ST. BENEDICT.
PART I. A.D. 480-529.
Let us now look again at the monks. Their way of life was at first
devised as a means of either practising repentance for sin, or rising to
such a height of holiness as was supposed to be beyond the reach of
persons busied in the affairs of this world. But in course of time a
change took place. As the life of monks grew more common, it grew less
strict; indeed, it would seem that whenever any way of life which
professes to be very strict becomes common, its strictness will pretty
surely be lessened, or given up altogether. People at first turned monks
because they felt that such means of holy living as they had been used
to did not make them so good as they ought to be, and because they hoped
to do better in this new kind of life. But when the monkish life was no
longer new, monks neglected its rules, just as those before them had
neglected the rules which holy Scripture and the Church had laid down
for all Christians.
In the unhappy days which had now come on, the monasteries of the west
had in great measure escaped the evils of war and conquest which laid
waste everything around them. The barbarians, who overwhelmed the
empire, generally respected them; and now the life of monks, instead of
being chosen for its hardships, as it had been at first, came to be
regarded as the easiest and the safest life of all. It was sought after
as one which would free people from the dangers to which they would be
liable if they remained in the world, and took the common share in the
world's risks and troubles.
Another important matter was this--that monkery had taken its rise in
Egypt and in Syria, where the climate and the habits of the people were
very different from those of the western countries. And a great part of
the monkish rules were fitted only for the particular circumstances and
character of the eastern nations;--for instance, they could do with less
food than the people of the west, so that a writer of the fifth century
said, "A large appetite is gluttony in the Greeks, but in the Gauls it
is nature." Again, the Egyptians and the Syrians, in their hot climate,
did not need active employment in the same way as the western nations
do, in order to keep their minds and their bodies healthful. They could
spend their hours and their days in calmly thinking of spiritual things,
or of nothing at all, in a way which the more active mind of Europeans
cannot bear. And again, many rules as to dress, which are suitable for
one sort of climate, are quite unfit for a different sort.
Now the earlier rules for monks had been drawn up either in the east or
after eastern patterns. And although, when they were brought into the
west, people for a time obeyed them as well as they could, it was found
that they would not obey them any longer when the first heat of zeal for
monkery had passed away. Hence it followed, that, throughout the
monasteries of the west, there was a general neglect of the rules by
which they professed to be governed; and it was high time that there
should be some reformation.
A reformer arose in the sixth century. This was Benedict, who was born
near Nursia, in Italy, in the year 480. At the age of twelve he was sent
to school at Rome, under the care of a nurse, as seems to have been
usual in those days. He worked hard at his studies, but the bad
behaviour of the other boys and young men at Rome so shocked him, that,
when he had been there two years, he resolved to bear it no longer. He
therefore suddenly ran away from the city, and, after his nurse had gone
a considerable distance with him, he left her, and made his way into a
rough and lonely country near Subiaco, where he took up his abode in a
cave. Here he was found out by a monk of a neighbouring house, named
Romanus, who used daily to save part of his own allowance of food, and
to carry it to his young friend. The cave opened from the face of a
lofty rock, and the way that Romanus took of conveying the food to
Benedict was by letting it down at the end of a string from the top of
the rock.
Benedict had lived in this manner for three years when he was discovered
by some shepherds, who at first took him for some wild animal; but they
soon found that he was something very different. He taught them and
others to whom they made his abode known, and his character came to be
so much respected in the neighbourhood that he was chosen abbot of a
monastery. He warned the monks that they would probably not like him,
but they were resolved to have him nevertheless. Their habits, however,
were so bad, that Benedict felt himself obliged to check them rather
sharply; and the monks then attempted to get rid of him by mixing poison
in his drink. But he found out their wicked design, and the only reproof
which he gave them was by reminding them how he had warned them not to
make him their abbot. With this he left them to themselves, and went
quietly back to his cave.
His name now grew more and more famous. Great multitudes of people
flocked to see him, and even persons of high rank sent their sons to be
trained under him. He built twelve monasteries, each for an abbot and
twelve monks. But there was a spiteful monk, named Florentius, who would
not allow him any peace so long as they were near each other; so
Benedict thought it best to give way, and in 528 he left Subiaco, with
some companions, and, after some wanderings, arrived at Mount Cassino.
There he found that the country people still worshipped some of the old
heathen gods, and that there was a grove which was held sacred to these
gods. But he set boldly to work, and, notwithstanding all that could be
done to oppose him, he cut down the grove, destroyed the idols, and
built a little chapel, from which in time grew up a great and famous
monastery, which still exists. And at Mount Cassino he drew up his Rule
in the year 529; so that the beginning of the monks of St. Benedict was
in the very same year in which heathen philosophy came to its end by the
closing of the schools of Athens.[53]
[53] See page 143.
PART II. A.D. 529-543.
Benedict had seen the mischief which arose from too great strictness of
rules. He saw how it led to open disobedience and carelessness in some,
and to hypocritical pretence in others; and therefore he meant to guard
against these faults by making his rule milder than those of the East.
It was to be such that Europeans might keep it without danger to their
health, and he allowed it to be varied according to the circumstances of
the different countries in which it might be established.
Every Benedictine monastery was to be under an abbot, who was to be
chosen by the monks. The brethren were to obey the abbot in everything,
while the abbot was charged not to be haughty or tyrannical in using his
authority. Next to the abbot there might either be a _provost_, or
(which Benedict liked better) there might be a number of _elders_ or
_deans_, who were to help and advise the abbot in the government of his
monastery. Any one who wished to join the order was to undergo trial for
a year before admission. Those who were admitted into it were required
to give in a written vow that they would continue in it, that they would
amend their lives, and that they would obey those who were set over
them. Every monk was obliged to give up all his property to the order;
nobody was allowed to have anything of his own, but all things were
common to the brethren. The monks might not receive any presents or
letters, even from their nearest relations, without the abbot's
knowledge and leave, and if a present were sent for one of them, the
abbot had the power to keep it from him, and to give it to any other
monk.
It was one important part of the rule that the monks should have
sufficient employment provided, for them. They were to get up at two
o'clock in the morning; they were to attend eight services a day, or, if
they happened to be at a distance from their monastery, they were to
observe the hours of the services by prayer; and they were to work seven
hours. Portions of time were allowed for learning psalms by heart, and
for reading the Scriptures, lives of holy men, and other edifying books.
At meals the monks were not to talk, but some book was to be read aloud
to them. Their food was to be plain and simple; no flesh was allowed,
except to the sick. But all such matters were to be settled by the
abbot, according to the climate and the season, to the age, the health,
and the employment of the monks. Their dress was to be coarse, but was
to be varied according to circumstances. They were to sleep by ten or
twenty in a room, each in a separate bed, and without taking off their
clothes. A dean was to have the care of each room, and a light was to be
kept burning in each. No talking was to be allowed after the last
service of the day.
The monks were never to go beyond the monastery without leave, and, in
order that there might be little occasion for their going out, it was to
contain within its walls the garden, the well, the mill, the bakehouse,
and other such necessary things. The abbot was to set every monk his
work; if it were found that any one was inclined to pride himself on his
skill in any art or trade, he was not to be allowed to practise it, but
was obliged to take up some other employment.
Benedict died in 543, and by that time his order had made its way into
France, Spain, and Sicily. It soon drew into itself all the monks of the
west, and was divided into a number of branches, which all looked up to
Benedict as their founder; and, although it would be a sad mistake to
wish for any revival of monkery in our own days, we ought, in justice,
to see and to acknowledge that through God's providence these monks
became the means of great benefits to mankind. Not only were their
services important for the maintenance of the Gospel where it was
already planted, and for the spreading of it among the heathen, but they
cleared forests, brought waste lands into tillage, and did much to
civilize the rude nations among whom they laboured. After a time,
learning began to be cultivated among them, and during the troubled ages
which followed, it found a refuge in the monasteries. The monks taught
the young; they copied the Scriptures and other ancient books (for
printing was as yet unknown); they wrote histories of their times, and
other books of their own. To them, indeed, it is that we are mainly
indebted for preserving the knowledge of the past through many
centuries.
CHAPTER XXX.
END OF THE SIXTH CENTURY.
PART I.
We must not suppose that the conversion of the western barbarians was of
any very perfect kind. They mixed up a great deal of their own barbarism
with their Christianity, and, besides this, they took up many of the
vices of the old and worn-out nations, whose countries they had
conquered and occupied. Much heathen superstition lingered among them:
it was even a common saying in Spain, that "if a man has to pass between
heathen altars and God's Church, it is no harm if he pay his respects to
both." The clergy were very wealthy and prosperous, but did not venture
to interfere with the vices of the great and powerful; or, if they did,
it was at their peril. For instance, when a bishop of Rouen had offended
the Frankish queen Fredegund, she caused him to be murdered in his own
cathedral, at the most solemn service of Easter-day.
