Chapter XIII: Part 13

Never was monk so kicked and cuffed about, persecuted and tormented by the Devil, as poor Romualdus. At first the Devil knocked such a dust at the door of his cell whenever he went to bed, that he could not get a wink of sleep for the noise. Being at length so much exhausted for want of a nap, he began, notwithstanding the horrid noise, to snooze a little, when the Devil turned himself into some heavy body and laid so heavy upon his thighs and legs, that he severely bruised them, and broke some of the bones. And though monk Romualdus often made his tormentor slink out of his cell, ashamed of his evil doings, he would, nevertheless, not cease to molest him. So frequently, in fact, was he visited by Armadeus, and so numerous were their conflicts, that a brother monk could not approach the cell of Romualdus without being mistaken for the Devil by him: and believing this to be the case, he would cry out as loud as his lungs would permit—“_Accursed, what would’st thou have? Bold dog, I forbid thee to come here; thou poisonous serpent, that was thrown down from Heaven, I do forbid thee!_” These were the weapons with which this miraculously converted monk had always ready to meet the Devil whenever he made his appearance. One evening, however, as he was muttering over his _Completus_, a whole squadron of Devils rushed in upon him, knocked him down, kicked him for falling, and inflicted several very severe wounds upon his precious body; and although he was weary and faint with loss of blood, he continued saying all the while his _Completus_ till he completed, when by a short prayer he dispersed the whole battalion.

After this great and glorious victory, the Devil would never grapple with him again; but would, sometimes, in the shape of a Raven, a Bustard, an Ethiopian, or some savage beast, stand at a distance, loll out his tongue, and make wry faces at him. And although Romualdus was a bit of a duellist, as we have already shewn, would challenge and dare the Devil to come up to the mark, his devilship was too good a judge to venture near him; and finding at length that he was no match for Romualdus, he stirred up divers monks to persecute him, which, in fact, they did with great fury, but with as ill success as he who prompted them.

The fourth order of monks is that of the _Valle Umbrosa_, instituted by one Gilbert, from whom his fraternity assumed the name of Gilbertines. The reader will at once know enough of this Mr. Gilbert when we inform him, at once, that he was the pupil of Romualdus, and that he was called to be a monk by a crucifix, which, when he was in the act of worshipping it, nodded its head and smiled at him.

The fifth order is the Carthusian, instituted towards the end of the eleventh century; it is governed by institutions of its own making, and is the strictest order in the Roman church. This monastery was generally the last refuge of the discontented, rather than the retreat of unfeigned piety and devotion, who threw themselves into this solitary state of life, to which they fettered themselves, by indissoluble vows, for the remainder of their days. They were allowed enough of good bread and wine, and although they abstained from flesh, and every thing that had touched it, they had a plentiful supply of good fish and fruit.

This inhuman order was instituted by one Bruno, a German, but who was a canon of the church of Rheims; of whom the reader will learn enough, when we inform him that he was driven to this determination by a Parisian doctor, with whom he had been intimately acquainted, and of whose piety as well as learning, he entertained a very high opinion, and who for three days following after his death, when he was on the point of being committed to the grave, sate up, and loudly declared, _that by the just judgment of God_ he was damned; which, as soon as he had pronounced, he lay down again.[81]

There is another story that the bishop of Grenoble, the night before _Bruno_ and his six companions came to him, in quest of a solitary place to live in, had a vision, in which he saw Christ come down from Heaven, and in a desert place of his diocese, called the Chartreuse, built a palace. He likewise beheld seven stars of the colour of gold, which having joined themselves together, they made a crown, which by degrees raised itself from the earth, and ascended up into heaven. The bishop at first sight knew Bruno and his companions to be the seven stars he had seen; and in consequence of this recognition, he bestowed upon them all the lands called the Chartreuse. In order, also, that Bruno should be as little remiss in his duty and gratitude, he erected the monastery as conformable to the vision of the bishop as means and materials would allow.

The sixth order of monks in the Roman church is the Cistertian, said to have been instituted by Abbot Robert; but whether it was so or otherwise, Bernard has always been named as the founder.

Bernard was born in France in the 12th century; and to do him justice, he seems to have had the best natural parts, and the most learning of any of the monastic founders; and had it not been for the tragical fraud he adopted to promote a very unfortunate _cruzado_, and the other frauds he used in favour of the Pope, to whom he adhered during the time of a schism, his sincerity and piety might have been judged equal to his other talents.

His mother, during the time she was pregnant with him, dreamed she had a white dog in her womb, which in all probability was the reason the Cistertian monks dressed in white, in the same manner as Benedict’s raven might have suggested the colour to the vestments of the Benedictines.

During his infancy Bernard was much troubled with head-ach; and an old woman having been sent for to cure him, he would not suffer her to come near him, from the belief that she made use of charms. One Christmas-day, when he was at church, during his boyhood, he prayed that the very hour in which Christ was born might be revealed to him; and when that hour came, he saw a new-born infant. What a pity it is that Bernard, who has written so much, did not record that hour, the day, the month, and the year, about which chronologers are still so much divided.

During a hard frosty night, Bernard was seized with a violent paroxysm of satyriasis, or strong carnal inclination: he precipitated himself into a pond of water, and remained there until he was almost frozen to death.

