Chapter VIII: The Monks and Their Ways (1)

ORIGIN AND PROGRESS OF MONACHISM.

As early as the second century men and women began to feel the charm of a peaceful, contemplative life, wholly severed from the selfish, sensual, and brutish ways of large communities. Hence they were attracted to deserts and secluded places, and to seek happiness by living entirely alone. It is thought this turn of religious life was first developed in Egypt. About 378 St. Basil, afterwards Bishop of Cæsarea, introduced monachism into Asia Minor, and thence into the East, and he enjoined poverty, obedience, chastity, and self-mortification as the great objects to be kept in view. A peculiar habit was found to answer best to this kind of life. Both monks and nuns chose plain coarse clothes and girdles. The monks went barelegged, and their hair was more or less shaven. In 529 St. Benedict, an Italian of noble birth, instituted a code of conduct for his monastery on Monte Cassino, a hill between Rome and Naples, and added manual labour for seven hours a day. St. Augustine, the apostle to the Anglo-Saxons, about 596, belonged to the Benedictine order, and so did St. Dunstan, about 930. The habit of the Benedictines consisted of a white woollen cassock, and over that an ample black gown and a black hood. The female houses had also a white under-garment, a black gown and black veil, with a white wimple round the face and neck. The monks of Clugny, in Burgundy, founded in 927, abandoned manual labour and devoted themselves more to contemplative studies. The Clugniacs, the Carthusians, the Cistercians, and the orders of Camaldoli and Grandmont, all sprang from the Benedictine order, each having their own variations. St. Bernard joined the Cistercians in 1113. The Augustinians were a milder order than the Benedictines, and were divided into canons secular and canons regular. A branch of the Augustinians were the military orders, or Knights of the Temple, who arose about 1118, after the experience of the Crusaders, and devoted themselves to escorting pilgrims to Jerusalem and the holy places.

THE MIRACLES AND WORSHIP OF THE MONKS.

Gibbon sums up his account of the monks as follows: "The monastic saints, who excite only the contempt and pity of a philosopher, were respected and almost adored by the prince and people. The Christian world fell prostrate before their shrines, and the miracles ascribed to their relics exceeded at least in number and duration the spiritual exploits of their lives. But the golden legend of their lives was greatly embellished by the artful credulity of their interested brethren; and a believing age was easily persuaded that the slightest caprice of an Egyptian or a Syrian monk had been sufficient to interrupt the eternal laws of the universe. The favourites of Heaven were accustomed to cure inveterate diseases with a touch, a word, or a distant message, and to expel the most obstinate demons from the souls or bodies which they possessed. They familiarly or imperiously commanded the lions and serpents of the desert, infused vegetation into a sapless trunk, suspended iron on the surface of the water, passed the Nile on the back of a crocodile, and refreshed themselves in a fiery furnace. These extravagant tales, which display the fiction without the genius of poetry, have seriously affected the reason, the faith, and the morals of the Christians. Their credulity debased and vitiated the faculties of the mind; they corrupted the evidence of history, and superstition gradually extinguished the hostile light of philosophy and science. Every mode of religious worship which had been practised by the saints, every mysterious doctrine which they believed was fortified by the sanction of Divine revelation, and all the manly virtues, were oppressed by the servile and pusillanimous reign of the monks."

PHILOSOPHY OF MONKERY.

Dr. Johnson said: "I do not wonder that, where the monastic life is permitted, every order finds votaries and every monastery inhabitants. Men will submit to any rule by which they will be exempted from the tyranny of caprice and of chance. They are glad to supply by external authority their own want of constancy and resolution, and court the government of others, when long experience has convinced them of their own inability to govern themselves."

MOTIVES FOR BECOMING MONKS.

It would be vain to analyse the many modes by which men were induced to become monks. It has been remarked that young men who became monks out of penitence for their sins were most distinguished for zeal. Men of the first rank, struck by the force of momentary impressions or by sudden reverses of fortune, reminded of the uncertainty of worldly goods, the nearness of death, the vanity of earthly glory, would go into solitude as anchorites or enter a monastery. About 1090 Count Ebrard, of Breteuil, a youth of family and fortune, suddenly forsook all his pleasures, and went about earning his bread as an itinerant charcoal burner, and then for the first time found true peace of mind. Another noble youth, named Simon, about the same time was so struck by the transitoriness of wealth on seeing his father's dead body, that he also became a monk. Many were driven by sickness, poverty, shame, and remorse to do likewise. Those driven into monasteries by the fear of death were said soon to lose their firmness of purpose. Once St. Bernard, when visiting Count Theobald of Champagne, and seeing a crowd following a robber who was about to be executed, begged of the count to give up to him the criminal to be reformed, and Bernard converted him into an exemplary monk, who lived such for thirty years thereafter. Another monk, Bernard, who lived on a desert island near Jersey, made such an impression on a band of pirates, that when afterwards they were on the point of shipwreck and in fear of sudden death, they remembered the good advice of the hermit, and repented, returned, and joined him in holy exercises for the rest of their days. Anselm of Canterbury, when discoursing on the virtues of monks and the temptations of worldly life, said, "It was true that it was not monks only who are saved. Still, it may be asked, Which of the two attains salvation in the most certain and noble way--he who seeks to love God alone, or he who seeks to love God and the world too at the same time? Was it rational, when danger is on every side, to choose to remain where the danger is greatest?"