Religion became a protection to crime; murderers were allowed to take
refuge in churches, and might not be dragged out until after an oath had
been made that their lives should be safe. It had been the ancient
custom of the Germans to let all crimes be atoned for by the payment of
money: if, for example, a person had killed another, he had no more to
do than to pay a certain sum to the dead man's relations. And this way
of making up for misdeeds was now brought into the Church; it was
thought that men might make satisfaction for their sins by paying money,
and that the effect would be the same if others paid for them after
their death. We may understand how this worked, from another story of
queen Fredegund, who seems to have been a perfect monster of wickedness.
She set two of her pages to murder a king, named Sigebert; and, by way
of encouraging them, she said that she would honour them highly, if they
came off with their lives; but that, if they were slain, she would lay
out a great deal of money in alms for the good of their souls!
As might naturally have been expected among such people, it came to be
very commonly thought that the observance of outward worship and
ceremonies was all that religion required. Pretended miracles were
wrought in great numbers, for the purpose of imposing on the ignorant;
and all, from the king downwards, were then ignorant enough to be
deceived by them. The superstitions which had begun in the fourth
century[54] continued to grow on the Church; such as the reverence paid
to saints, and especially to the Blessed Virgin, so that people allowed
them a part of the honour which ought to have been kept for God alone.
Among other such corruptions were the reverence for the _relics_ of
saints (that is, for parts of their bodies, or for things which had
belonged to them), and the religious honour paid to images and pictures.
These and other evils increased more and more, until, at length, they
could be borne no longer, and, in many countries, they caused the great
religious change which is called the _Reformation_.
[54] See page 90.
But nearly a thousand years had to pass before the time of the
Reformation; and, in the meanwhile, although much was amiss in the
Christianity which prevailed, it yet was the means of blessing and of
salvation. And there were never wanting good men who, although there
were many defects and errors in their opinions, firmly held and clearly
taught the necessity of a real living faith in Christ, and of a
thoroughly earnest endeavour to obey God's holy will.
PART II.
The state of Italy towards the end of the sixth century was very
wretched. Vast numbers of its people had perished in the course of the
wars by which Justinian's generals had wrested the country from the
Goths, and had again united it to the empire;[55] multitudes of others
had been destroyed by famine and pestilence. The Lombards, who had
crossed the Alps in the year 568, had obliged the emperors to yield the
north, and part of the middle of Italy, to them; and they continually
threatened the portions which still remained to the empire. No help
against them was to be got from Constantinople; and the governors whom
the emperors sent to manage their Italian dominions, instead of
directing and leading the people to resist the Lombards, only hindered
them from taking their defence into their own hands.
[55] Page 142.
The land was left uncultivated, partly through the loss of inhabitants,
and partly because those who remained were disheartened by the miseries
of the time. They had not the spirit to bestow their labour on it, when
there was almost a certainty that their crops would be destroyed or
carried off by the Lombard invaders; and the soil, when left to itself,
had in many places become so unwholesome, that it was not fit to live
on. Italy had in former times been so thickly peopled, that it had been
necessary to get supplies of corn from Sicily and from Africa. But now
such foreign supplies were wanted for a very different reason--that the
inhabitants of Italy could not, or did not, grow corn for themselves.
The city of Rome had suffered from storms, and from repeated floods of
the river Tiber, which did a great deal of damage to its buildings, and
sometimes washed away or spoiled the stores of corn which were laid up
in the granaries. The people were kept in terror by the Lombards, who
often advanced to their very walls, so that it was unsafe to venture
beyond the gates.
The condition of the Church too was very deplorable. The troubles of the
times had produced a general decay of morals and order both among the
clergy and among the people. The Lombards were Arians, and religious
enmity was added to the other causes of dislike between them and the
Romans. In Istria, there was a division which had begun after the fifth
general council,[56] and which kept the Church of that country separate
from the communion of Rome for a hundred and fifty years. The sunken
condition of Christianity in Gaul (or France) has been described in the
beginning of this chapter. Spain was just recovered from Arianism,[57]
but there was much to be done before the Catholic faith could be
considered as firmly established there. In Africa, the old sect of the
Donatists began again to lift up its head, and took courage from the
confusions of the time to vex the Church. The Churches of the east were
torn by quarrels as to Eutychianism and Nestorianism. And the patriarchs
of Constantinople seemed likely, with the help of the emperor's favour,
to be dangerous rivals to the popes of Rome.
[56] Page 145.
[57] Page 134.
Such was the state of things when Gregory the Great became pope or
bishop of Rome, in the year 590.
CHAPTER XXXI.
ST. GREGORY THE GREAT.
A.D. 540-604.
PART I.
Gregory was born at Rome, of a noble and wealthy family, in the year
540. In his youth he engaged in public business, and he rose to be
praetor of Rome, which was one of the chief offices under the government.
In this office he was much beloved and respected by the people. But
about the age of thirty-five, a great change took place in his life. He
resolved to forsake the pursuit of worldly honours, and spent all his
wealth in founding seven monasteries. He gave up his family house at
Rome to begin a monastery, in which he became at first a simple monk,
and was afterwards chosen abbot. A pope, named Pelagius, showed him
great favour, by making him his secretary, and employing him for some
years as a sort of ambassador at the emperor's court at Constantinople.
And when Pelagius was carried off by a plague, in the year 589, the
nobles, the clergy, and the people of Rome all agreed in choosing
Gregory to succeed him.
Gregory was afraid to undertake the office. It was necessary that the
emperor should consent to his appointment; and he wrote to beg that the
emperor would refuse his consent. But the governor of Rome stopped the
letter, and all the other attempts which Gregory made to escape the
honour intended for him were baffled; so that in the end he was obliged
to submit, and was consecrated as bishop of Rome in September, 590.
Gregory felt all the difficulties of his new place. He compares his
Church to an old ship, shattered by winds and waves, decayed in its
timbers, full of leaks, and in continual danger of going to wreck. The
vast quantity and variety of business which he went through appears to
us from the collection of his letters, of which about eight hundred and
fifty still remain. We see from these how he strove to strengthen his
Church in all quarters, and what steps he took for the government of it.
Some of the letters are addressed to emperors and kings, and treat about
the greatest affairs of Church or State. And then all at once we find
him passing from such high matters to direct that some poor tenant on
one of his estates should be excused from paying a part of his rent, or
that relief should be given to some widow or orphan who had written from
a distance to ask his help.
The bishops of Rome had by degrees become very rich. They had estates,
not only in Italy and Sicily, but in Africa, in France, and even in
Asia. And the people who managed these estates were employed by Gregory
to carry on his other business in the same countries, and to report the
state of the Church to him from all quarters. Very little of his large
income was spent on himself. We may have some notion of the plain way in
which the great bishop lived from one of his letters to the steward of
his estates in Sicily. "You have sent me," says Gregory, "one wretched
horse, and five good asses. I cannot ride the horse because he is
wretched; nor the good beasts, because they are but asses." He lived
chiefly in the company of monks and clergy, employing himself in study
with them. And, in the midst of all the business which took up his time,
he wrote a number of books, of which some are very valuable. He was also
famous as a preacher. Among his sermons are a set of twenty-two on the
prophet Ezekiel, which he had meant to carry further. But he was obliged
to break off by the attacks of the Lombards, as he told his people in
the end of the last sermon--"Let no one blame me," he says, "if after
this discourse I stop, since, as you all see, our troubles are
multiplied on us. On every side we are surrounded with swords; on every
side we dread the danger of death which is close at hand. Some come back
to us with their hands cut off; we hear of some as being taken
prisoners, and of others as slain. I am forced to with-hold my tongue
from expounding, since my soul is weary of my life (_Job_ x. 1). How can
I, who am forced daily to drink bitter things, draw forth sweet things
to you? What remains for us, but that in the chastisement which we are
suffering because of our misdeeds, we should give thanks with weeping to
Him who made us, and who hath bestowed on us the spirit of adoption
(_Rom._ viii. 15)--to Him who sometimes nourisheth His children with
bread, and sometimes correcteth them with a scourge--who, by benefits
and by sufferings alike, is training us for an eternal inheritance?"
Gregory laboured zealously in improving the education of the clergy, and
in reforming such disorders as he found in his Church. He founded a
school for singing, and established a new way of chanting, which from
him has the name of the _Gregorian Chant_, and is used to this day. We
are told that the whip with which he used to correct his choristers was
kept at Rome as a relic for hundreds of years.
His charities were very great. On the first day of every month he gave
out large quantities of provisions to the people of Rome. The old
nobility had suffered so much by the wars, and by the loss of their
estates in countries which had been torn from them by the barbarians,
that many of them were glad to come in for a share of the good pope's
bounty. Every day he sent relief to a number of poor persons in all
parts of the city; and he used to send dishes from his own table to
those whom he knew to be in distress, but ashamed to ask for assistance.
Once when a poor man was found dead in the streets, Gregory denied
himself the holy communion for some days, because it seemed to him that
he must be in some measure to blame. He used to receive strangers and
wanderers at his own table, out of regard for our Lord's
words--"Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my
brethren, ye have done it unto me" (_St. Matt._ xxv. 40).
PART II.
Having thus seen something of Gregory's life at home, we must now look
at his proceedings in other quarters.