On another occasion, during the time he was preaching to a very numerous congregation, who were listening to him, a temptation of vain glory invaded him, and he heard a voice within him saying, _see, how all the people do attend unto your words_. He was just going to leave off preaching to mortify this temptation, but perceiving it was the Devil who had addressed him, for the purpose of interrupting his sermon, he turned about his head to the tempter, and thus coolly spoke to him—_As I did not begin this sermon for thee, so neither will I end it for thee_, and so went on preaching as before. He was always very sickly, and not only rejoiced that he was so himself, but he judged it fit that all monks ought to be so: for which reason he built _Claraval_, and all his other monasteries, in low damp places.

Bernard laboured hard to bring all his monks to an uninterrupted attention to their devotions; and having one day, as he was riding, been told by a peasant, “_that he found that to be an easy thing_;” he promised him the mule he rode upon, if he would but say the Lord’s prayer without any distraction of thought. The peasant began the prayer, but before he got half through it, he confessed that “it came into his mind, whether with the mule he was to have the saddle and bridle also.”

Being at Pavia, a woman possessed of a devil was brought before him; but before Bernard had time to utter a word to the woman, the devil cried out, “do you think that such an onion and leek carrier as this, is able to throw me out of possession?” Upon which Bernard ordered the woman to be carried to St. Sirus’ church, in which, though Sirus had previously dispossessed all that had ever come before him, he would not do it at this time, that Bernard might have the honour of it himself. The devil, however, set them both at defiance, and in a scoffing manner told them, that neither little _Siry_ nor little _Barny_ should turn him out. But the devil was mistaken for once in his life; little _Barny_, as he styled him, soon served an ejectment upon him. To another woman in the same city, on whom the devil had lain in a very dishonest manner, he gave a stick, with which she so belaboured him, that he never troubled her any more.

After Bernard had persuaded the kings of England and France to submit to the Pope; but not being able to prevail upon the Duke of Aquitaine, he went one day to him with the sacrament in his hand, when the Duke threw himself down at his feet; on which Bernard gave him a lusty kick, and bade him rise and acknowledge the true Pope. The Duke rose immediately, and being thus kicked into it, made his submission, and acknowledged the _Vicegerent_ of Heaven.

The seventh order of monks is the Cælestine, instituted by Petrus Moronus, who having afterwards become Pope, took the name of Cælestine. This poor monk was persuaded by Cardinal Cagestan, who took the name of Boniface the 8th, to abdicate the Roman chair, that he might spend his whole time in devotion. But his successor, Boniface, fearing that were he at liberty in his monastery, it might come into his head to return to the pontifical chair, kept him a close prisoner as long as he lived.

The eighth order of monks is the Williamite, called also the order of _Montes Virginis_, and of _Montis Oliveti_, instituted by one William, a noble Italian, which at one time possessed 47 monasteries. There were _Hermits_ who were likewise called Williamites, from William, Duke of Aquitaine, but they were amalgamated with the mendicant order of the monks of St. Austin.

The ninth order was the Sylvestern. There was also another instituted by the nobles of Milan, called the _Humiliate_, who having quarrelled with Cardinal Borromeus, Archbishop of Milan, dissolved the order and seized all their revenues, which were immense.

All the preceding orders, besides the Carthusians, were all under the Benedictine rule, whose monks were both the oldest and richest pertaining to the Roman church, in which the monastic rules are four in number—namely, the rule of St. Bazil, St. Austin, and St. Benedict.

The order of monks under St. Austin’s rule, as it was called, were the canons regular, the _Premonstratenses_; the _Dominicans_; the _Hieronomites_, in various shapes; the _Servites_; the _Jesuits_; the _Crucigeri_; the _Boni Jesu_; the _Trinitarians_; the _Eremites of St. Augustin_; the _Theatines_; the _Pautestæ_; the _military orders of St. John of Jerusalem_, of _St. James of Compostella_, of the _Teutonick order_, of _St. Lazarus_, and of _St. Mauritius_.

The Dominican order, of which only we shall here allude, is the third under the rule of St. Austin, was instituted about the beginning of the 13th century, and is both the first mendicant order and the first order that had a solemn confirmation from the Pope. They are very numerous, and have still many convents in Spain and Portugal.

Dominick, the founder of this order, was born in Spain, in 1170. His mother, when she was with child with him, dreamed that she was delivered of a hog, with a flaming torch in his mouth, an emblem appropriate enough for an inquisitor; and when he was baptized, his god mother, although it was visible to no one else, saw a star that illuminated all the world; and as he lay in his cradle, a swarm of bees pitched upon his lips. And, although from the day of his baptism to the day of his death, he is said never to have committed one mortal sin, he would, nevertheless, before he was seven years old, rise out of his costly bed, for his parents were said to have been very rich, and lie upon the ground. When he was a boy he would never play or use any pastimes; and when he arrived at man’s estate, he gave all that had been left him by his father, with the exception of his books, among the poor; and having nothing else left to give, he gave them his books also.

Seeing a woman one day weeping bitterly for the loss of her brother, who had been taken captive by the Moors, he begged her to take him, and to sell him to those infidels, and with the money he should fetch, redeem her brother; but, to his extreme mortification, the woman refused to comply with his desire.

One day, when Dominick was in his study, the devil so pestered him in the shape of a flea, leaping and frisking about on the leaves of his book, that he found it impossible to continue his reading: irritated at length by such unhandsome treatment, he fixed him on the very spot where he finished reading, and in this shape made use of him to find the place again. Having at last, however, released old _nick_ from this demonological dilemma, he appeared to him again in his study in the guise of a monkey, and grinned so “horribly a ghastly grin,” and skipped about so, that he was more annoyed now than before. To put a stop to these monkey tricks, Dominick forthwith commanded him, the said monkey, to take the candlestick and hold it for him; this the monkey did, and Dominick made him continue holding it, until it was burnt down to the bottom of the wick, and although the monkey made a horrid noise at burning his fingers, he was forced to hold it until it was burnt out, which it did until it had burnt the devil’s monkey fingers to the bone.