THE WEAK SIDE OF MONACHISM.

Though there were many good points in monachism, the Fathers were not slow to point out its defects. Chrysostom lamented that Christian virtue which ought to dwell in cities had fled into deserts. Vigilantius observed, "If all Christian men shut themselves up in cloisters and withdrew into deserts, who shall preach the Gospel and call sinners to repentance?" There was one Roman monk named Jovinian, sometimes called a prototype of Luther, and obviously before his time, who was uncompromising in his denunciations of the whole system. "There is," he said, "one and the same Divine life springing from fellowship with the Redeemer, in which all genuine Christians share, and a higher stage cannot exist." But in spite of all cavils the system held its ground down to the time of Luther. As Neander remarks: "The more the monks occupied themselves with their temptations, instead of looking from themselves to the Lord, so much the more those temptations increased, many of which they could easily have overcome if they had been willing to forget themselves in an activity of a calling that would have laid under requisition all the powers of their nature; on which account they felt the need of occupying by manual labour, such as basket-making and other handicrafts, the senses and lower powers of their nature."

ST. BENEDICT AT MONTE CASSINO (A.D. 528).

St. Benedict was born in 480, and gave a fresh impetus to monkish communities and devised better laws. After some experience in other places, he selected one of the heights of the Apennines for the great capital of the monastery orders--namely, Monte Cassino. He combined agriculture and woodcutting with exercises of piety, and introduced a more severe system of discipline. Many young nobles flocked to take up their abode. They acted as missionaries and almsmen to the poor. After fourteen years' presiding over the monastery, he had a last interview with his sister Scholastica, whom he survived forty days. A violent fever seized him, and he ordered his sister's tomb to be opened for him, and himself to be carried to the chapel of John the Baptist. Then, supported by his disciples, he insisted on standing and receiving the holy _viaticum_, and extending his arms and uttering his prayers, he died standing like a sentinel at his post. His influence lasted a thousand years; his relics were carefully guarded and taken to France. In the eleventh century one of his bones was sent from France to Monte Cassino, and there received with great enthusiasm.

THE REFORMERS OF MONKERY (A.D. 528-1226).

Though Benedict was a great reformer of the monks by introducing systematic labour into the spiritual life, and though his new order of things began with so fair a promise and had done wonders, yet the monks had by degrees yielded to the treacherous influences of fame, ease, and wealth. The Benedictine monasteries were filled with scholars, whose devotion was directed more to the preservation of classic texts than the performance of the Divine office; with luxurious monks, strangers to fasting and unused to vigils, revelling in the good things of life, and in their rich revenues; then abbots were lords and rulers living in princely state, and riding out on richly caparisoned palfreys. The old humility of the monastic life was lost; they took part in state intrigues, dictated laws to kings, shook the thrones of monarchs who had offended them, and began to aspire after worldly power and dominion. At last St. Francis arose in 1180, the founder of the Friars Minors, who discovered that there was nothing in the world really great and thoroughly satisfactory except poverty and self-humiliation, accompanied with efficient street preaching. St. Dominic also about the same time introduced mendicancy, or the absence of wealth, as part of the system of life. Yet in course of time both these last systems broke down, long before the period of the Reformation.

EARLY DIFFICULTIES OF MONASTERIES (A.D. 600).

When the Irish abbot Columban (who died 615) left the monastery of Bangor, where he had been reared, he became at the age of thirty consumed with a zeal to found a monastery of his own; and having obtained his abbot's permission, he went off with twelve youths to France, and they betook themselves to an immense wilderness in Vosges, and chose the ruins of an old castle as a settlement. As the monks were obliged to till the adjoining land, they at first suffered greatly from hunger. At one time the monks had nothing to eat but the bark of trees and wild herbs; and what made matters worse, one of their number was sick, and the others could do nothing to relieve him. Three days they spent in prayer, seeking relief for their sick brother, when suddenly they saw a man standing at the door of the convent, whose horses were laden with sacks of provisions. The man told them that he had felt an indescribable impulse to go and assist with his means those who from love to Christ endured such privations in the wilderness. Another time they had for nine days suffered similar want, when the heart of another abbot moved him to send provisions. When a foreign priest once visited them and expressed surprise at their cheerfulness amid such trials, Columban only said, "If people faithfully serve their Creator, they will suffer no want; for in the Psalms it is said, 'I have never seen the righteous forsaken, nor his seed begging bread.' He who could satisfy five thousand men with five loaves can easily fill our barns with meal."

ADVICE TO MONKS SETTLING IN A FOREST (A.D. 650).