He had a sharp dispute with a bishop of Constantinople, on account of
the title of _Universal Bishop_, which the patriarchs of the eastern
capital had for some time taken to themselves. When we hear such a
title, we may naturally fancy that it signified a claim to authority
over the whole Church on earth. But, as it was then used, it really had
no such meaning. The Greeks were fond of lofty and sounding titles,
which seemed to mean much more than they were really understood to mean.
This fondness appears in the titles of the emperors and of the officers
of their empire, and it was by it that the patriarchs were led to style
themselves "Universal Bishop." If the title had been intended as a claim
to authority over all Churches, it could only have been given to one
person at a time; but we find that the emperor Justinian gave it to the
bishops both of Constantinople and of Rome, and that he styled each of
them "Head of all the Churches;" and, whatever the patriarchs of
Constantinople may have meant by it, they certainly did not make any
claim to authority over Rome or the western Church.
But there was an old jealousy between the sees of Rome and
Constantinople, ever since the time when the second general council in
381 gave the bishop of Constantinople the second place of honour in the
whole Church.[58] This jealousy had grown greater in late times, when
there was no very kindly feeling between the emperors and their Italian
subjects, and when it seemed not impossible that the bishop of the new
capital, backed by the emperor, might even try to dispute the first
place with the bishop of Rome. And Gregory, who did not understand the
Greek language, or how little the Greeks meant by their fine titles, was
ready to take offence at the name of "Universal Bishop." So, when a
bishop of Constantinople, John the Faster, styled himself so on an
important occasion, Gregory objected strongly;--he wrote to John, to the
emperor, and to the bishops of Alexandria and of Antioch, declaring that
the title was proud and foolish, that it came from the devil, and was a
token of Antichrist's approach, and that it was unfit for any Christian
bishop to use. The emperor, however, would not help him against the
patriarch. John would not yield, and the other eastern patriarchs
(partly from a wish to be at peace, and partly because the words did not
seem offensive to them, as they did to Gregory), were little disposed to
take up his quarrel. After a time, another emperor, who had special
reasons for wishing to stand well with Gregory, forbade the successor of
John to call himself "Universal;" but the title was soon restored by the
emperors to the bishops of Constantinople, although not until after the
death of Gregory. The most curious part of the story, however, is
this--that Gregory's successors in the popedom have taken up the very
title which he condemned so strongly; and that, instead of using it in
the harmless meaning which it had in the east, they have intended it as
a claim to power over the whole Church,--that claim of which the very
notion filled Gregory with such horror and indignation, and which he
declared to be unfit for any bishop whatever to make.
[58] See page 84.
PART III.
Gregory did much to bring over the Lombards from their Arianism, and he
succeeded in part, although the work was not completed until after his
time. He also laboured earnestly to revive the Church in France and in
other countries. But instead of dwelling on these things, I shall
content myself with telling of the chief work which he did in spreading
the Gospel; and it is one which very much concerns ourselves.
In those days slavery was common throughout all the known world, and,
although the Gospel had wrought a great improvement in the treatment of
slaves, by making the masters feel that they and their slaves were
brethren in Christ, it yet had not forbidden slavery. But there was a
feeling of pity for those who fell into this sad condition by the
chances of war or otherwise. It was a common act of charity for good
Christians to redeem captives and to set them at liberty. This, indeed,
was thought so holy a work, and so agreeable to the words of
Scripture--"I will have mercy, and not sacrifice" (_Hos._ vi. 6; _St.
Matt._ ix. 13), that bishops often broke up and sold even the
consecrated plate of their churches in order that they might get the
means of ransoming captives whom they heard of. And, although slavery
was still allowed by the laws of Christian kingdoms, those laws took
care that Christian slaves should not be under Jews, or masters of any
other than their own religion.
Gregory, then, while he was yet a monk, went one day into the market at
Rome, just after the arrival of some merchants with a large cargo of
slaves for sale. Some of these poor creatures, perhaps, had been taken
in war; others had probably been sold by their own parents for the sake
of the price which they fetched; for we are told that this shocking
practice was not uncommon among some of the ruder nations. As Gregory
looked at them, his eyes fell on some boys with whose appearance he was
greatly struck. Their skin was fair, unlike the dark complexions of the
Italians and other southern nations whom he had been used to see. Their
features were beautiful, and they had long light flowing hair. He asked
the merchants from what land these boys had been brought. "From
Britain," they said; and they told him that the bright complexion which
he admired so much was common among the people of that island. Perhaps
Gregory had never thought of Britain before. It was nearly two hundred
years since the Roman troops had been withdrawn from it, and its
inhabitants had been left to themselves. And since that time the pagan
Saxons had overrun it; the Romans had lost the countries which lay
between them and it; and Britain had quite disappeared from their
knowledge. Gregory, therefore, was obliged to ask whether the people
were Christians or heathens, and he was told that they were still
heathens. The good monk sighed deeply. "Alas, and woe!" said he, "that
people with such faces of light should belong to the author of darkness,
and that so goodly an outward favour should be void of inward grace." He
asked what was the name of their nation, and was told that they were
_Angles_. "It is well," he said, "for they have _angels'_ faces, and
such as they ought to be joint-heirs with the angels in heaven.--What is
the name of the province from which they come?" He was told that it was
Deira (a Saxon kingdom, which stretched along the eastern side of
Britain, from the Humber to the Tyne). The name of Deira sounded to
Gregory's ears like two Latin words, which mean "from wrath." "Well,
again," he said, "they are delivered _from the wrath_ of God, and are
called to the mercy of Christ.--What is the name of the king of that
country?" "Aella," was the answer. "Alleluiah!" (_Praise to God!_)
exclaimed Gregory; "the praises of God their maker ought to be sung in
that kingdom."
He went at once to the pope, and asked leave to go as a missionary to
the heathens of Britain. But, although the pope consented, the people of
Rome were so much attached to Gregory that they would not allow him to
set out, and he was obliged to give up the plan. Yet he did not forget
the heathens of Britain; and when he became pope, although he could not
himself go to them, he was able to send others for the work of their
conversion.
An opening had been made by the marriage of Ethelbert, king of Kent, the
Saxon kingdom which lay nearest to the continent, with Bertha, daughter
of Charibert, a Frankish king, whose capital was Paris (A.D. 570). As
Charibert and his family were Christians, it had been agreed that the
young queen should be allowed freely to practise her religion, and a
French bishop, named Luidhard, came to England with her, and acted as
her chaplain. Ethelbert by degrees became much more powerful than he was
at the time of his marriage, and in 593 he was chosen Bretwalda, which
was the title given to the chief of the Saxon kings. This office gave
him much influence over most of the other kingdoms; so that, if his
favour could be gained, it was likely to be of very great advantage for
recommending the Gospel to others. But Ethelbert was still a heathen,
after having been married to Bertha about five-and-twenty years,
although we may well suppose that she had sometimes spoken to him of her
religion, and had tried to bring him over to it. And perhaps Bertha may
have had a share in sending Gregory the reports which he mentions, that
the Saxons in England were ready to receive the Gospel, and in begging
him to take pity on them.
PART IV.
In the year 596 Gregory sent off a party of monks as missionaries to the
English Saxons. The head of them was Augustine, who had been provost
(that is, the highest person after the abbot)[59] of the monastery to
which the pope himself had formerly belonged. And, at the same time,
Gregory directed the manager of his estates in France to buy up a number
of captive Saxon youths, and to place them in monasteries, that they
might learn the Christian faith, and might afterwards become
missionaries to their own countrymen.
[59] See page 150.
When Augustine and his brethren had got as for as the south of France,
they heard many terrible stories of the English, so they took fright at
the thought of going among such savages, whose very language was unknown
to them; and Augustine went back to Rome to beg that they might be
allowed to give up their undertaking. But Gregory would not consent to
this. He encouraged them to go on, and he gave Augustine letters to some
French kings and bishops, desiring them to assist the missionaries, and
to supply them with interpreters who understood the language of the
Saxons. Augustine, therefore, returned to the place where he had left
his companions. They made their way across France, and in 597 he landed,
with about forty monks, in the Isle of Thanet.
Ethelbert lived at Canterbury, the capital of the Kentish kingdom, at no
great distance from the place where the missionaries had landed. On
receiving notice of their arrival, he sent to desire that they would
remain where they were until he should visit them; and within a few days
he went to them. The meeting was held in the open air; for Ethelbert had
a superstitious fear that they might do him some mischief by magical
arts, if he were to trust himself under a roof with them. The
missionaries advanced in procession, with a silver cross borne before
them, and displaying a picture of the crucified Saviour; and, as they
slowly moved onwards, they chanted a prayer for their own salvation and
that of the people to whom they had been sent. Ethelbert received them
courteously, and desired them to sit down; and then Augustine made a
speech, telling the king that they were come to preach the word of life
to him and to his subjects. "These are indeed fair words and promises
which you bring with you," said Ethelbert; "but, because they are new
and uncertain, I cannot at once take up with them, and leave the faith
which I and all my people have so long observed. But as you have come
from far, and as I think you wish to give us a share in things which you
believe to be true and most profitable, we will not show you unkindness,
but rather will receive you hospitably, and not hinder you from
converting as many as you can to your religion."