Having gone into France with the bishop of Osma, of whose church Dominick was a canon, though by preaching and working miracles he converted the _Albigenses_ about Toulouse by thousands in a day, he, nevertheless, so roused Simon de Montford, who was general of the Pope’s _cruzado_ against those christians, by which Montfort, and his _cruzado_, to which Dominick was the chief chaplain, that many thousands of those poor christians were butchered.

That part of France must necessarily, at that time, have been very populous, otherwise there could not have been so many of those christians left for Montfort to murder, after Dominick had made such extensive conversions among them, for assuredly Montfort would not lay violent hands on any of his proselytes. The greatest conversion ever made by Dominick was after he had the rosary given him by the blessed virgin, whose virtues Dominick successfully eulogized with all the eloquence he was master of. There was one, however, desperate enough to ridicule both the rosary and the mountebank oratory upon its virtues; but he was soon punished for his audacity, by a great number of devils getting into him; but Dominick relenting at the sufferings of the demoniac, although he did not deserve such commiseration at his hands, called the devils to an account for the uproarious noise they made; when the following colloquy passed between them.

DOMINICK.—How came you to enter this man, and how many are you in number?

DEVILS.—(_After tremendous howlings._) We came into him for having spoken disrespectfully of the rosary; and for his having laughed and made “_merry game_” of your sermons. We are 15,000 in number, and have been forced much against our inclination to enter one who might have done us infinite services.

DOM.—Why did so many as 15,000 of you enter him?

DEV.—Because there are 15 decads in the rosary which he derided.

DOM.—Why did you suffer this man to be brought to me?

DEV.—(_All together roaring out._) It was done to our great confusion: we could not prevent it.

DOM.—Is not all true I have said of the virtues of the rosary?

DEV.—(_After the most hideous bellowing_.) Cursed be the hour in which we entered into this _statue_? Woe be unto us for ever! Why did we not suffocate him before he was brought hither? But it is now too late and we cannot do it, for thou holdest us in burning flames and chains of fire, so that we are forced to declare the truth to thee, to our great prejudice. O yes! O yes! Know all christian men and women, that this cruel Dominick, this implacable enemy of ours, has never said one word concerning the virtues of the rosary that is not most true; and know ye further, that if you do not believe him, great calamities will befall you.

DOM.—Who was the man in the world the devil hated the most?

DEV. (_All of them._) Thou art the very man, who, by thy prayers, and by thy severe ways of penance, and by thy sermons, hast shown the way to Paradise to every one, and hast snatched our prey. But know thou, that our dark congregation and infernal troop are so enraged against thee, that a brigade of the strongest and most mischievous spirits have a commission to fall upon thee and them.

DOM. (_turning to the people_.) God forbid, O Christians! that you should believe all that is said by the devils, who are liars, and inventors of lies. Not but that the Almighty is able to communicate so much strength to the vilest and most miserable sinner, as will overcome all infernal hosts, as you see I do at this time, who am the greatest of sinners.

DEV.—Cursed be so great humility as this, which tears and torments us so much.

DOM. (_Throwing his stole, for he had not his scapulary yet, which has much more virtue, about the neck of the Demoniac._) Of which state of men among Christians are there the most damned?

Here an extraordinary circumstance took place, for no sooner had Dominick’s stole touched the neck of the demoniac than a great quantity of thick gory blood burst out at his nose, and a poisonous clay from his ears. At this sight, Dominick commanded the rebellious devils to desist from tormenting the poor sinner.

DEV. We will with all our heart, if ye will suffer us to depart.

DOM. Ye shall not stir until ye have answered the question put you.

DEV. In hell there are a great many bishops and princes, but not many country people, who, though not perfect, are not very great sinners. There are also a great many merchants, and townspeople, such as pawnbrokers, fraudulent bakers, grocers, Jews, apothecaries, gamblers, rakes, &c. who were sent there for covetousness, cheating, voluptuousness, &c.

DOM. Are there any priests or monks in Hell?

DEV. There are a great number of priests, but no monks, with the exception of such as had transgressed the rule of their order.

DOM. How are you off for Franciscans?

DEV. Alas! alas! we have not one yet, but we expect a great number of them after their devotion is a little cooled.

DOM. What saint in heaven does the devil fear most?