When the Abbot Ebrolf settled with his monks in the seventh century in a thick forest inhabited by wild beasts and robbers, one of the robbers, struck with awe at the simplicity of the newcomers, said to them, "You have not chosen a suitable place for yourselves. The inhabitants of this forest live by robbery, and can endure nobody near them who seeks to support himself by the labour of his hands. This is no place for you." The monk answered, "Know, my brother, that the Lord is with us; and since we are under His protection, we fear not the threatenings of men who can kill the body, but cannot kill the soul. Know that He will supply His servants abundantly with food even in a desert. And thou also, my friend, mayst be a partaker of these riches, if thou wilt renounce thy evil vocation and vow to serve the true and living God. Despair not of God's goodness on account of the greatness of thy sins, but be assured the eyes of the Lord are upon the righteous, and His ears are open to their cry, and the face of the Lord is against them that do evil, to cut off the remembrance of them from the earth." Upon this the robber departed, meditating upon these words, which to him were so extraordinary. The next morning he hastened back to the monks, carrying to the abbot a present, such as his poverty could furnish, of three coarse loaves and a honeycomb, and professing his willingness to join them and become a monk. After his example other robbers were from time to time persuaded either to become monks or to labour honestly for a livelihood with their own hands.

A MONK DENOUNCES THE FEROCITY OF LOMBARD KINGS (A.D. 749).

The monk Paul Diaconus was at Court in the time of King Rutchis (A.D. 744-749), and relates having himself seen that king after a banquet show the famous goblet which Albuin had made of the skull of Cummund, King of the Gepidi. As is known, Albuin had killed King Cummund in battle, and afterwards married his daughter Rosamund, and used on solemn occasions to drink out of his skull, which had been made into a cup. One day Albuin commanded that the goblet should be handed to the Queen, calling upon her to drink gaily with her father. This horrible outrage was at a later time cruelly avenged by Rosamund. Paul Diaconus, on seeing the goblet and remembering this brutal act of a former king, made this entry in his memoirs: "Lest this should seem incredible to any, take note that I speak the truth in Christ, for indeed I saw on a certain feast day King Rutchis holding this cup in his hand and showing it to his guests."

ANOTHER BENEDICT TRIES TO MAKE THE MONKS WORK (A.D. 780).

Amid the growing demoralisation of monasteries, Benedict of Aniane, whose original name was Witïza, when a boy, was cup-bearer in the Court of Pepin, and continued with Charlemagne. In returning from Rome in 774, in the retinue of that king, he narrowly escaped drowning in attempting to save his brother. This turned his thoughts towards joining a monastery, which he soon entered, and at once excelled in all the austerities. He macerated his body by excessive fasting, clothed himself with rags, which soon swarmed with vermin, slept little and on the bare ground, never bathed, courted derision and insult like a madman, and expressed his fear of hell in loud outcries. On the death of his abbot Benedict became his successor, and built a little hermitage on the bank of the river Aniane. Some monks tried to live with him, but found the regimen too severe; others succeeded better. He and his monks resolved to build a monastery between them. They had no oxen to drag the materials, and they did the work themselves. The walls were of wood, the roof thatched with straw, the vestments were coarse, the vessels of wood, but all of their own making. They lived chiefly on bread and water, sometimes a little milk, and on Sundays a scanty allowance of wine. Yet it was noticed that they soon tended to greater luxury and splendour, for in 782 the wooden monastery was replaced by one more solid--marble and decorations and costly vessels. Charlemagne himself contributed, and exempted the building from all taxes; and he appointed Benedict and two others to collect and recast the rules of monasteries and nunneries. Benedict to the last helped to plough and dig and reap, and died in 821, aged seventy.

IMPROVEMENTS IN MONASTICISM (A.D. 780).

When Benedict, Abbot of Aniane, in Languedoc, born in 750, left the Court in early life, disgusted with its ways and bent on monastic labours, thought of founding a new monastery, he found the system then in vogue far too lax. He taught his monks to accustom themselves to earn a living by their own industry, and then do the utmost good with their earnings. When starving crowds came to his new settlement, he taught them to join in storing all the grain that could be spared till next harvest, and each made his portion support himself and supply a surplus, as a boon to the needy ones outside. The monastery was also turned into an industrial centre for library work. Louis the Pious thought so well of these improvements in discipline, that he drew up a code in 817 on the same principles, and circulated it throughout the Frankish Empire. Benedict used to say, "If it seem to you impossible to observe many of the commandments, then try only this one little commandment: 'Depart from evil and learn to do good.'"

A MONK AT COURT WRITES HOME TO HIS OLD CONVENT (A.D. 750).

Paul Diaconus was for some time a monk at Monte Cassino, on the banks of the Moselle, and was sent to the Court of Charlemagne to use influence to obtain a pardon for his brother, then in banishment. The King treated him well, and Paul thus wrote to Theodomar, the abbot: "Although my body is separated by a vast distance, yet my affection for you can never suffer any diminution, nor can I hope to express in a letter, and within the brief limit of these lines, how constantly and profoundly I am moved by the thought of your affection and that of my elders and brethren. For when I consider the leisure, filled with sacred occupations, the delectable refuge of my dwelling, your pious and holy dispositions--when I think of the holy band of so many soldiers of Christ, zealous in all Divine offices, and the shining examples of special excellence in particular brethren, and the sweet converse we had on the perfections of our celestial home--I tremble, I gaze, I languish, I cannot restrain my tears, and my breast is rent with many sighs. I am living amongst Catholics and followers of Christian worship. I am well received. All show me abundant kindness for the love of our Father Benedict and for the sake of your own merits. But compared to your convent, this palace is a prison in contrast to the great serenity of your life; my life here seems only a continual storm. I am only detained in this country by the weakness of my body, but my whole soul goes out to you. Now I seem to be in the midst of your Divine songs, now to be sitting with you in the refectory, where the reading is even more satisfying than the bodily food. Now, methinks, I am watching each at his own special work, now inquiring into the health of the aged and sick, now wearing with my feet the tombs of the saints, who are dear to me as heaven itself."