He then granted them a lodging in his capital, and ordered that they
should be supplied with all that they might need. As they drew near to
Canterbury, they again displayed the silver cross, and the banner on
which the Saviour was painted; and they entered the city in procession,
chanting a litany which Gregory had made for the people of Rome, during
the great plague which carried off pope Pelagius.
A little way outside the city they found a small church, which had been
built in the days of the old British Christianity, and in which Luidhard
had since held his service for Queen Bertha and the Christians of her
court. It was called by the name of St. Martin; for even before the
Saxon invasion his name had become so famous that many churches were
called after it; and we may well believe that Queen Bertha, on arriving
from France, was glad to find that the church in which she was to
worship had long ago been named in honour of the great saint of her own
land. There Augustine and his brethren now held their service; and the
sight of their holy, gentle, and self-denying lives soon drew many to
receive their instructions. Ethelbert himself was baptized on
Whitsunday, 597, and, although he would not force his people to profess
the Gospel, he declared himself desirous of their conversion.
Gregory had desired Augustine, if he met with success in the beginning
of his mission, to return from Britain into France and be consecrated as
a bishop. He now obeyed this direction, and was consecrated at Arles;
and without any delay he again crossed the sea, and renewed his labours
among the Saxons. Such was his progress in the work of conversion, that
at Christmas of the year in which he first landed in Britain ten
thousand persons were baptized in one day. Four years later, Gregory
made him an archbishop; and he sent him a fresh body of clergy to help
him, with a large supply of books, vestments, and other things for the
service of the Church. He also gave him instructions how to proceed, so
as to advance the true faith without giving needless offence to the
prejudices of the heathen.
Augustine's chief difficulties, indeed, were not with the Saxons, but
with the clergy of the ancient British Church, whom he could not succeed
in bringing to an agreement. We must not lay the blame wholly on either
side; if the Britons were somewhat jealous and obstinate, Augustine
seems to have taken too much upon himself in his way of dealing with
them. But, whatever his faults may have been, we are bound to hold his
memory in honour for the zealous and successful labours by which the
Gospel was a second time introduced into the southern part of this
island. Before his death, in 604, he had established a second bishop for
Kent, in the city of Rochester, and one at London, which was then the
capital of the kingdom of Essex. And by degrees, partly by the followers
of St. Augustine, and partly by the Scotch monks of Icolumbkill,[60] all
the Saxon kingdoms of England were converted to the Christian faith.
[60] See page 139.
In the same year with Augustine, Gregory also died, after long and
severe illness, which obliged him for years to keep his bed, but could
not check his activity in watching over the interests of religion.
Gregory had intended that Augustine should be archbishop of London,
because in the old Roman days London had been the chief city of Britain;
and it might seem natural that the chief bishop of our Church should now
take his title from the capital of all England. But when Gregory sent
forth his missionaries he did not know that England had been divided by
the Saxons into several kingdoms. In consequence of this division of the
country, Augustine, instead of becoming archbishop of London, fixed
himself in the capital of Kent, the first kingdom which he converted,
and then the most powerful of all. Hence it is that his successors, the
primates of all England, to this day, are not archbishops of London but
of Canterbury.
And, although Canterbury be not now a very large town, it is a very
interesting place, and is full of memorials of its first archbishop. The
noble cathedral, called Christ Church, stands in the same place with an
ancient Roman-British church which Augustine recovered from heathen uses
and consecrated in honour of the Saviour. Close to it are the remains of
the archbishop's palace, built on the same ground with the palace of
Ethelbert, which he gave up to the missionaries. A little church of St.
Martin still stands on a rising ground outside the city, on the spot
where Bertha and Luidhard had worshipped before the arrival of
Augustine, and where he and his brethren celebrated their earliest
services. And, although it has been rebuilt since then, we may still see
in its walls a number of bricks which by their appearance are known to
be Roman,--the very same materials of which the little church was built
at first, while the Romans were yet in Britain, fourteen centuries and a
half ago; nay, it is even supposed that some part of the masonry is
Roman too. Between St. Martin's and the cathedral lay the great
monastery of St. Peter and St. Paul, which Augustine began to build. He
died before it was finished; but, as soon as it was ready, his body was
removed to it, and in it Queen Bertha and her husband were afterwards
buried. After a time the name of the monastery was changed to St.
Augustine's, and for hundreds of years it was the chief monastery of all
England. The Reformation in the sixteenth century put an end to
monasteries; and the buildings of St. Augustine's went through many
changes, until in the year 1844 the place was turned to a purpose
similar to that which Augustine and Gregory had at heart when they
undertook the conversion of England; for it is now a college for
training missionaries. And, as Gregory wished that Saxon boys should be
brought up with a view to converting their countrymen, so there are now
at St. Augustine's College young men from distant heathen nations,
receiving an education which may fit them hereafter to become
missionaries of the Church of England to their brethren.[61] Nor is the
good Gregory forgotten in the city which owes so much to him; for within
the last few years a beautiful little church called by his name has
been built, close to the college of St. Augustine.
[61] Among those who were at the College when this volume was first
printed was Kalli, the Esquimaux, of whom an account has since been
written by the Rev. T. B. Murray, and published by the Society for
Promoting Christian Knowledge. He afterwards went to the diocese of
Newfoundland, where he died of consumption.
Here this little book must close. It ends with the replanting of the
Gospel in our own land. And, if hereafter the story should be carried
further, some of its brightest pages will be filled by the labours of
the missionaries who went forth from England to preach the faith of
Christ in Germany and the adjoining countries.
PART II.
CHAPTER I.
MAHOMETANISM--IMAGE-WORSHIP.
A.D. 612-794.
Within a few years after the death of Gregory the Great, a new religion
was set up by an Arabian named Mahomet, who seems to have been honest,
although mistaken, at first, but grew less honest as he went on, and as
he became more successful and powerful. His religion was made up partly
from the Jewish, partly from the Christian, and partly from other
religions which he found around him; but he gave out that it had been
taught him by visions and revelations from heaven, and these pretended
revelations were gathered into a book called the Koran, which serves
Mahomet's followers for their Bible. This new religion was called
_Islam_, which means submission to the will of God; and the sum of it
was declared to be that "there is but one God, and Mahomet is his
prophet."
One point in the new religion was, that every faithful Mahometan (or
Mussulman, as they were called) was required once in his life to go on
pilgrimage to Mecca, a city which was Mahomet's birthplace, and was
considered to be especially holy; and to this day it is visited every
year by great companies of pilgrims. Another remarkable thing was, that
he commanded his followers to spread their religion by force; and this
was done with such success, that within about sixty years after
Mahomet's death they had conquered Syria and the Holy Land, Egypt,
Persia, parts of Asia Minor, and all the north of Africa. A little
later, they crossed the Straits of Gibraltar, and got possession of
Spain, where their kingdom of Granada lasted until 1492, nearly eight
hundred years. In the countries which the Mussulmans subdued, Christians
were allowed to live and to keep up their religion; but they had to pay
a heavy tribute, and to bear great hardships and disgraces at the hands
of the conquerors.
I have mentioned that before Gregory the Great's time almost all Europe
had been overrun by the rude nations of the north.[62] Learning nearly
died out, and what remained of it was kept up by the monks and clergy
only. There is but little to tell of the history of those times; for,
although in the Greek empire there were great disputes about some
doctrines and practices, these matters were such as you would not care
to know about, nor would you be much the wiser if you did know.
[62] See Part I., chap XXIII.
I may, however, mention that one of these disputes was about images, to
which the Christians of those ages, and especially the Greeks, had come
by degrees to pay a sort of reverence which St. Augustine and other
fathers of older days would have looked on with horror. It had become
usual to fall down before images, to pray to them, to kiss them, to burn
lights and incense in their honour, to adorn them with gold, silver, and
precious stones, to lay the hand on them in taking oaths, and even to
use them as godfathers or godmothers for children in baptism. Those who
defend the use of images would tell us that the honour is not given to
them, but to Almighty God, to the Saviour, and to the saints, through
the images. But when we find, for instance, that people paid more honour
to one image of the blessed Virgin than to another, and that they
supposed their prayers to have a greater hope of being heard when they
were said before one image than when they were said before another, we
cannot help thinking that they believed the images themselves to have
some particular virtue in them.
There were, then, some of the Greek emperors who tried to put down the
superstitious regard for images; and they were the more set on this
because the Mahometans, who abhorred images, reproached the Christians
for using them. These emperors, wishing to do away with the grounds for
such reproaches, caused the figures of stone or metal to be broken, and
the sacred pictures to be smeared over; and they persecuted very cruelly
those who were foremost in defending them. Then came other emperors who
were in favour of images; or widowed empresses, who governed during the
boyhood of their sons, and took up the cause of images with great zeal;
and thus the friends and the enemies of images succeeded each other by
turns on the throne, so that the battle was fought, backwards and
forwards, for a long time, until at length an agreement was come to
which has ever since continued in the Greek Church. By this agreement,
it was settled that the figures made by carving in stone or wood, or by
casting metal into a mould, should be forbidden, but that the use of
religious pictures (which were also called by the name of images) should
be allowed. Hence it is said that the Greeks may not worship anything of
which one can take the tip of the nose between his finger and his thumb.