Instead of returning any answer to this question, the devils begged Dominick by all that was sacred to be satisfied with the torments he had already inflicted upon them, and with those to which they were condemned in hell, begging he would not insist upon a true answer to that question before so great a congregation, to the ruin of their kingdom; telling him, that if he would ask the angels they would tell him who it was. This, however, would not satisfy Dominick, who, whatever virtues he might have, had little mercy in his composition, especially, it would appear, towards devils. He persisted upon their telling; and, perceiving how reluctant the demons were to comply with his wishes, he threw himself upon the ground, and went to work, hammer and tongs, with his rosary; upon which sulphureous flames of fire burst forth from his nose, mouth, eyes and ears; after this above an hundred angels, clad in golden armour, appeared with the blessed virgin in the midst of them, holding a golden rod in her hand, with which she gave the demoniac a switch on the back, commanding, at the same time, the devils to return true answers to Dominick’s questions; at this they all roared out lustily, _O our enemy! O our damner! O our confusion! Why didst thou come down from heaven to torment us here? Why art thou so powerful an intercessor for sinners? O thou most certain and secure way to heaven; but since thou commandest it, we must tell the truth, though it will confound us, and bring woe and misery on our princes of darkness for ever. Hear, O Christians_, continued the devils, this mother of Christ is too powerful in preserving all her servants from hell; it is she that, as a sun, dissipates all our darkness, _and enervates and brings to nought all our machinations. We are forced to confess that nobody is damned who perseveres in her holy worship, and is devoted to her. One sigh from her has more power than the prayers of all the saints; and we fear her more than all the citizens of Paradise; and you must all know, that vast numbers of Christians are, contrary to right, saved by calling upon her at the time of their death; and that we should long ago have destroyed the church, if it had not been for this little Mary; and being now forced to it, we must own, that none who persevere in the exercise of the rosary, can undergo the eternal torments of hell, for she obtains contrition for all her devout servants._

Here the _confab_ ended between 15,000 cowardly devils, and Dominick, who exhorted the congregation to join with him in reciting the rosary: and behold a great miracle: at every angelical salutation, a multitude of devils rushed out of the demoniac in the shape of burning coals, and the blessed virgin having given the congregation her benediction, disappeared, leaving Dominick in quest of fresh enterprises against the devil and his horde.

Dominick was a proud designing man, and of a very ferocious disposition. The stories related of the St. Franciscan order, are equally absurd and ridiculous.

Similar stories are too numerous: we shall therefore close this subject with

_The Hermit of the Pillar._
(_St. Simeon Stylites, St. Telesephorus, St. Syncletia._)

We are informed by Alban Butler, that St. Simeon Stylites, the ycleped hermit of the pillar, astonished the whole Roman Empire by his mortifications. In the monastery of Heliodorus, a man 65 years of age, who had spent 62 years so abstracted from the world that he was ignorant of the most obvious things in it; the monks ate but once a day; Simeon joined the communities, and ate but once a week. Heliodorus required Simeon to be more private in his mortifications: “with this view,” says Butler, “judging the rough rope of the well, made of twisted palm tree leaves, a proper instrument of penance; Simeon tied it close about his naked body, where it remained unknown both to the community and his superior, till such time as it having ate into his flesh, what he had privately done was discovered by the effluvia proceeding from the wound.” Butler says, that it took three days to disengage the saint’s clothes, and that “the incisions of the physician, to cut the cord out of his body, were attended with such anguish and pain, that he lay for some time as dead.” After this he determined to pass the whole forty days of Lent in total abstinence, and retired to a hermitage for that purpose. Bassus, an abbot, left with him ten loaves and water, and coming to visit him at the end of the forty days, found both loaves and water untouched, and the saint stretched on the ground without signs of life. Bassus dipped a sponge in water, moistened his lips, gave him the eucharist, and Simeon by degrees swallowed a few lettuce leaves and other herbs. He passed twenty-six Lents in the same manner. In the first part of a Lent he prayed standing: growing weaker, he prayed sitting; and towards the end, being almost exhausted, he prayed lying on the ground. At the end of three years he left his hermitage for the top of a mountain, made an inclosure of loose stones, without a roof, and having resolved to live exposed to the inclemencies of the weather, he fixed his resolution by fastening his right leg to a rock with a great iron chain. Multitudes thronged to the mountain to receive his benediction, and many of the sick recovered their health. But as some were not satisfied unless they touched him in his enclosure, and Simeon desired retirement from the daily concourse, he projected a new and unprecedented manner of life. He erected a pillar six cubits high, (each cubit being eighteen inches,) and dwelt on it four years; on a second of twelve cubits high, he lived three years; on a third of twenty-two cubits high, ten years; and on a fourth, of forty cubits, or sixty feet high, which the people built for him, he spent the last twenty years of his life. This occasioned him to be called _Stylites_, from the Greek word _stylos_, a pillar. This pillar did not exceed three feet in diameter at the top, so that he could not lie extended on it; he had no seat with him; he only stooped or leaned to take a little rest, and bowed his body in prayer so often, that a certain person who counted these positions, found that he made one thousand two hundred and forty-four reverences in one day, which if he began at four o’clock in the morning, and finished at eight o’clock at night, gives a bow to every three quarters of a minute; besides which, he exhorted the people twice a day. His garments were the skins of beasts; he wore an iron collar round his neck, and had a horrible ulcer in his foot. During his forty days’ abstinence throughout Lent, he tied himself to a pole. He treated himself as the outcast of the world and the worst of sinners, worked miracles, delivered prophecies, had the sacrament delivered to him on the pillar, and died bowing upon it, in the sixty-ninth of his age, after having lived upon pillars for six and thirty years. His corpse was carried to Antioch attended by the bishops and the whole country, and worked miracles on its way. So far this account is from Alban Butler.