THE MONKS FIRST DRINKING WINE IN ENGLAND (A.D. 760).

Fuller, in his "Church History," says that about 760 the bill of fare of monks was bettered generally in England, and more liberally indulged in their diet. It was first occasioned when Ceolwolphus, formerly King of Northumberland, but then a monk in the convent of Lindisfarne, or Holy Island, gave leave to that convent to drink ale and wine, anciently confined by Aidan, their first founder, to milk and water. Let others dispute whether Ceolwolphus thus dispensed with them by his new abbatical or old regal power, which he so resigned that in some cases he might resume it, especially to be king in his own convent. And indeed the cold, raw, and bleak situation of that place, with many bitter blasts from the sea and no shelter on the land, speaks itself to each inhabitant there. This local privilege, first justly indulged to the monks of Lindisfarne, was about this time extended to all the monasteries in England, whose primitive over-austerity in abstinence was turned now into a self-sufficiency that soon improved into plenty, that quickly depraved into riot, and that at last occasioned their ruin.

CHARLEMAGNE HAS HIS DOUBTS ABOUT MONKERY (A.D. 800).

The monasteries were growing rich in the time of Charlemagne, and he saw many weak points in the system. He thought many made false professions of withdrawing from the world and entering as monks merely to escape military service. He therefore made an order in 805 that those who forsake the world shall be obliged to live strictly as canons or monks according to rule. In 811 the King censured the abbots as caring only to swell the number of their monks, and to obtain good chanters and readers without caring about their morals. He asked sarcastically how the monks and clergy understood the text against entangling themselves with worldly affairs: whether those could be said to have forsaken the world who were incessantly striving to increase their possessions by all sorts of means--who used the hopes of heaven and the terrors of hell, the names of God and the saints, to extort gifts not only from the rich, but from the poor and ignorant, and by diverting property from the lawful heirs drive these to theft and robbery. "How," asked the King, "can they be said to have forsaken the world who suborn perjury in order to acquire what they covet, who keep what secular property they can get and surround themselves with bands of armed men?" In that age abbots as well as bishops were addicted to war, as well as hunting and hawking, to games of chance, and to the society of minstrels and jesters. Gross immorality was winked at among the recluses of both sexes. That state of things led to the appearance of St. Benedict, a renowned reformer of monkish life (_ante_, p. 212).

LEAVING CHARLEMAGNE'S COURT TO BE MONK (A.D. 801).

Duke William had well served Charlemagne and often routed the infidels, but at last in 801 he resolved to retire from the world and be a monk in a desert in the Cevennes. But he must first obtain the consent of his King, and in seeking an interview he began: "My lord, you know how I have loved you more than my life and the light of day. I have followed you in the field and been always ready to lay down my life for you. Now I ask leave to become a soldier of the Eternal King. I have long vowed to retire to a monastery and renounce the world." At these words Charlemagne's eyes overflowed with tears, and he said, "My Lord William, these are hard and bitter words, which have wounded my heart; nevertheless, since it is devout and reasonable, I will not oppose. If you had preferred the service of any other mortal king, I might have felt it an injustice; but as you wish to be a soldier of the King of angels, I consent. Only you must take with you some gift as a token and memorial of our friendship." With these words the King fell on his neck and wept bitter tears. William thereafter returned to Aquitaine; and visiting the monastery of St. Julian, at Brives, he deposited his arms as an offering to God. His buckler was long shown there as a priceless possession, and its gigantic form and strength long attracted all eyes. William then took the humble habit, and entered the monastery of Gelon, comporting himself as the lowliest of the brethren. He might be seen at harvest among the reapers, mounted on an ass, carrying a vessel of wine, from which he refreshed each reaper. Thus he who had so often given battle to the Saracens, and won renown among the warriors of his age, gave himself up entirely to humble occupations and works of charity.

A MONK GOING TO LIVE AT COURT (A.D. 801).

When Alcuin, a monk, who died in 804, was called to the Court of Charlemagne, he gave vent to his feelings thus: "O my cell, sweet and well-beloved home, adieu for ever! I shall see no more the woods that surround thee with their interlacing branches and flowery verdure, nor thy fields full of wholesome and aromatic herbs, nor thy streams of fish, nor thy orchards, nor thy gardens where the lily mingles with the rose. I shall hear no more those birds, who, like ourselves, sing matins and celebrate their Creator in their own fashion; nor those instructions of sweet and holy wisdom, which sound in the same breath as the praises of the Most High, from lips and hearts always serene. Dear cell! I shall weep and mourn for thee always. But thus it is: everything changes and passes away; night succeeds to day, winter to summer, storm to sunshine, weary age to ardent youth. And we--unhappy that we are!--we cling to this fugitive world. It is Thou, O Christ, that puttest all away, that we may love Thee only, and Thou canst satisfy every heart."

THE REASONS FOR SO MANY MONASTERIES (A.D. 1150).