But in the Latin Church the carved or molten images are still allowed;
and among the poorer and less educated people there is a great deal of
superstition connected with them.
CHAPTER II.
THE CHURCH IN ENGLAND.
A.D. 604-734.
While the light of the Gospel was darkened by the Mahometan conquests in
some parts of the world where it had once shone brightly, it was
spreading widely among the nations which had got possession of western
Europe. In England, the successors of St. Augustine converted a large
part of the Anglo-Saxons by their preaching, and much was also done by
missionaries from the island of Iona, on the west of Scotland. There, as
we have seen,[63] an Irish abbot, named Columba, had settled with some
companions about the year 565, and from Iona their teaching had been
carried all over the northern part of Britain. These missionaries from
Iona to England found a home in the island of Lindisfarne, on the
Northumbrian coast, which was given up to them by Oswald, king of
Northumbria, and from them got the name of Holy Island. Oswald himself
had been converted while an exile in Scotland; and, as he had learnt the
language of the country there, he often helped the missionaries in their
labours by interpreting what they said into the language of his own
subjects who listened to them. The Scottish missionaries carried their
labours even as far south as the river Thames; and their modest and
humble ways gained the respect and love of the people so much that, as
we are told by the Venerable Bede, wherever one of them appeared, he was
joyfully received as the servant of God. Even those who met them on the
road used eagerly to ask their blessing, and, whenever one of them came
to any village, the inhabitants flocked to hear from him the message of
the Gospel.
[63] Part I., p. 139.
But these Scottish missionaries differed in some respects from the
clergy who were connected with St. Augustine; and after a time a great
meeting was held at Whitby, in Yorkshire, to settle the questions
between them and the Roman Church. We must not suppose that these
differences were of any real importance; for they were only about such
small matters as the reckoning of the day on which Easter should be
kept, and the way in which the hair of the clergy should be clipped or
shaven. But, although these were mere trifles, the two parties were each
so set on their own ways that no agreement could be come to; and the
end was, that the Scottish missionaries went back to their own country,
and did no more work for spreading the Gospel in England, although after
a while the Scottish clergy, and those of Ireland too, were persuaded to
shave their hair and to reckon their Easter in the same way as the other
clergy of the West.
In those dark times some of the most learned and famous men were English
monks. Among them I shall mention only Bede, who is commonly called the
Venerable, and to whose care we owe almost all our knowledge of the
early history of the Church in this land. Bede was born about the year
673, near Jarrow, in Northumberland, and at the age of seven he entered
the monastery of Jarrow, where the rest of his life was spent. He tells
us of himself that he made it his pleasure every day "either to learn or
to teach or to write something;" and, after having written many precious
books during his quiet life in his cell at Jarrow, he died on the eve of
Ascension-day in the year 734, just as he had finished a translation of
St. John's Gospel.
CHAPTER III.
ST. BONIFACE.
A.D. 680-755.
Although the Church of Ireland was in a somewhat rough state at home,
many of its clergy undertook missionary work on the Continent; and by
them and others much was done for the conversion of various tribes in
Germany and in the Netherlands. But the most famous missionary of those
times was an Englishman named Winfrid, who is styled the Apostle of
Germany.
Winfrid was born near Crediton, in Devonshire, about the year 680. He
became a monk at an early age, and perhaps it was then that he took the
name of Boniface, by which he is best known. He might probably have
risen to a high place in the church of his own country if he had wished
to do so; but he was filled with a glowing desire to preach the Gospel
to the heathen. He therefore refused all the tempting offers which were
made to him at home, crossed the sea, and began to labour in Friesland
and about the lower part of the Rhine. For three years he assisted
another famous English missionary, Willibrord, bishop of Utrecht, who
wished to make Boniface his successor; but Boniface thought that he was
bound rather to labour in some country where his work was more needed;
so, leaving Willibrord, he went into Hessia, where he made and baptized
many thousands of converts. The pope, Gregory the Second, on hearing of
this success, invited him to Rome, consecrated him as a bishop, and sent
him back with letters recommending him to the princes and people of the
countries in which his work was to lie. (A.D. 723.)
The government of the Franks was then in a very odd state. There were
kings over them; but these kings, instead of carrying on the government
for themselves, and leading their nation in war, were shut up in their
palaces, except that once in the year they were brought out in a cart
drawn by bullocks to appear at the national assemblies. These poor
"do-nothings" (as the kings of the old French race are called) were
without any strength or spirit. From their way of life, they allowed
their hair to grow without being shorn; and the Greeks, who lived far
away from them, and knew of them only by hearsay, believed, not only
that their hair was long, but that it grew down their backs like the
bristles of a hog. And, while the kings had sunk into this pitiable
state, the real work of the kingly office was done, and the kingly power
was really enjoyed, by great officers who were called mayors of the
palace.
At the time which I am speaking of, the mayor of the palace was Charles,
who was afterwards known by the name of Martel, or _The Hammer_. Charles
had done a great service to Christendom by defeating a vast army of
Mahometans, who had forced their way from Spain into the heart of
France, and driving the remains of them back across the Pyrenees. It is
said that they lost 375,000 men in the battle which they fought with
Charles near Poitiers (A.D. 732); and, although this number is no doubt
beyond the truth, it is certain that the infidels were so much weakened
that they never ventured to attempt any more conquests in western
Europe. But, although Charles had thus done very great things for the
Christian world, it would seem that he himself did not care much for
religion; and, although he gave Boniface a letter of protection, he did
not help or encourage him greatly in his missionary labours. But
Boniface was resolved to carry on bravely what he believed to be God's
work. He preached in Hessia and Thuringia, and made many thousands of
converts. He built churches and monasteries, and brought over from
England large numbers of clergy to help him in preaching and in the
Christian training of his converts, for which purpose he also obtained
supplies of books from his own country. He founded bishoprics, and held
councils of clergy and laymen for the settlement of the Church's
affairs. Finding that the Hessians paid reverence to an old oak-tree,
which was sacred to one of their gods, he resolved to cut it down. The
heathens stood around, looking fiercely at him, cursing and threatening
him, and expecting to see him and his companions struck dead by the
vengeance of their gods. But when he had only just begun to attack the
oak we are told that a great wind suddenly arose, and struck it so that
it fell to the ground in four pieces. The people, seeing this, took it
for a sign from heaven, and consented to give up their old idolatry; and
Boniface turned the wood of the huge old oak to use by building a chapel
with it.
In some places Boniface found a strange mixture of heathen superstitions
with Christianity, and he did all that he could to root them out. He had
also much trouble with missionaries from Ireland, whose notions of
Christian doctrine and practice differed in some things from his; and
perhaps he did not always treat them with so much of wisdom and
gentleness as might have been wished. But after all he was right in
thinking that the sight of more than one kind of Christian religion,
different from each other and opposed to each other, must puzzle the
heathen and hinder their conversion; so that we can understand his
jealousy of those Irish missionaries, even if we cannot wholly approve
of it.
In reward of his labours and success, Boniface was made an archbishop by
Pope Gregory III. in 732; and, although at first he was not fixed in any
one place, he soon brought the German Church into such a state of order
that it seemed to be time for choosing some city as the seat of its
chief bishop, just as the chief bishop of England was settled at
Canterbury. Boniface himself wished to fix himself at Cologne; but at
that very time the bishop of Mentz got into trouble by killing a Saxon,
who, in a former war, had killed the bishop's father. Although it had
been quite a common thing in those rough days for bishops to take a part
in fighting, Boniface and his councils had made rules forbidding such
things, as unbecoming the ministers of peace; and the case of the bishop
of Mentz, coming just after those rules had been made, could not well be
passed over. The bishop, therefore, was obliged to give up his see; and
Mentz was chosen to be the place where Boniface should be fixed as
archbishop and primate of Germany, having under him five bishops, and
all the nations which had received the Gospel through his preaching.
When Boniface had grown old, he felt himself again drawn to Frisia,
where, as we have seen,[64] he had laboured in his early life; and at
the age of seventy-five he left his archbishopric, with all that invited
him to spend his last days there in quiet and honour, that he might once
more go forth as a missionary to the barbarous Frieslanders. Among them
he preached with much success; but on Whitsun eve, 755, while he was
expecting a great number of his converts to meet, that they might
receive confirmation from him, he and his companions were attacked by
an armed party of heathens, and the whole of the missionaries, fifty-two
in number, were martyred. But although Boniface thus ended his active
and useful life by martyrdom at the hands of those whom he wished to
bring into the way of salvation, his work was carried on by other
missionaries, and the conversion of the Frisians was completed within no
long time. Boniface's body was carried up the Rhine, and was buried at
Fulda, a monastery which he had founded amidst the loneliness of a vast
forest; and there the tomb of the "Apostle of the Germans" was visited
with reverence for centuries.
[64] Page 174.
