOLOMEW.
the trembling bird from its danger, and restored it to
its mother.
As brother Bartholomew had taken upon himself
that mode of life of which our blessed Lord gave a
model when he retired into the wilderness, so he suf-
fered also the same sort of temptations. The wild and
lonely island on which he served Christ, had always, as
we have said, the reputation of being the special abode
of evil spirits. Desolate places have often an ill name ;
amid the hum of worldly occupations and the glare of
day, Satan appears not, for men think not of him, and
why should he arouse them from their security ? but
when men of God retire into desolate places to serve
Christ, then Satan unmasks himself, for they have no
lethargy in which he would leave them, and they have
ventured into the wilderness, his own peculiar dwelling
place. They are his open enemies, and he has been
known to meet them openly. As the devil under loath-
some shapes had striven to frighten away St. Antony,
so he attacked Bartholomew. Foul and hideous shapes
of wild beasts seemed to frisk about him when he was
at his prayers ; and frightful visages grinned upon him
out of the darkness. He often felt a hand plucking his
cowl when he was on his knees, and even at the very
altar the devil strove to divert his attention by seizing
the border of his chasuble. One dark morning, when
matins were over, and the lamp in the oratory was ex-
tinguished, as he was lying prostrate on the steps of
St. Mary's altar, he felt a weight over all his limbs and
a choking sensation in his throat, which he ever attri-
buted to the evil spirit. For some time he was unable
to speak, but at last he shook off the impediment, and
cried upon St. Mary for help. This is but a specimen
of the attacks under which he suffered, and against
HERMIT AT FARNE, A. D. 1193. 147
which his only weapons were the sign of the cross and
the holy water, with which he sprinkled his cell.
5. Hoiv Prior Thomas lived and died at Fame.
For five years did the hermit remain at Fame, the
only inhabitant of the island ; but events were taking
place at Durham which were to furnish him with a
companion in his hermitage. The Prior Laurence had
died in the meanwhile, and had been succeeded by
Prior Absolon, who had died also, and had left the dig-
nity to a brother of the monastery, named Thomas.
Up to this time internal peace seems to have reigned at
Durham, but now they had got a Bishop who seemed
anxious to be Bishop and Prior at once. The Priors
of Durham were great men indeed ; when William of
Carilpho replaced the secular canons with lay monks of
St. Benedict, he gave the Prior all the ancient rights of
the dean of the chapter, and many more besides. Many
fair manors and broad lands were then given to the
convent and carefully separated from the property of
the see. Over these the Prior had the rights of a feu-
dal baron, with Sak and Sok, Tol and Theam, and
Infangthief, and 1 all the various powers which have to
our ears a most barbarous sound, but which neverthe-
less conveyed a most substantial privilege. Besides
which the Prior sat in a stall on the left hand side of
the choir, with all the rights of an Abbot ; he appointed
all the officials of the convent, and he officiated at the
1 Sok arid Sak imply the right of holding a court, Tol, that
of levying tolls. Theam that of restraining and judging bonds-
men. Infangthief, that of punishing a thief caught on one's
own fief.
148 ST. BARTHOLOMEW.
altars of the Cathedrals as in his own Church. But
though the Prior of Durham was a great man, the
Bishop was a greater, and a prelate now sate on the
throne who was disposed to make the most of his au-
thority. Hugh Pudsey had been vehemently opposed
by the Cistercian interest, that is, by Henry Arch-
bishop of York, and by St. Bernard, but on the death
of Eugenius had succeeded in obtaining the confirma-
tion of his election from his successor. He was a mag-
nificent prelate, and afterwards offered Richard to ac-
company him at the head of his own troops to the Holy
Land. The warlike monarch however preferred the
Bishop's money to his personal services, and left him
behind as High Justiciar of England. It should be
said however for Hugh Pudsey, that the monks do not
seem to have disliked, though they feared him ; at
least he did not go so far as his successor, who turned
away the water courses of the monks, attempted to
force his way into the chapter, and ah* but plucked the
Prior down from the altar one feast of St. Cuthbert. 2
However Hugh Pudsey seems to have reigned absolute
in the Abbey, and when the Prior Thomas opposed his
will, the monks were weak enough to allow him to be
deposed in direct violation of their original charter.
Thomas, weary of the bickerings and cabals among
which he had been living, determined to spend the rest
of his days in strict penitence at Fame.
The coming of this new inmate was a trial to Bar-
tholomew ; he had as yet been uncontrolled in his re-
ligious exercises, he had now to consult the comfort of
another. It was now to be proved whether he was so
wedded to his austerities as not to give up as many of
2 Anglia Sacra, vol. i. 728.
HERMIT AT FARNE, A. D. 1193. 149
them as were shown to be against the will of God. He
began well, for he threw off the hair shirt which he
had now worn for five years, because from long usage
it had become foul and fetid, and would disgust his
companion. An unhappy cause of discussion however
occurred, which marred the harmony even of this small
society. Thomas could not bear the long fasts to which
Bartholomew was accustomed, and Bartholomew would
not remain at his, meals as long as Thomas wished.
The ex -Prior, though the brother in every respect gave
up to his will, grew angry and called him a hypocrite.