Bishop Otho of Bamberg, the apostle of Pomerania, being asked in 1150 why he founded and built so many monasteries, replied, citing the parable of the Good Samaritan, thus: "The world is only a place of exile, and as long as we live in it we are at a distance from our Lord. Therefore we need inns and stables. Now, monasteries and cells are inns and stables. These are then of great utility to us poor wanderers; and if we fall among robbers and are stripped and wounded and left half dead, certainly we shall find by experience how much better it is to be near an inn than at a distance from one. For when sudden destruction comes upon us, how can we be carried to a stable if it be far off? So it is much better that there should be many such places than few, seeing how great is the danger, and how large is the number of persons exposed to it. And now, especially that men are so multiplied upon earth, it is not absurd that monasteries should be multiplied, since the abundant population admits of numbers embracing a chaste life. Finally, it is well to have these built, that in all things God might be honoured and man assisted; and how great is the honour to God and the utility to man which daily result from monasteries! The spiritual is even greater than the temporal utility; for there the blind see, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the dead are raised, and the poor have the Gospel preached to them."

LIFE IN A CONVENT.

A convent or monastery as a place of residence for a religious community was made up of various orders and degrees. There were cloister monks, lay and clerical; the professed brethren, also lay and clerical; the clerks; the novices; and the servants and artificers. There were recruits from every rank of society--knights and ladies, scions of noble houses, minstrels, and merchants. All were governed by the abbot, who was elected by the community, who lived like a prince, and who had a separate establishment within the precincts set apart for him. He administered the property and enforced discipline, being also confessor to the monks. He had his falconer and his forester, and his minstrels entertained company and travellers. He had officers under him, such as the prior, precentor, cellarer, sacrist, hospitaller, infirmarer, almoner, master of the novices, porter, kitchener, seneschal, etc., according to the size of the building; and these were usually elected by the convent and approved by the abbot. Under the monastery were abbeys, or smaller establishments, each governed by a prior, who had all the abbot's powers, except deposing and consecrating, and he also had a separate chamber. The nucleus of a monastery was the cloister court, a quadrangular space of greensward surrounded by the cloister buildings, and a covered ambulatory went round the four sides as a promenade for the monks. The church was the principal building, and built in the form of a cross, with a nave and aisles. The scriptorium was a large apartment, where much work was done in transcribing books and illuminating them. The abbot kept open house in the hospitium, and entertained travellers of every degree.

A DAY'S LIFE IN A MONASTERY.

The following is Mr. Travers Hill's account, given in his "English Monasticism," of the order of the day in the monastery at Glastonbury, and which went on much the same for ten centuries: At 2 a.m. the bell tolled for matins, when every monk arose, and, after performing his private devotions, hastened to the church and took his seat. When all were assembled, fifteen psalms were sung; then came the nocturn and more psalms. A short interval ensued, during which the chanter, choir, and those who needed it had permission to retire for a short time if they wished; then followed lauds, which were generally finished by 6 a.m., when the bell rang for prime. When this was finished, the monks continued reading till 7 a.m., when the bell was rung and they retired to put on their day-clothes. Afterwards the whole convent, having performed their ablutions and broken their fast, proceeded again to the church, and the bell was rung for tierce at 9 a.m. After tierce came the morning Mass, and as soon as that was over they marched in procession to the chapter-house for business and correction of faults. This ceremony over, the monks worked or read till sext (12 a.m.), which service being concluded, they dined. Then followed one hour's sleep in their clothes in the dormitory, unless any of them preferred reading. Nones commenced at 3 p.m., first vespers at 4 p.m., then work or reading till second vespers at 7 p.m.; afterwards reading till collation; then came the service of complin, confession of sins, evening prayers, and retirement to rest about 9 p.m.

THE ROUTINE OF ENGLISH MONKS IN 1080.

The formalism of monkery was well displayed in the code drawn up by Lanfranc, who was made Archbishop of Canterbury by William the Conqueror. By this code the monks were to be called from their beds before daybreak, and go in their night-clothes to the church to sing. Thence to the cloister and hear the boys read till the bell tolls for them to put on their shoes. They were to pass to the dormitory for their day-dress and to the lavatory to wash. They were then to comb themselves, and when the great bell sounded they were to enter the church to receive the holy water. On the signal of another bell, they were to pray, and of another bell to sing, and afterwards to proceed to the altar to say or hear Mass. They were again to dress themselves and to return to the choir, to sit there till the bell summoned them to the chapter-house. On another signal, they were to resort to the refectory. After a certain hour no one was to speak till the children left the monastery; then when the bell sounded again, their shoes were to be taken off, their hands to be washed, and they were to enter the church to repeat the Litany and to hear High Mass. At another signal they were to go in procession. When the bell rang again, they were to pray, and afterwards to revisit the refectory. Some were then to sit in the choir, and those who liked might read. At a fresh signal the nones were to be sung; similar tasks were to succeed again in allotted order, till they were dismissed to their beds.

THE OFFICIALS AND ARRANGEMENTS OF AN ABBEY.