CHAPTER IV.
PIPIN AND CHARLES THE GREAT.
A.D. 741-814.
PART I.
Towards the end of St. Boniface's life, a great change took place in the
government of the Franks. Pipin, who had succeeded his father, Charles
Martel, as mayor of the palace, grew tired of being called a servant
while he was really the master; and the French sent to ask the pope,
whose name was Zacharias, whether the man who really had the kingly
power ought not also to have the title of king. Zacharias, who had been
greatly obliged to the Franks for helping him against his enemies the
Lombards, answered them in the way that they seemed to wish and to
expect; and accordingly they chose Pipin as their king. And while,
according to the custom in such cases, Pipin was lifted up on a shield
and displayed to the people, while he was anointed and crowned, the last
of the poor old race of "do-nothing" kings was forced to let his long
hair be shorn until he looked like a monk, and was then shut up in a
monastery for the rest of his days.
Pipin afterwards went into Italy for the help of the pope, and bestowed
on the Roman Church a large tract of country which he had taken from the
Lombards. And this _donation_ (as it was called) or gift, was the first
land which the popes possessed in such a way that they were counted as
the sovereigns of it.
Pipin died in 768, and was succeeded by his son Charles, who is commonly
called Charlemagne (or Charles the Great). Under Charles the connexion
between the Franks and the Popes became still closer than before; and
when Charles put down the Lombard kingdom in Italy (A.D. 774), the popes
came in for part of the spoil.
But the most remarkable effect of this connexion was at a later time,
when Pope Leo III. had been attacked in a Roman street by some
conspirators, who tried to blind him and to cut out his tongue. But they
were not able to do their work thoroughly, and Leo recovered the use
both of his tongue and of his eyes. He then went into Germany to ask
Charles to help him against his enemies; and on his return to Rome he
was followed by Charles. There, on Christmas Day, A.D. 800, when a vast
congregation was assembled in the great church of St. Peter, the pope
suddenly placed a golden crown on the king's head, while the people
shouted, "Long life and victory to our emperor, Charles!" So now, after
a long time, an emperor was set up again in the West; and, although
these new emperors were German, they all styled themselves emperors of
the Romans. The popes afterwards pretended that they had a right to
bestow the empire as they liked, and that Leo had taken it from the
Greeks, and given it to the Germans. But this was quite untrue. Charles
seems to have made up his mind to be emperor, but he was very angry with
the pope for giving him the crown by surprise, instead of letting him
take his own way about it; and, if he had been left to himself, he would
have taken care to manage the matter so that the pope should not appear
to do anything more than to crown him in form after he had been chosen
by the Roman people.
PART II.
Charles was really a great man, although he had very serious faults, and
did many blameable things. He carried his conquests so far that the
Greeks had a proverb, "Have the Frank for thy friend, but not for thy
neighbour,"--meaning that the Franks were likely to try to make their
neighbours' lands their own. He thought it his duty to spread the
Christian faith by force, if it could not be done in a gentler way; and
thus, when he had conquered the Saxons in Germany, he made them be
baptized and pay tithes to the Church. But I need hardly say that
people's belief is not to be forced in this way; and many of those who
submitted to be baptized at the conqueror's command had no belief in the
Gospel, and no understanding of it. There is a story told of some who
came to be baptized over and over again for the sake of the white
dresses which were given to them at their baptism; and when one of these
had once got a dress which was coarser than usual, he declared that such
a sack was fitter for a swineherd than for a warrior, and that he would
have nothing to do with it or with the Christian religion. The Saxons
gave Charles a great deal of trouble, for his war with them lasted no
less than thirty-three years; and at one time he was so much provoked by
their frequent revolts that he had the cruelty to put 4,500 Saxon
prisoners to death.
But there are better things to be told of Charles. He took very great
pains to restore learning, which had long been in a state of decay. He
invited learned men from Italy and from England to settle in his
kingdom; and of all these, the most famous was a Northumbrian named
Alcuin. Alcuin gave him wise and good advice as to the best way of
treating the Saxons in order to bring them to the faith; and when
Charles was on his way to Rome, just before he was crowned as emperor,
Alcuin presented him with a large Latin Bible, written expressly for his
use; for we must remember that printing was not invented until more than
six hundred years later, so that all books in Charles's days were
_manuscript_ (or written by hand). Some people have believed that an
ancient manuscript Bible which is now to be seen in the great library at
Paris is the very one which Alcuin gave to Charles.
We are told that when Charles found himself at a loss for help in
educating his people, he said to Alcuin that he wished he might have
twelve such learned clerks as Jerome and Augustine; and that Alcuin
answered, "The Maker of heaven and earth has had only two such; and are
you so unreasonable as to wish for twelve?"
Alcuin was made master of the palace school, which moved about wherever
the court was, and in which the pupils were Charles's own children and
the sons of his chief nobles; and besides this, care was taken for the
education of the clergy and of the people in general. Charles himself
tried very hard to learn reading and writing when he was already in
middle age; but although he became able to read, and used to keep little
tablets under his pillow, in order that he might practise writing while
lying awake in bed, he never was able to write easily. Many curious
stories are told of the way in which he overlooked the service in his
chapel, where he desired that everything should be done as well as
possible. He would point with his finger or with his staff at any person
whom he wished to read in chapel, and when he wished any one to stop he
coughed; and it was expected that at these signals each person would
begin or stop at once, although it might be in the middle of a sentence.
During this time the question of images, which I have already
mentioned,[65] came up again in the Greek Church. A council was held in
787 at Nicaea, where the first general council had met in the time of
Constantine, more than four centuries and a half before;[66] and in this
second Nicene council images were approved of. In the West, the popes
were also for them; but they were condemned in a council at Frankfort,
and a book was written against them in the name of Charles. It is
supposed that this book was mostly the work of Alcuin, but that Charles,
besides allowing it to go forth with his name and authority, had really
himself had a share in making it.
[65] Page 170.
[66] See Part I., chap. XI.
Charles the Great died in the year 814. A short time before his death,
he sent for his son Lewis, and in the great church at Aix-la-Chapelle,
which was Charles's favourite place of abode, he took from the altar a
golden crown, and with his own hands placed it on the head of Lewis. By
this he meant to show that he did not believe the empire to depend on
the pope's will, but considered it to be given to himself and his
successors by God alone.
CHAPTER V.
DECAY OF CHARLES THE GREAT'S EMPIRE.
A.D. 814-887.
Lewis, the son of Charles the Great, was a prince who had very much of
good in him, so that he is commonly called the Pious. But he was of weak
character, and his reign was full of troubles, mostly caused by the
ambition of his own sons, who were helped by a strong party among the
clergy, and even by Pope Gregory the Fourth. At one time he was obliged
to undergo public penance, and some years later he was deprived of his
kingdom and empire, although these acts caused such a shock to the
feelings of men that he found friends who helped him to recover his
power. And after his death (A.D. 840) his children and grandchildren
continued to quarrel among themselves as long as any of them lived.
Besides these quarrels among their princes, the Franks were troubled at
this time by enemies of many kinds.
First of all I may mention the Northmen, who poured down by sea on the
coasts of the more civilized nations. These were the same who in our
English history are called Danes, with whom the great Alfred had a long
struggle, and who afterwards, under Canute, got possession of our
country for a time. They had light vessels,--_serpents_, as they were
called,--which could sail up rivers; and so they carried fire and sword
up every river whose opening invited them, making their way to places so
far off the sea as Mentz, on the Rhine; Treves, on the Moselle; Paris,
on the Seine; and even Auxerre, on the Yonne. They often sacked the
wealthy trading cities which lay open to their attacks; they sailed on
to Spain, plundered Lisbon, passed the Straits of Gibraltar, and laid
waste the coasts of Italy.
After a time they grew bolder, and would leave their vessels on the
rivers, while they struck across the country to plunder places which
were known to be wealthy. They made fortified camps, often on the
islands of the great rivers, and did all the mischief they could within
a large circle around them. These Northmen were bitter enemies of
Christianity, and many of them had lost their homes because they or
their fathers would not be converted at Charlemagne's bidding; so that
they had a special pleasure in turning their fury against churches and
monasteries. Wherever they came, the monks ran off and tried to save
themselves, leaving their wealth as a prey to the strangers. People were
afraid to till the land, lest these enemies should destroy the fruits of
their labours. Famines became common; wolves were allowed to multiply
and to prey without check; and such were the distress and fear caused by
the invaders, that a prayer for the deliverance "from the fury of the
Northmen" was added to the service-books of the Frankish church.
Another set of enemies were the Mahometan Saracens, who got possession
of the great islands of the Mediterranean and laid waste its coasts. It
is said that some of them sailed up the Tiber and carried off the altar
which covered the body of St. Peter. One party of Saracens settled on
the banks of a river about halfway between Rome and Naples; others in
the neighbourhood of Nice, and on that part of the Alps which is now
called the Great St. Bernard; and they robbed pilgrims and merchants,
whom they made to pay dearly for being let off with their lives.