Bartholomew remained silent under his reproaches, but
could not wait to endure them ; he fled back to the
monastery of Durham, and the brethren were one day
astonished to see this strange figure rise up as it were
from the invisible world among them. Thomas imme-
diately recognized his fault, and bewailed the loss of
his companion with tears. It was not however till the
Prior entreated, and the convent commanded, and the
Bishop warned, that brother Bartholomew could be
prevailed upon to return to Fame. This affair was
however of use to both : Thomas learned to command
his temper, and Bartholomew also learned a lesson of
patience. From that day forth they lived together in the
greatest harmony. Another advantage was gained ;
the convent promised to supply them with a stock of
provisions and a suit of clothes every year, so that he
could now give alms and better supply the wants of his
friends the sailors from the produce of his own labour.
It is not known how long Thomas remained on the
island ; it is probable however that his weary pilgrim-
age was soon ended. The closing scene of it is all that
is recorded. A brother of the convent, who was pre-
sent, relates that while angels floated before the eyes of
150 ST. BARTHOLOMEW.
the dying man, Bartholomew, who was watching by his
side, saw a foul and hideous monster crouching in a
corner of the room, and mourning over the future glory
of the soul which was passing away ; and it was some
time before he could drive it away with the holy water
which lay as usual near the bed of death.
6 . How brother Bartholomew closed his days in peace.
The even tenor of a hermit's life does not admit of
much variety, and little remains to be told though he
lived in all forty-two years and six months on the
island. Towards the close of his life the invisible
world seems several times to have opened upon him in
visions. William, a monk of Durham, related to Gal-
fridus how in the dead of night he was reciting with
Bartholomew the office of the blessed Virgin, when he
saw through the east window the sky shining with an
intense supernatural blaze, which lighted the whole of
the dark oratory. The same brother also related to
Galfridus a vision which he had heard from the her-
mit's lips. Bartholomew said that on the joyful night
of our Lord's nativity, after having said the midnight
mass, he had quitted St. Cuthbert's chapel to see if
morning had yet dawned upon the sea, and it was time
to begin the second mass ; on returning to the oratory
he was astonished to see at the altar a priest of a vene-
rable aspect in pontifical vestments ready to officiate.
In awe and wonder he drew near, and the priest went
through the Holy Sacrifice, and then vanished away
leaving on Bartholomew's mind the certainty that the
blessed Cuthbert had descended to officiate in the
ehapel in which lie had passed so many hours when on
HERMIT AT FARNE, A. D. 1193. 151
earth. All these things prepared the hermit to expect
his end, and he felt quite sure that he was to die, when
one night as he was watching in prayer, his bell rung
three times with a low and gentle sound, though no
human hand had touched it. Shortly after this, on
Ascension-day, 1193, he fell ill, though his disease
seems to have been old age rather than any other. He
told some of his visitors that his end was approaching,
and the brethren of Lindisfarne from that moment often
came to see him ; some monks of Coldingham whom he
especially loved, also came to visit him for the last time.
For seven weeks during which his illness lasted, he
neither ate nor drank. For many years before, he had
had no bed but the hard ground, and now he would not
allow one to be made, but remained in a sitting posture,
sometimes even rising and walking about. But what-
ever he did he was wrapt in prayer, and hardly spoke
at all. Shortly before he died, the brethren who were
standing around were frightened by strange and loud
noises on the roof, and one fancied that a shapeless
form had alighted on the ground, close behind him.
The servant of God roused himself, and said, " Wretch,
what dost thou here ? thou hast lost thy labour, for
thou canst find nothing in me." The brethren asked
him where he would be buried ; he answered, " I
would have my body lie here, where I hope that my
spirit will be received by its Creator, and where I have
fought during a very little time for the Lord, and have
suffered many tribulations for that consolation which
is in heaven." On the feast of the Nativity of St. John
Baptist, he fell asleep in the Lord. As soon as his
soul had passed away, a brother of Lindisfarne dreamed
that Bartholomew was dead. He immediately aroused
the convent, and a party of monks at once manned a
152 ST. BARTHOLOMEW.
little vessel, and crossed the waters which separate
Fame from the Holy Island. When these hooded
sailors had brought their vessel into the little harbour,
they found that the brother had spoken truth. Bar-
tholomew was lying dead ; not far from him, they
found a stone coffin which he had some time before
procured. When it had arrived, he had laid himself
down full length within it, and had found that it was
too short. With his own hands he then had chis-
elled out the stone till it was large enough to contain
his whole body. In this coffin which he had prepared,
they now laid him with many tears. 5 He was buried
on the south side of the chapel, close to the fountain
which sprung from the earth at St. CuthbertY prayers.
There his body probably still lies,, forgotten and un-
known. The spirit however of the holy men who once
lived in Fame seems still to dwell there. It was on
Bartholomew's island that that Christian maiden lived
who not many years ago ventured her life to save the
crew of a shipwrecked vessel, and whom God has now
taken to Himself.
3 This last circumstance is mentioned in the Bodleian manu-
script before mentioned. The Bollandists unfortunately lost
the last pages of their manuscript, and therefore only copied
the close of the Saint's life from Capgrave. It should be added,
that the Bollandists mention several English martyrologies in
which St. Bartholomew is named on the 24th of June.
HENRY MOZLEY AND SONS, PRINTERS, DERBY.