The officers in abbeys are, first, the abbot, who is supreme, and to whom all the others owe obedience. Next is the prior or president, then the subprior and lower officers. The gatehouse was the place where guests are admitted. The refectory was the hall where the monks dine. The _locutorium_ or parlour where leave was given to them to converse, there being silence enforced in other parts. The oriel was a side-room where the indisposed monks were allowed to dine. In the abbey church the cloisters were the consecrated ground. The _navis ecclesiæ_ was the nave or body of the church. The presbyterium was the raised choir on which the monks chanted. The _vestiarium_ or vestry where the copes and clothes were deposited. The century or sanctuary was the place where debtors took refuge. The farm or grange was so called a _grana gerendo_--the overseer whereof was called the prior of the grange. The abbot was a baron in the English Parliament, and was summoned during and after the reign of Henry III.; and so were priors of quality. In 49 Henry III. no less than sixty-four abbots and thirty-six priors with the master of the Temple were all summoned. In Edward III. they were reduced to twenty-six. Gloucestershire was said to be fullest of monasteries, and Westmoreland the freest from them. Shaftesbury had the richest nunnery.

DIFFERENCE BETWEEN MONKS AND FRIARS.

Fuller, in his "Church History," says: "It is necessary to premise what was the distinction between monks and friars. For though some will say the matter is not much, if monks and friars were confounded together, yet the distinguishing of them conduceth much to the clearing of history. Some make monks the _genus_ and friars but the _species_, so that all friars were monks, but _e contra_ all monks were not friars; others, that monks were confined to their cloisters, whilst more liberty was allowed to friars to go about and preach in neighbouring parishes. I see it is very hard just to hit the joint, so as to cleave them asunder at an hair's breadth, authors being so divided in their opinions. But the most essential difference whereon we must confide is this--monks had nothing in propriety (exclusive property), but all in common; friars had nothing in propriety nor in common, but, being mendicants, begged all their substance from the charity of others. True it is they had cells or houses to dwell or rather hide themselves in, so the foxes have holes and the birds of the air have nests; but all this went for nothing, seeing they had no means belonging thereunto. Yea, it hath borne a tough debate betwixt them whether a friar may be said to be owner of the clothes he weareth; and it hath been for the most part overruled in the negative. Foresters laugh at the ignorance of that gentleman who made the difference between a stag and a hart that the one was a red, the other a fallow deer, being both of a kind, only different in age and some other circumstances. Monks and friars hate each other heartily."

BRAWLS BETWEEN FRIARS AND SECULAR PRIESTS.

In the time of Edward IV. a contest raged between the Begging Friars and secular priests. Fuller, in his "Church History," says that "it was beheld to be a most pestiferous doctrine that the friars so heightened the perfection of begging that, according to their principles, all the priesthood and prelacy in the land, yea by consequence the Pope himself, did fall short of the sanctity of their order. Yet hard it was for them to persuade his Holiness to quit Peter's patrimony and betake himself to poverty, although a friar (Thomas Holden by name) did not blush to preach at Paul's Cross that Christ Himself, as first founder of their society, was a beggar--a manifest untruth, and easily confuted out of Scripture. For vast the difference betwixt begging and taking what the bounty of others doth freely confer, as our Saviour did from such who ministered unto Him of their substance (Luke viii. 3). After zealous preachings and disputings, Pope Paul II. interposed, concluding that it was a damnable heresy to say that Christ publicly begged, whereon the mendicants let the controversy sink into silence never more to be revived."

ENMITY BETWEEN ORDERS OF MONKS.

The enmity between the Franciscans and Dominicans was notorious. A friar of each order came at the same time to the side of a brook, which it was necessary to ford, and the Dominican requested the Franciscan to carry him across, as he was barefooted, and must otherwise undress. The Franciscan took him on his shoulders and carried him to the middle; then suddenly stopped and asked if he had any money with him. "Only two reals," replied the Dominican. "Excuse me then, father," said the Franciscan; "you know my vow--I cannot carry money." And in he dropped him. It is stated in Surtees' "History of Durham" (vol. i., p. 42): "The monks well knew how impossible it was to preserve peace betwixt two bodies of ecclesiastics having property contiguous to each other, and therefore wisely provided in most of their grants that neither their feoffees nor tenants should lease or alienate to Jews, nor to any religious house save their own."

MONKS DISLIKED BY CLERGY.

The chronicler Matthew Paris says that in 1207 the preachers who were called Minors arose under the favour of Pope Innocent and filled the earth, dwelling in towns and cities in bodies of ten or seven, possessing nothing whatever, living on the Gospel, displaying a true and voluntary poverty in their clothes and food, walking barefoot, girded with knotted ropes, and showing a noble example of humility to all men. But they caused great alarm to many of the prelates because they began to weaken their authority--first of all by their preaching and secret confessions of penitents, afterwards by their open receptions.

A MONK WHO WANTED TO BE AN ANGEL.

It is related among the wise sayings of Antony the hermit and others, that a monk of Mount Sinai, finding his brethren working, said, "Why labour for the meat which perisheth? Mary chose the good part." On hearing this the abbot ordered the monk to be put in his cell, and when the dinner-bell rang the monk was not called, which made the monk ask the reason why. The abbot replied, "Thou art a spiritual man, and needest not food. We are carnal, and must eat because we work; but thou hast chosen the better part." The monk was then rather ashamed of his brave resolution. Another monk, John the dwarf, also wanted to be "without care, like the angels, doing nothing but praising God." So he threw away his cloak, left his brother the abbot, and went into the desert. But after seven days he came back and knocked at the door. "Who is there?" asked his brother. "John." "Nay, John is turned into an angel and is no more among men." So he left John outside all night; and in the morning gave John to understand that, if he was a man, he must work; but that if he was an angel, he had no need to live in a cell.