Without mentioning circumstances and miracles in the Golden Legend, which are too numerous, and some not fit to be related; it may be observed, that it is there affirmed of him, that after his residence on the pillars, one of his thighs rotted a whole year, during which time he stood on one leg only. Near Simeon’s pillar was the dwelling of a dragon, so very venemous that nothing grew near his cave. This dragon met with an accident; he had a stake in his eye, and coming all blind to the saint’s pillar, and placing his eye upon it for three days, without doing harm to any one, Simeon ordered earth and water to be placed on the dragon’s eye, which being done, out came the stake, a cubit in length; when the people saw this miracle, they glorified God, and ran away for fear of the dragon, who arose and adored for two hours, and returned to his cave. A woman swallowed a little serpent, which tormented her for many years, till she came to Simeon, who causing earth and water to be laid on her mouth, the little serpent came out four feet and a half long. It is affirmed by the Golden Legend, that when Simeon died, Anthony smelt a precious odour proceeding from his body; that the birds cried so much, that both men and beasts cried; that an angel came down in a cloud; that the Patriarch of Antioch, taking Simeon’s beard to put among his relics, his hand withered, and remained so, till multitudes of prayers were said for him, and it was healed; and that more miracles were worked at and after Simeon’s sepulture, than he had wrought all his life.

HOLY RELIQUE-MANIA.

On the first introduction of the relics of saints, the mania became universal; they were bought and sold, and, like other collectors, made no scruple to steal them. It is not a little amusing to remark the singular ardour and grasping avidity of some to enrich themselves with religious morsels; their little discernment, the curious impositions and resources of the vender to impose on the good faith and sincerity of the purchaser. It was not uncommon for the prelate of the place to ordain a fast, in order to implore God that they might not be cheated with the relics of saints, which he sometimes purchased for the holy benefit of the village or town. Guibert de Nogen wrote a treatise on the relics of saints: acknowledging that there were many false ones, as well as false legends, he reprobates the inventors of those lying miracles. It was on the occasion of one of our Saviour’s teeth, that De Nogen took up his pen on this subject, by which the monks of St. Medard de Soissons pretended to work miracles; a pretension which he asserted to be as chimerical as that of several persons who believed they possessed the navel, and other parts less comely, of the body of Christ.

There is a history of the translation of Saint Lewin, a virgin and a martyr, by a monk of Bergavinck; her relics were brought from England to Bergs. The facts were collected from her brethren with religious care, especially from the conductor of these relics from England. After the history of the translation, and a panegyric on the saint, he relates the miracles performed in Flanders since the arrival of her relics. The prevailing passion of the times to possess fragments of saints is well marked, when the author particularises, with a certain complacency, all the knavish modes they resorted to, to carry off those in question. None then objected to this sort of robbery, because the gratification of the ruling passion had made it worth while to supply the market.

There is a history, by a monk of Cluny, of the translation of the body of St. Indalece, one of the earliest Spanish bishops; written by order of the Abbot of St. Juan de la Penna; wherein the author protests to advance nothing but facts; having himself seen, or learnt from other witnesses, all he relates. It was not difficult for him to gain his information, since it was to the monastery of St. Juan de la Penna that the holy relics were transported, and those who brought them were two monks of that house. His minute detail of circumstances, he has authenticated by giving the names of persons and places; and the account was written for the great festival immediately instituted in honour of this translation. He informs us of the miraculous manner by which they were so fortunate as to discover the body of this bishop, and the different plans that were concerted to carry it off; with the itinerary of the two monks who accompanied the holy remains; during which they were not a little cheered in their long and hazardous journey by visions and miracles.

Another has written a history of what he terms the translation of the relics of St. Majean to the monastery of Villemagne. _Translation_ is, in fact, only a softened expression for the robbery committed on the relics of the saints, by two monks who carried them off secretly, to enrich their monastery; and they did not stick at any artifice, or lie, to achieve their undertaking. They imagined every thing was permitted to get possession of these fragments of mortality, which now had become such an important branch of commerce. They even regarded their possessors with a hostile eye. Such was the religious opinion from the ninth to the twelfth century. Our Canute commissioned his agent at Rome to purchase St. Augustine’s arm for one hundred talents of silver and one of gold! a much greater sum, observes Granger, than the finest statue of antiquity would then have sold for. Another monk describes a strange act of devotion, attested by several contemporary writers. When the saints did not readily comply with the prayers of their votaries, they flogged their relics with rods, in a spirit of impatience, which they conceived necessary to enforce obedience. To raise our admiration, Theofroy, abbot of Epternac, relates the daily miracles performed by the relics of saints—their ashes, their clothes, or other mortal spoils, and even by the instruments of their martyrdom. He inveighs against that luxury of ornaments which was indulged in under a religious pretext. “It is not to be supposed that the saints are desirous of such a profusion of gold and silver. They wish not that we should raise to them magnificent churches, to exhibit that ingenious order of pillars, which shine with gold; nor those rich ceilings, nor those altars sparkling with jewels. They desire not the purple parchment for their writings, the liquid gold to decorate the letters, nor the precious stones to embellish their covers, while you have such little care for the ministers.” The pious writer has not forgotten _himself_, in his partnership-account with the _saints_.

Bayle observes, the Roman church not being able to deny that there have been false relics which have wrought miracles, they reply that the good intentions of those believers who have recourse to them, obtained from God the reward for their good faith! In the same spirit, when it was shown that three bodies of the same saint are said to exist in several places, and that therefore they could not all be authentic, it was answered, that they were all genuine! for God had multiplied and miraculously reproduced them, for the comfort of the faithful! A curious specimen of the intolerance of good sense.