Europe also suffered much from the Hungarians, a very rude, heathen
people, who about the year 900 poured into it from Asia. We are told
that they hardly looked human, that they lived like beasts, that they
ate men's flesh and drank their blood. They rode on small active horses,
so that the heavy-armed cavalry of the Franks could not overtake them;
and if they ran away before their enemies, they used to stop from time
to time, and let fly their arrows backwards. From the Elbe to the very
south of Italy these barbarians filled Europe with bloodshed and with
terror.
The Northmen at length made themselves so much feared in France, that
King Charles III., who was called the Simple, gave up to them, in 911, a
part of his kingdom, which from them got the name of Normandy. There
they settled down to a very different sort of life from their old habits
of piracy and plunder, so that before long the Normans were ahead of all
the other inhabitants of France; and from Normandy, as I need hardly
say, it was that William the Conqueror and his warriors came to gain
possession of England.
The princes of Charles the Great's family, by their quarrels, broke up
his empire altogether; and nobody had anything like the power of an
emperor until Otho I., who became king of Germany in 936, and was
crowned emperor at Rome in 962.
CHAPTER VI.
STATE OF THE PAPACY.
A.D. 891-1046.
All this time the papacy was in a very sad condition. Popes were set up
and put down continually, and some of them were put to death by their
enemies. The body of one pope named Formosus, after it had been some
years in the grave, was taken up by order of one of his successors
(Stephen VI.), was dressed out in the full robes of office, and placed
in the papal chair; and then the dead pope was tried and condemned for
some offence against the laws of the Church. It was declared that the
clergy whom he had ordained were not to be reckoned as clergy; his
corpse was stripped of the papal robes; the fingers which he had been
accustomed to raise in blessing were cut off; and the body, after having
been dragged about the city, was thrown into the Tiber (A.D. 896).
Otho the Great, who has been mentioned as emperor, turned out a young
pope, John XII., who was charged with all sorts of bad conduct (A.D.
963); and that emperor's grandson, Otho III., put in two popes, one
after another (A.D. 996, 999). The second of these popes was a very
learned and clever Frenchman, named Gerbert, who as pope took the name
of Sylvester II. He had studied under the Arabs in Spain (for in some
kinds of learning the Arabs were then far beyond the Christians); and it
was he who first taught Christians to use the Arabic figures (such as 1,
2, and 3) instead of the Roman letters or figures (such as I., II., and
III.). He also made a famous clock; and on account of his skill in such
things people supposed him to be a sorcerer, and told strange stories
about him. Thus it is said that he made a brazen head, which answered
"Yes" and "No" to questions. Gerbert asked his head where he should
die, and supposed from the answer that it was to be in the city of
Jerusalem. But one day as he was at service in one of the Roman churches
which is called "Holy Cross in Jerusalem," he was taken very ill; and
then he understood that that church was the Jerusalem in which he was to
die. We need not believe such stories; but yet it is well to know about
them, because they show what people were disposed to believe in the time
when the stories were made.
The troubles of the papacy continued, and at one time there were no
fewer than three popes, each of whom had one of the three chief churches
of Rome, and gave himself out for the only true pope. But this state of
things was such a scandal that the emperor, Henry III., was invited from
Germany to put an end to it, and for this purpose he held a council at
Sutri, not far from Rome, in 1046. Two of the popes were set aside, and
the third, Gregory VI., who was the best of the three, was drawn to
confess that he had given money to get his office, because he wished to
use the power of the papacy to bring about some kind of reform. But on
this he was told that he had been guilty of simony--a sin which takes
its name from Simon the sorcerer, in the Acts of the Apostles (ch.
viii.), and which means the buying of spiritual things with money. This
had never struck Gregory before; but when told of it by the council he
had no choice but to lay aside his papal robes, and the emperor put one
of his own German bishops into the papacy.
CHAPTER VII.
MISSIONS OF THE NINTH AND TENTH CENTURIES.
It will be pleasanter to tell you something about the missions of those
times; for a great deal of missionary work was then carried on.
(1.) The Bulgarians, who had come from Asia in the end of the seventh
century, and had settled in the country which still takes its name from
them, were converted by missionaries of the Greek Church. It is said
that, when some beginning of the work had been made, and the king
himself had been baptized by the patriarch of Constantinople (A.D. 861),
the king asked the Greek emperor to send him a painter to adorn the
walls of his palace; and that a monk named Methodius was sent
accordingly, for in those times monks were the only persons who
practised such arts as painting. The king desired him to paint a hall in
the palace with subjects of a terrible kind, by which he meant that the
pictures should be taken from the perils of hunting. But, instead of
such subjects, Methodius painted the last judgment, as being the most
terrible of all things; and the king, on seeing the picture of hell with
its torments, and being told that such would be the future place of the
heathen, was so terrified that he gave up the idols which he had kept
until then, and that many of his subjects were also moved to seek
admission into the Church.
Although the conversion of Bulgaria had been the work of Greek
missionaries, the popes afterwards sent some of their clergy into the
country, and claimed it as belonging to them; and this was one of the
chief causes why the Greek and the Latin churches separated from each
other, so that they have never since been really reconciled.
(2.) It is not certain whether the painter Methodius was the same with a
monk of that name, who, with his brother, named Cyril, brought about the
conversion of Moravia (A.D. 863). These missionaries went about their
work in a different way from what was common; for it had been usual for
the Greek clergy to use the Greek language, and for the Western clergy
to use the Latin, in their church-service and in other things relating
to religion; but instead of this, Cyril and Methodius learnt the
language of the country, and translated the church-services, with parts
of the holy Scriptures, into it, so that all might be understood by the
natives. In Moravia, too, there was a quarrel between the Greek and the
Latin clergy; but, although the popes usually insisted that the services
of the Church should be either in Latin or in Greek (because these were
two of the languages which were written over the Saviour's cross), they
were so much pleased with the success of Cyril and Methodius, that they
allowed the service of the Moravian Church to be still in the language
of the country.
(3.) Soon after the conversion of the Moravians, the duke of Bohemia
paid a visit to their king, Swatopluk, who received him with great
honour, but at dinner set him and his followers to sit on the floor, as
being heathens. Methodius, who was at the king's table, spoke to the
duke, and said that he was sorry to see so great a prince obliged to
feed as if he were a swineherd. "What should I gain by becoming a
Christian?" he replied; and when Methodius told him that the change
would raise him above all kings and princes, he and his thirty followers
were baptized.
A story of the same kind is told as to the conversion of the
Carinthians, which was brought about in the end of the eighth century by
a missionary named Ingo, who asked Christian slaves to eat at his own
table, while he caused food to be set outside the door for their heathen
masters, as if they had been dogs. This led the Carinthian nobles to ask
questions; and in consequence of what they heard they were baptized, and
their example was followed by their people generally.
The second bishop of Prague, the chief city of Bohemia, Adalbert, is
famous as having gone on a mission to the heathens of Prussia, by whom
he was martyred on the shore of the Frische Haff in 997.
(4.) In the north of Germany, in Denmark, and in Sweden, Anskar, who had
been a monk at Corbey, on the Weser, laboured for thirty-nine years with
earnest devotion and with great success (A.D. 826-865). In addition to
preaching the Gospel of salvation, he did much in such charitable works
as the building of hospitals and the redemption of captives; and he
persuaded the chief men of the country north of the Elbe to give up
their trade in slaves, which had been a source of great profit to them,
but which Anskar taught them to regard as contrary to the Christian
religion. Anskar was made archbishop of Hamburg and Bremen, and is
styled "The Apostle of the North." But he had to suffer many dangers and
reverses in his endeavours to do good. At one time, when Hamburg was
burnt by the Northmen, he lost his church, his monastery, his library,
and other property; but he only said, with the patriarch Job, "The Lord
gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord!"
Then he set to work again, without being discouraged by what had
befallen him, and he even made a friend of the heathen king who had led
the attack on Hamburg. Anskar died in the year 865. It is told that when
some of his friends were talking of miracles which he was supposed to
have done, he said, "If I were worthy in my Lord's sight, I would ask of
Him to grant me one miracle--that He would make me a good man!"
(5.) The Russians were visited by missionaries from Greece, from Rome,
and from Germany, so that for a time they wavered between the different
forms of the Christian religion which were offered to them; but at
length they decided for the Greek Church. When their great prince (who,
at his baptism, took the name of Basil) had been converted (A.D. 988) he
ordered that the idol of the chief god who had been worshipped by the
Russians should be dragged at a horse's tail through the streets of the
capital, Kieff, and should be thrown into the river Dnieper. Many of the
people burst into tears at the sight; but when they were told that the
prince wished them to be baptized, they said that a change of religion
must be good if their prince recommended it; and they were baptized in
great numbers. "Some," we are told, "stood in the water up to their
necks, others up to their breasts, holding their young children in their
arms; and the priests read the prayers from the bank of the river,
naming at once whole companies by the same name."
(6.) I might give an account of the spreading of the Gospel in Poland,
Hungary, and other countries; but let us keep ourselves to the north of
Europe. Although Anskar had given up his whole life to missionary work
among the nations near the Baltic Sea, there was still much to be done,
and sometimes conversion was carried on in ways which to us seem very
strange. As an instance of this, I may give some account of a Norwegian
king named Olave, the son of Tryggve.