DEATH OF AN ABBESS AT ARLES (A.D. 632).

In 632 St. Rusticule, abbess of the convent of St. Cesarius at Arles, died, and her last illness is thus related: "It happened on a certain Friday that after singing vespers as usual with her nuns, finding herself fatigued, she exceeded her strength in making the usual reading. She knew that she was shortly to pass to the Lord. On the Saturday morning she felt cold and lost the use of her limbs. Lying down on a little bed, she was seized with fever; but she never ceased praising God with her eyes raised to heaven. She commended to Him her daughters, whom she was about to leave orphans, and with a firm mind she comforted those who wept around her. She found herself still worse on Sunday; and as it was her custom that her bed should only be made once a year, the servants of God begged permission to give her a softer bed, but she would not consent. On Monday, which was the day of St. Laurence, she lost all strength, and her breathing became difficult. At this sight the sad virgins of Christ poured forth tears and sighs. It being the third hour of the day, as the congregation in its affliction repeated the Psalms in silence, the holy mother in displeasure asked, 'Why do I not hear the chanting of psalmody?' The nuns replied that they could not sing through grief. 'Do sing still louder,' she replied, 'in order that I may receive the benefit of it, for it is very sweet for me to hear it.' The next day her body had lost the power of motion, but her eyes preserved their lustre and shone like stars. Looking on all sides, and not being able to speak, she made signs with her hand that they should cease weeping and be comforted. When one of the sisters felt her feet, she said it was not yet time; but shortly after, at the sixth hour of the day, with a serene countenance and eyes that seemed to smile, this glorious and blessed soul passed to heaven and joined the innumerable choir of saints."

HOW CÆDMON, A COWHERD, BECAME THE MONK POET (A.D. 680).

When St. Hilda was abbess of Whitby, about 660, the rustics used to have their beer-parties, at which they sang or recited warlike songs, turn about, to the accompaniment of the harp. One of the rustics, when the harp was passed round to him in his turn, confessed he could not sing, and left the company covered with shame and confusion. That night he lay in his cattle-shed and had a dream. Some one approached him and said, "Cædmon, sing me something." He said he could not, and that was the reason of his leaving the party; but the visitor said he knew better, and insisted that Cædmon should sing, and sing then and there of the Creation. Whereupon in his sleep he sang some verses. On waking he remembered the verses, and told the bailiff what had happened. All who heard the verses believed he was inspired, and suggested to him fresh subjects, and he immediately turned them into sacred songs equally impressive. The abbess hearing of this, told Cædmon to become a monk and learn sacred history, which he did. He soon became famous for his extemporaneous versifications of all kinds of sacred subjects, such as the Resurrection, the future judgment, the Passion, and the heavenly kingdom. He is now known as the father of English poetry, and the metrical paraphrase now extant and known as "Cædmon" is a singularly graphic description of sacred scenes. He was the wonder of his time for this gift of song, and lived long among the monks of Whitby. He was cheery in his talk; and when he drew near his end, he asked them to bring the Housel, which he took into his hands, and solemnly said he had friendly disposition towards all God's servants. The monks wondered what he meant. He asked them how long it would be before the brethren would be awakened for nocturnal lauds. On being answered he said, "Good; let us wait for that hour." They waited; he then signed himself with the cross, lay back on his pillow, and died amid the music of the sacred hymns he loved so well.

A MONK SLEEPING TOO LONG (A.D. 744).

Alcuin (who died 804), when a boy of eleven and devoted to the church, was one night sent by the schoolmaster of the monastery at the request of a lay brother who was left alone in charge of the building to go up and sleep there that night as some company to the brother. They retired to rest; and when it was about cock-crowing, they were awoke by the signal for service. The rustic monk only turned in his bed, and went to sleep again. Not so Alcuin, who soon perceived that the room was full of demons. They surrounded the bed of the sleeping monk, and cried, "You sleep well, brother!" He at once awoke, and they called out, "Why do you alone lie snoring here, while all your brethren are watching in the church?" And they belaboured him heavily as a warning. Meanwhile Alcuin lay trembling under the impression that his turn would come next, and ejaculated to himself that if he were only delivered he would never again love Virgil more than the melody of Psalms. The demons, after punishing the monk, then looked about, and found the boy completely covered up in his bedclothes, panting and almost senseless. On seeing himself discovered, he burst into tears and screamed, whereupon his avengers consulted together, and after a little resolved that they would not beat him, but would turn up the clothes at the foot of the bed and cut his corns, by way of making him remember his promise. The clothes were no sooner touched than Alcuin jumped up, crossed himself, and sang the 12th Psalm with all his might; the demons thereupon vanished, and he and his companion set off to church for safety.

AN ABBOT LECTURING HIS MONKS AGAINST IDLENESS (A.D. 1040).