Prince Radzivil was so much affected by the Reformation being spread in Lithuania, that he went in person to pay the Pope all personal honours. On this occasion his holiness presented him with a precious box of relics. On his return home, some monks entreated the prince’s permission to try the effects of them on a demoniac, who hitherto had resisted every exorcism. They were brought into the church with solemn pomp, accompanied by an innumerable crowd, and deposited on the altar. After the usual conjurations, which were unsuccessful, the relics were applied. The demoniac instantly recovered. The people called out _a miracle!_ and the Prince raising his hands and eyes to heaven, felt his faith confirmed. During this transport of pious joy, he observed that a young gentleman, who was keeper of his treasure of relics, smiled, and by his motions ridiculed the miracle. The Prince, indignantly, took the young keeper of the relics to task; who, on promise of pardon, gave the following _secret intelligence_ concerning them. In travelling from Rome he had lost the box of relics; and not daring to mention it, he had procured a similar one, which he had filled with the small bones of dogs and cats, and other trifles similar to those that were lost. He hoped he might be forgiven for smiling, when he found that such a collection of rubbish was eulogized with such pomp, and had even the virtue of expelling demons. It was by the assistance of this box that the Prince discovered the gross impositions of the monks and demoniacs, and Radzivil afterwards became a zealous Lutheran.

Frederick the Elector, surnamed _the Wise_, was an indefatigable collector of relics. After his death, one of the monks employed by him, solicited payment for several parcels he had purchased for our _wise_ Elector; but the times had changed! He was advised to resign this business; the relics for which he desired payment they were willing _to return_; that since the Reformation of Luther, the price of such ware had considerably fallen; and that they would be more esteemed, and find a _better market_ in Italy than in Germany!

In his “Traité preparatif à l’Apologie pour Herodote,” c. 39, Stephens says, “A monk of St. Anthony, having been at Jerusalem, saw there several relics, among which was a bit of the finger of the Holy Ghost, as sound and entire as it had ever been; the snout of the seraphim that appeared to St. Francis; one of the nails of a cherubim; one of the ribs of the _Verbum caro factum_, (the Word was made flesh,) some rays of the star that appeared to the three kings of the east; a phial of St. Michael’s sweat, when he was fighting against the devil; a hem of Joseph’s garment, which he wore when he cleaved wood, &c. All which things,” observes our treasurer of relics, “I have brought with me home very devoutly.” Henry III. who was deeply tainted with the superstition of the age, summoned all the great in the kingdom to meet in London. This summons excited the most general curiosity, and multitudes appeared. The king then acquainted them that the great master of the knights templars had sent him a phial containing _a small portion of the sacred blood of Christ_, which he had shed upon the _cross_! and _attested to be genuine_ by the seals of the patriarch of Jerusalem, and others. He commanded a procession on the following day, and, adds the historian, that though the road between St. Paul’s and Westminster Abbey was very deep and miry, the king kept his eyes constantly fixed on the phial. Two monks received it, and deposited the phial in the abbey, “which made all England shine with glory, dedicating it to God and St. Edward.”

In his life of Henry VIII. Lord Herbert notices the _great fall of the price of relics_ at the dissolution of the monasteries. “The respect given to relics, and some pretended miracles, fell, insomuch as I find by our records, that a _piece of St. Andrew’s finger_, (covered only with an ounce of silver,) being laid to pledge by a monastery for forty pounds, was left unredeemed at the dissolution of the house; the king’s commissioners, who, upon surrender of any foundation, undertook to pay the debts, refusing to pay the price again;” that is, they did not choose to repay the _forty pounds, to receive a piece of the finger of St. Andrew_. About this time the property of relics suddenly sunk to a South-Sea bubble; for shortly after the artifice of the Road of Grace, at Boxley, in Kent, was fully opened to the eye of the populace, and a far-famed relic at Hales in Gloucestershire, of the blood of Christ, was at the same time exhibited. It was showed in a phial, and it was believed that none could see it who were in mortal sin: and after many trials usually repeated to the same person, the deluded pilgrim at length went away fully satisfied. This relic was the _blood of a duck_, renewed every week, and put into a phial; one side of which was _opaque_, and the other _transparent_; either side of which was turned to the pilgrim which the monk thought proper. The success of the pilgrim depended on the oblations he had made. Those who were scanty in their offerings, were the longest in getting a sight of the blood. When a man was in despair he usually became generous.

THE END.

W. WILSON, PRINTER, 57, SKINNER-STREET, LONDON.

-----

Footnote 1:

The discipline of the augurs is of very ancient date, having been
prohibited by Moses, in Leviticus. The cup put in Joseph’s sack, was
that used by Joseph to take auguries by. In its more general
signification, augury comprises all the different kinds of divination,
which Varrow distinguishes into four species of augury, according to
the four elements; namely, _pyromancy_, or augury by fire;
_aeromancy_, or augury by the air; _hydromancy_, or augury by the
water; and _geomancy_, or augury by the earth.—See DIVINATION. The
Roman augurs took their presages concerning futurity from birds,
beasts, and the appearances of the heavens, &c.

Footnote 2:

See AUGURS.

Footnote 3:

A coal starting out of the fire _prognosticates_ either a purse or a
coffin, as the imagination may figure either one or the other
represented upon it: the death-watch, a species of ticking spider, the
inseparable companion of old houses and old furniture, is, when heard,
a _sure_ prognostic of a death in the family: the sediment of the
sugar, in the form of froth, rising to the top of a cup of tea, is an
_infallible_ presage of the person going to receive money: the itching
of the palm of the hand, which is to be immediately rubbed on wood,
“that it may come to good,” or on brass, “that it may come to pass,”
&c. is the _certain_ foreboding of being about to have money paid or
otherwise transferred.