Olave was at first a heathen, and had long been a famous sea-rover, when
he was converted and baptized in one of the Scilly islands (A.D. 994).
He took up his new religion with a great desire to spread it among his
people, and he went about from one part of Norway to another, everywhere
destroying temples and idols, and requiring the people to be baptized
whether they were willing or not. At one place he found eighty heathens,
who were supposed to be wizards. He first tried to convert them in the
morning when they were sober, and again in the evening when they were
enjoying themselves over their horns of ale; and as he could not
persuade them, whether they were sober or drunk, he burnt their temple
over their heads. All the eighty perished except one, who made his
escape; and this man afterwards fell into the king's hands, and was
thrown into the sea.
At another time, Olave fell in with a young man named Endrid, who agreed
to become a Christian if any one whom the king might appoint should beat
him in diving, in archery, and in sword-play. Olave himself undertook
the match, and got the better of Endrid in all the trials; and then
Endrid gave in, and allowed himself to be converted and baptized. These
were strange ways of spreading the Gospel; but they seem to have had
their effect on the rough men of the North.
At last, Olave was attacked by some of his heathen neighbours, and was
beaten in a great sea-fight (A.D. 1000). It was generally believed that
he had perished in the sea; but there is a story of a Norwegian pilgrim
who, nearly fifty years later, lost his way among the sands of Egypt,
and lighted on a lonely monastery, with an old man of his own country as
its abbot. The abbot put many questions to him, and asked him to carry
home a girdle and a sword, and to give them with a message to a warrior
who had fought bravely beside King Olave in his last battle; and on
receiving them the old warrior was assured that the Egyptian abbot could
be no other than his royal master, who had been so long supposed to be
dead.
Somewhat later than Olave the son of Tryggve (A.D. 1015) Norway had
another king Olave, who was very zealous for the spreading of the Gospel
among his people, and, like the elder Olave, was willing to do so by
force if he could not manage the matter otherwise. On his visiting a
place called Dalen, a bishop named Grimkil, who accompanied him, set
forth the Christian doctrine; but the heathens answered that their own
god was better than the God of the Christians, because he could be seen.
The king spent the greater part of the night in prayer, and next morning
at daybreak the idol of the northern god Thor was brought forward by his
worshippers. Olave pointed to the rising sun, as being a witness to the
glory of its Maker; and, while the heathens were gazing on its
brightness, a tall soldier, to whom the king had given his orders
beforehand, lifted up his club and dashed the idol to pieces. A swarm of
loathsome creatures, which had lived within the idol's huge body, and
had fattened on the food and drink which were offered to it, rushed
forth, as in the case of the image of Serapis, hundreds of years
before;[67] whereupon the men of Dalen were convinced of the falsehood
of their old religion, and consented to be baptized. King Olave was at
length killed in battle against his heathen subjects (A.D. 1030), and
his memory is regarded as that of a saint.
[67] See Part I., chap. XVI.
(7.) From Norway the Gospel made its way to the Norwegian settlements in
Iceland, and even in Greenland, where it long flourished, until, in the
middle of the fifteenth century, ice gathered on the shores so as to
make it impossible to land on them. About the same time a great plague,
which was called the Black Death, carried off a large part of the
settlers, and the rest were so few and so weak that they were easily
killed by the natives.
It seems to be certain that some of the Norwegians from Greenland
discovered a part of the American continent, although no traces of them
remained there when the country was again discovered by Europeans,
hundreds of years later.
CHAPTER VIII.
POPE GREGORY THE SEVENTH.
PART I.
In the times of which I have been lately speaking, the power of the
popes had grown far beyond what it was in the days of Gregory the Great.
I have told you Gregory was very much displeased because a patriarch of
Constantinople had styled himself _Universal Bishop_.[68] But since that
time the popes had taken to calling themselves by this very title, and
they meant a great deal more by it than the patriarchs of Constantinople
had meant; for people in the East are fond of big words, so that, when a
patriarch called himself _Universal Bishop_, he did not mean anything in
particular, but merely to give himself a title which would sound
grandly. And thus, although he claimed to be universal, he would have
allowed the bishops of Rome to be universal too. But when the popes
called themselves _Universal Bishops_, they meant that they were bishops
of the whole church, and that all other bishops were under them.
[68] Part I., p. 159.
They had friends, too, who were ready to say anything to raise their
power and greatness. Thus, about the year 800, when the popes had begun
to get some land of their own, through the gifts of Pipin and
Charlemagne,[69] a story was got up that the first Christian emperor,
Constantine, when he built his city of Constantinople, and went to live
in the East, made over Rome to the pope, and gave him also all Italy,
with other countries of the West, and the right of wearing a golden
crown. And this story of Constantine's gift (or _donation_, as it was
called), although it was quite false, was commonly believed in those
days of ignorance.
[69] See p. 178.
About fifty years later another monstrous falsehood was put forth, which
helped the popes greatly. Somebody, who took the name of Isidore, a
famous Spanish bishop who had been dead more than two hundred years,
made a collection of Church law and of popes' letters; and he mixed up
with the true letters a quantity which he had himself forged, but which
pretended to have been written by bishops of Rome from the very time of
the Apostles. And in these letters it was made to appear that the pope
had been appointed by our Lord Himself to be head of the whole Church,
and to govern it as he liked; and that the popes had always used this
power from the beginning. This collection of laws is known by the name
of the _False Decretals_; but nobody in those times had any notion that
they were false, and so they were believed by every one, and the pope
got all that they claimed for him.
But in course of time the popes would not be contented even with this.
In former ages nobody could be made pope without the emperor's consent,
and we have seen how Otho the Great, his grandson, Otho III., and
afterwards Henry III., had thought that they might call popes to account
for their conduct; how these emperors brought some popes before councils
for trial, and turned them out of their office when they misbehaved.[70]
But just after Henry III., as we have read, had got rid of three popes
at once, a great change began, which was meant to set the popes above
the emperors. The chief mover in this change was Hildebrand, who is said
to have been the son of a carpenter in a little Tuscan town, and was
born between the years 1010 and 1020.
[70] Pp. 184, 185.
PART II.
Hildebrand became a monk of the strictest kind, and soon showed a
wonderful power of swaying the minds of other men. Thus, when a German
named Bruno, bishop of Toul, had been chosen as pope by Henry III., to
whom he was related, and as he was on his way to Rome that he might take
possession of his office, his thoughts were entirely changed by some
talk with Hildebrand, whom he happened to meet. Hildebrand told him that
popes, instead of being appointed by emperors, ought to be freely chosen
by the Roman clergy and people; and thereupon Bruno, putting off his
fine robes, went on to Rome in company with Hildebrand, whose lessons he
listened to all the way, so that he took up the monk's notions as to all
matters which concerned the Church. On arriving at Rome, he told the
Romans that he did not consider himself to be pope on account of the
emperor's favour, but that if they should think fit to choose him he was
willing to be pope. On this he was elected by them with great joy, and
took the name of Leo IX. (A.D. 1048). But, although Leo was called pope,
it was Hildebrand who really took the management of everything.
When Leo died (A.D. 1054), the Romans wished to put Hildebrand into his
place; but he did not yet feel himself ready to take the papacy, and
instead of this he contrived to get one after another of his party
elected, until at length, after having really directed everything for no
less than five-and-twenty years, and under the names of five popes in
succession, he allowed himself to be chosen in 1073, and styled himself
Gregory VII.
The empire was then in a very sad state. Henry III. had died in 1056,
leaving a boy less than six years old to succeed him; and this poor boy,
who became Henry IV., was very badly used by those who were about him.
One day, as he was on an island in the river Rhine, Hanno, archbishop of
Cologne, gave him such an account of a beautiful new boat which had been
built for the archbishop, that the young prince naturally wished to see
it; and as soon as he was safe on board, Hanno carried him off to
Cologne, away from his mother, the empress Agnes. Thus the poor young
Henry was in the hands of people who meant no good by him; and, although
he was naturally a bright, clever, amiable lad, they did what they could
to spoil him, and to make him unfit for his office, by educating him
badly, and by throwing in his way temptations to which he was only too
ready to yield. And when they had done this, and he had made himself
hated by many of his people on account of his misbehaviour, the very
persons who had done the most to cause his faults took advantage of
them, and tried to get rid of him as king of Germany and emperor. In the
meantime Hildebrand (or Gregory, as we must now call him) and his
friends had been well pleased to look on the troubles of Germany; for
they hoped to turn the discontent of the Germans to their own purpose.
Gregory had higher notions as to the papacy than any one who had gone
before him. He thought that all power of every kind belonged to the
pope; that kings had their authority from him; that all kingdoms were
held under him as the chief lord; that popes were as much greater than
kings or emperors as the sun is greater than the moon; that popes could
make or unmake kings just as they pleased; and although he had asked the
emperor to confirm his election, as had been usual, he was resolved that
such a thing should never again be asked of an emperor by any pope in
the time to come.
PART III.