Theodoric, abbot of St. Evroult, in Normandy, about 1040 used to lecture his monks and warn them against idleness, and told them this story: "There was a monk in a certain monastery who was guilty of many transgressions against its rules; but he was a transcriber; and being devoted to that work, he of his own accord wrote out an enormous volume of the Divine law. After his death his soul was brought before the tribunal of the just Judge for judgment. And when the evil spirits sharply accused him, and brought forward his innumerable crimes, the holy angels on the other hand showed the book which that monk had written in the house of God, and counted up the letters of that enormous volume as a set-off against the like number of sins. At length the letters had a majority of only one, against which, however, the demons in vain attempted to object any sin. The clemency of the Judge therefore spared the monk, commanded his soul to return to his body, and mercifully granted him space for reformation of his life. Frequently think of this, dear brethren; cleanse your hearts from vain and noxious desires; constantly offer the sacrifice of the works of your hands to the Lord God. Shun idleness with all your power. Frequently consider that only one devil tempts a monk who is employed in any good occupation, while a thousand devils attack him who is idle. Pray, read, chant, write, and employ yourselves, and wisely arm yourselves against the temptations of evil spirits."

THE WAR OF THE TWO ABBOTS (A.D. 1077).

At the critical epoch when the Emperor and Pope were at war, two abbots living twenty miles apart took opposite sides. The monastery of St. Gall, on Lake Constance, founded about 650, was ruled about 1077 by Ulric of Eppinstein as abbot, who took the side of the Emperor; while Eckard, abbot of Reichnau, took the side of the Pope. Ulric was a man of polished manners, versed in the ways of the world, as fit to lead an army as to wield the crosier, of great wealth, and with a host of retainers. He was a little king, at the head of the richest abbey in Europe. The monastery was, however, exposed, being merely the centre of a large village; while Reichnau was on an island, with strong fortifications and safe from attack. For fifteen years the two monasteries were at feud, each seeking occasion to take advantage and overcome its opponent, and engaged in constant skirmishes. Each of the abbots was proud, ambitious, and eager to crush his enemy. The abbot of Reichnau one day tried to draw Ulric, and advanced almost to the gates, but failed to bring on an engagement. After long fencing, a traitor was found in the abbey of Reichnau. As the abbot of Reichnau was making a journey to obtain a personal interview with the Pope, the Emperor's troops captured him, and kept him in prison for two years, and a report was circulated of his death. The Emperor then conferred the vacant abbey on Ulric, as a recompense for his eminent services. A friendly duke then seized the opportunity of getting charge of St. Gall and appropriating its revenues. The abbot of Reichnau, on obtaining his freedom from prison, resumed the warfare; but after many intricate turns of affairs a peace was at last concluded in 1094, and put an end to the long series of skirmishes, battles, conflagrations, sieges, and plunderings between these two belligerents.

MONKS ATTACHED TO THE GREGORIAN CHANT (A.D. 1083).

In 1083 Roger de Hoveden says that a disgraceful quarrel arose between the monks and the Abbot Turstin of Glastonbury, who had been most unworthily appointed to his office. In his folly he treated the Gregorian chant with contempt, and wanted to force the monks to learn instead the chant of one William of Feschamp. The monks were averse to the change; but one day Turstin rushed unexpectedly into the chapter-house with a body of soldiers. The monks fled into the church and to the altar, and the soldiers pursued them, piercing the crosses, images, and shrines of the saints with darts and arrows, and even speared a monk while embracing the altar. The monks stoutly defended themselves with the benches and candlesticks; and though grievously wounded, at last drove the soldiers beyond the choir. The result was that two monks were killed and fourteen wounded, and some of the soldiers also were wounded. On investigation the King removed the abbot, and some of the monks also were transferred to other abbeys. The abbot afterwards wandered about, and died in misery, as became a homicide.

THE RETRIBUTION OF THOSE WHO PILLAGE MONKS (A.D. 1136).

In 1136 we are told by Orderic, a contemporary, that a famous archer, Robert Boet, with his banditti, rushed like wolves on their prey and ravaged the lands of his fellow-monks of St. Evroult. The people of the neighbouring bourg were so incensed that they caught and hanged six of the gang. But the other robbers came soon after, in great fury, to take revenge, and set fire to the village, burning eighty-four houses to ashes. The monks, in a paroxysm of terror, tolled the bells and chanted psalms and litanies in the church, fearing that instant ruin threatened the monastery. Some of the monks went forth with tears to entreat the assailants to desist, and lawful satisfaction would be given; but the bandits, maddened with fury and blind with rage, insulted the envoys and dragged them from their palfreys, and fired the houses near the church. It was only through God's mercy that the wind changed at the right moment and drove the flames in another direction. The monks' lodgings, with the books and ecclesiastical ornaments, were saved. It was noticed that after sacking the village of St. Evroult no enterprise of those robbers against their enemies prospered. On the contrary, by God's judgment, they suffered frequent losses, some of their gang being slain and others taken prisoners. It was but just that those who had attacked unarmed and inoffensive people, whom no fear of God induced them to spare, should meet with the derision of stronger and well-trained troops, by whose superiority they were soon brought low.

URGING THE MONKS TO LIVE FRUGALLY.