Footnote 4:

These are but a very small proportion of the minor species of
superstitions which influence weak and uninstructed minds in all
countries. The vulgar, even in the most enlightened periods, are not
entirely exempt from belief in the powers of sorcery and magic, and
other fantastical and imaginary agencies, such as Exorcisms, Charms,
and Amulets. It is pleasing, however, to contrast the present times,
in which there is almost an extinction of these delusions, with ages
not very remote. It is only 182 years, (counting from 1819) since
great numbers of persons were condemned to death, in the ordinary
course of law, and executed for witchcraft, in England; and only 119
years (from the same date) since the like disgraceful proceedings took
place in Scotland. The like trials, convictions, and executions, took
place in New England, in the end of the 17th century. See _Evelyn’s
Memoirs_, vol. xi. p. 35.

Footnote 5:

Du Cange has remarked, that the common expression, “_May this piece of
bread choke me!_” originates with this custom. The anecdote of Earl
Godwin’s death by swallowing a piece of bread, in making this
asseveration, is recorded in our history. If it be true, it was a
singular misfortune.

Footnote 6:

Dr. Fludd, or, as he stated himself in Latin, _De Fluctibus_, was the
second son of Sir Thomas Fludd, Treasurer of War to Queen Elizabeth,
was born at Milgate in Kent; and died at his own house in
Coleman-Street, September 8, 1637. He was a strenuous supporter of the
Rosicrucian philosophy; was considered a man of some eminence in his
profession, and by no means an insignificant writer.

Footnote 7:

Melancthon was also a believer in judicial astrology, and an
interpreter of dreams. Richelieu and Mazarine were so superstitious as
to employ and pension Morin, another pretender to astrology, who cast
the nativities of these two able politicians. Nor was Tacitus himself,
who generally appears superior to superstition, untainted with this
folly, as may appear from the twenty-second chapter of the sixth book
of his Annals.

Footnote 8:

The noted THUMERSEN, in the seventeenth century, was invested at
Berlin with the respective offices of printer to the court,
bookseller, almanack-maker, astrologer, chemist, and first physician.
Messengers daily arrived from the most respectable houses in Germany,
Poland, Hungary, Denmark, and even from England, for the purpose of
consulting him respecting the future fortunes of new-born infants,
acquainting him with the hour of their nativity, and soliciting his
advice and directions as to their management. Many volumes of this
singular correspondence are still preserved in the Royal library at
Berlin. He died in high reputation and favour with his superstitious
contemporaries; and his astrological Almanack is still published in
some of the less enlightened provinces of Germany.

Footnote 9:

I so well remember the Chaldean predictions to Pompey, to Crassus, and
to this same Cæsar, that none of them should die, but full of years
and glory, and in his house, that I am surprised that there are yet
some persons capable to believe those, whose predictions are every day
contradicted and refuted by the court.

Footnote 10:

Antipater and Achinapolus have shewn, that Genethliology should rather
be founded on the time of the conception than on that of the birth.

Footnote 11:

Astrologers and wise men of the present day, thanks to a statute or
two in the civil code, limit their star-gazing faculties to the making
of calendars or almanacks.

Footnote 12:

In 1523, the astrologers having prophesied incessant rains and fearful
floods, the abbot of St. Bartholomew, in Smithfield, built a house on
Harrow-the-Hill, and stored it with provisions. Many persons followed
his example and repaired to high places. However, no extraordinary
floods appearing, the disappointed soothsayers pacified the people by
owning themselves mistaken just one hundred years in their
calculation.—HALL.

Footnote 13:

From this art of Solomon, exhibited through the medium of a ring or
seal, we have the eastern stories which celebrate the seal of Solomon,
and record the potency of its sway over the various orders of
_demons_, or of genii, who are supposed to be the invincible
tormentors or benefactors of the human race.

Footnote 14:

The discovery of the virtues of the Peruvian bark may here serve as an
instance. The story goes, that an Indian (some say a monkey) being ill
of a fever, quenched his thirst at a pool of water, strongly
impregnated with the bark from some trees having accidentally fallen
into it, and that he was in consequence cured.

Footnote 15:

John Atkins, author of the Navy Surgeon: 1742.

Footnote 16:

Turner, in his collection of Cases, p. 406, gives one of a woman who
died hydrophobical, from a mad dog biting her gown; and of a young man
who died raving mad, from the scratch of a cat, four years after the
accident.

Footnote 17:

This species of delusion reminds us of the Florentine quack, who gave
the countryman his pills, which were to enable him to find his lost
ass. The pills beginning to operate on his road home, obliged him to
retire into a wood, where he actually did find his ass. The clown, as
a matter of course, soon spread the report of the wonderful success of
the empiric, who, no doubt, in consequence of this circumstance,
reaped an ample reward from the proprietors of strayed cattle.

Footnote 18:

James the First wrote a philippic against it, entitled a
“COUNTERBLASTE TO TOBACCO,” in which the royal author, with more
prejudice than dignity, informs his loving subjects, that “_it is a
custome loathsome to the eye, hatefull to the nose, painfull to the
braine, dangerous to the lungs; and in the black stinking fume
thereof, nearest resembling the horrible stygian smoke of the pit that
is bottomlesse_.”

Footnote 19:

The prohibition of the bath was numbered among the restrictions to
which certain priestesses were bound by the rigid rules of their
order.

Footnote 20:

An eminent physician of the fourth century, born at Pergamus, or,
according to others, at Sardis, where he resided for some time.

Footnote 21:

Called Amidenus, from the place of his birth, flourished at
Alexandria, about the end of the fifth century.

Footnote 22:

The word Alchymy seems to be compounded of the Arabic augmentative
particle _al_, and the Latin Kemia or Greek χημια, chemistry. This
etymology, however, is objected to by some, who deny the Arabians any
share in the composition of the word; urging that _alchemia_ occurs in
an author who wrote before the Europeans had any commerce with the
Arabians, or the Arabians any learning, _i. e._ before the time of
Mahomet.

Footnote 23:

Philosoph. Magazine, Vol. vi. p. 383.

Footnote 24:

Descartes imagined that he had found out a diet that would prolong his
life five hundred years.

Footnote 25:

Quædam opera magica mulieribus perfecta fuère, sicut de productione
aquarum reperimus apud Chaldæos; si decem Virgines se ornent,
vestimenta rubra inducant, saltent ita ut una altera impellat, idque
progrediendo et retrogrediendo, digitos denique versus solem certis
signis extendant, ad finem perducta illâ actione, aquas illici et
prodire dicunt. Sic scribunt, si quatuor mulieres in terga jaceant, et
pedes suas cum composione versus cœlum extendant, certa verba, certos
item gestus, adhibeat illas turpi hac actione grandinem decidentem
avertere.—_Tiedman’s “Disputatio de quæstione, quæ fuerit artium
magicarum origo.”_

Footnote 26:

This method of solving the above problem is supported by the authority
of many fathers of the church.

Footnote 27:

Amasis cum frui Amplexibus Ladices nequiret impotentem sese ab ea
redditum contendebat pertinacissime. Vide Herodotum, lib. 2.

Footnote 28:

It is clearly shewn by the earliest records, that the ancients were in
the possession of many powerful remedies; thus Melampus of Argos, the
most ancient Greek physician with whom we are acquainted, is said to
have cured one of the Argonauts of sterility, by administering the
rust of iron in wine for ten days; and the same physician used
Hellebore as a purge, on the daughters of King Prœtus, who were
afflicted with melancholy. Venesection was also a remedy of very early
origin, for Podalerius, on his return from the Trojan war, cured the
daughter of Damethus, who had fallen from a height, by bleeding her in
both arms. Opium, or a preparation of the poppy, was certainly known
in the earliest ages; and it was probably opium that Helen mixed with
wine, and gave to the guests of Menelaus, under the expressive name of
_nepenthe_, (Odyss. Δ,) to drive away their cares, and increase their
hilarity; and this conjecture receives much support from the fact,
that the _nepenthe_ of Homer was obtained from the Egyptian Thebes,
(whence the Tincture of Opium has been called _Thebaic_ Tincture;) and
if the opinion of Dr. Darwin may be credited, the Cumæan Sibyll never
sat on the portending tripod without first swallowing a few drops of
the juice of the cherry-laurel.

“At Phœbi nondum Patiens, immanis in antro,
Bacchatur vates, magnum si pectore possit
Excussisse deum: tanto magis ille fategat
Os rabidum, fera corda domans, fingitque premendo.”
ÆNEID, l. vi. v. 78.

There is reason to believe that the Pagan priesthood were under the
influence of some narcotic during the display of their oracular
powers, but the effects produced would seem rather to resemble those
of opium, or perhaps of stramonium, than of Prussic acid. Monardus
tells us, that the priests of the American Indians, whenever they were
consulted by the chief gentlemen, or _caciques_, as they are called,
took certain leaves of the tobacco, and cast them into the fire, and
then received the smoke which they thus produced in their mouths, in
consequence of which they fell down upon the ground; and that after
having remained for some time in a stupor, they recovered, and
delivered the answers, which they pretended to have received during
their supposed intercourse with the world of spirits. The sedative
powers of the garden lettuce were known in the earliest times. Among
the fables of antiquity we read, that after the death of Adonis, Venus
threw herself upon a bed of lettuces, to lull her grief and repress
her desires. The sea onion, or _squill_, was administered by the
Egyptians in cases of dropsy, under the mystic title of the Eye of
Typhon. The practices of incision and scarification, were employed in
the camp of the Greeks before Troy, and the application of spirit to
wounds, was also understood, for we find the experienced Nestor
applying a cataplasm, composed of cheese, onion, and meal, mixed up
with the wine of Pramnos, to the wounds of Machaon.

Footnote 29:

Æis addatur quod scripsit Necepsos, draconem radios habentem
insculptum, collo suspensum, ita ut contingeret ventriculum, mire ei
prodesse.—TIEDMAN.

Footnote 30:

On the subject of the Jewish magii, the works of Buxtorf, Lightfoot,
Bekker, and others, have been consulted.

Footnote 31:

Les Juifs croient que Lilis veut faire mourir les garçons dans le
huitième jour après leur naissance, et les filles dans le
vingt-unième. Voici le remède des Juifs Allemans pour se préserver de
ce danger. Ils tirent des traits en ronde avec de la craϊe, ou avec
des charbons de bois, sur les quatre murs de la chambre oû est
l’accouchée, et ils écrivent sur chaque trait: _Adam! Eve! qui Lilis
se retire_. Ils écrivent aussi sur le parti de chambre les noms des
trois anges qui président à la médicine, _Senai_, _Sansenai_, et
_Sanmangelof_, ainsi que Lilis elle-même leur apprit qu’il falloit
faire lorsqu’elle espéroit de les faire tout tous noyer dans la mer.
_Elias, as quoted by Becker._

Footnote 32:

This remarkable confession may be found in Menange’s. Observations sur
la langue Françoise, Part II. p. 110.

Footnote 33: