CHAPTER VIII.

_THE MONKS AND THEIR WAYS._

ORIGIN AND PROGRESS OF MONACHISM.

As early as the second century men and women began to feel the charm of a

peaceful, contemplative life, wholly severed from the selfish, sensual,

and brutish ways of large communities. Hence they were attracted to

deserts and secluded places, and to seek happiness by living entirely

alone. It is thought this turn of religious life was first developed in

Egypt. About 378 St. Basil, afterwards Bishop of Cæsarea, introduced

monachism into Asia Minor, and thence into the East, and he enjoined

poverty, obedience, chastity, and self-mortification as the great objects

to be kept in view. A peculiar habit was found to answer best to this kind

of life. Both monks and nuns chose plain coarse clothes and girdles. The

monks went barelegged, and their hair was more or less shaven. In 529 St.

Benedict, an Italian of noble birth, instituted a code of conduct for his

monastery on Monte Cassino, a hill between Rome and Naples, and added

manual labour for seven hours a day. St. Augustine, the apostle to the

Anglo-Saxons, about 596, belonged to the Benedictine order, and so did St.

Dunstan, about 930. The habit of the Benedictines consisted of a white

woollen cassock, and over that an ample black gown and a black hood. The

female houses had also a white under-garment, a black gown and black veil,

with a white wimple round the face and neck. The monks of Clugny, in

Burgundy, founded in 927, abandoned manual labour and devoted themselves

more to contemplative studies. The Clugniacs, the Carthusians, the

Cistercians, and the orders of Camaldoli and Grandmont, all sprang from

the Benedictine order, each having their own variations. St. Bernard

joined the Cistercians in 1113. The Augustinians were a milder order than

the Benedictines, and were divided into canons secular and canons

regular. A branch of the Augustinians were the military orders, or Knights

of the Temple, who arose about 1118, after the experience of the

Crusaders, and devoted themselves to escorting pilgrims to Jerusalem and

the holy places.

THE MIRACLES AND WORSHIP OF THE MONKS.

Gibbon sums up his account of the monks as follows: "The monastic saints,

who excite only the contempt and pity of a philosopher, were respected and

almost adored by the prince and people. The Christian world fell prostrate

before their shrines, and the miracles ascribed to their relics exceeded

at least in number and duration the spiritual exploits of their lives. But

the golden legend of their lives was greatly embellished by the artful

credulity of their interested brethren; and a believing age was easily

persuaded that the slightest caprice of an Egyptian or a Syrian monk had

been sufficient to interrupt the eternal laws of the universe. The

favourites of Heaven were accustomed to cure inveterate diseases with a

touch, a word, or a distant message, and to expel the most obstinate

demons from the souls or bodies which they possessed. They familiarly or

imperiously commanded the lions and serpents of the desert, infused

vegetation into a sapless trunk, suspended iron on the surface of the

water, passed the Nile on the back of a crocodile, and refreshed

themselves in a fiery furnace. These extravagant tales, which display the

fiction without the genius of poetry, have seriously affected the reason,

the faith, and the morals of the Christians. Their credulity debased and

vitiated the faculties of the mind; they corrupted the evidence of

history, and superstition gradually extinguished the hostile light of

philosophy and science. Every mode of religious worship which had been

practised by the saints, every mysterious doctrine which they believed was

fortified by the sanction of Divine revelation, and all the manly virtues,

were oppressed by the servile and pusillanimous reign of the monks."

PHILOSOPHY OF MONKERY.

Dr. Johnson said: "I do not wonder that, where the monastic life is

permitted, every order finds votaries and every monastery inhabitants. Men

will submit to any rule by which they will be exempted from the tyranny of

caprice and of chance. They are glad to supply by external authority their

own want of constancy and resolution, and court the government of others,

when long experience has convinced them of their own inability to govern

themselves."

MOTIVES FOR BECOMING MONKS.

It would be vain to analyse the many modes by which men were induced to

become monks. It has been remarked that young men who became monks out of

penitence for their sins were most distinguished for zeal. Men of the

first rank, struck by the force of momentary impressions or by sudden

reverses of fortune, reminded of the uncertainty of worldly goods, the

nearness of death, the vanity of earthly glory, would go into solitude as

anchorites or enter a monastery. About 1090 Count Ebrard, of Breteuil, a

youth of family and fortune, suddenly forsook all his pleasures, and went

about earning his bread as an itinerant charcoal burner, and then for the

first time found true peace of mind. Another noble youth, named Simon,

about the same time was so struck by the transitoriness of wealth on

seeing his father's dead body, that he also became a monk. Many were

driven by sickness, poverty, shame, and remorse to do likewise. Those

driven into monasteries by the fear of death were said soon to lose their

firmness of purpose. Once St. Bernard, when visiting Count Theobald of

Champagne, and seeing a crowd following a robber who was about to be

executed, begged of the count to give up to him the criminal to be

reformed, and Bernard converted him into an exemplary monk, who lived such

for thirty years thereafter. Another monk, Bernard, who lived on a desert

island near Jersey, made such an impression on a band of pirates, that

when afterwards they were on the point of shipwreck and in fear of sudden

death, they remembered the good advice of the hermit, and repented,

returned, and joined him in holy exercises for the rest of their days.

Anselm of Canterbury, when discoursing on the virtues of monks and the

temptations of worldly life, said, "It was true that it was not monks only

who are saved. Still, it may be asked, Which of the two attains salvation

in the most certain and noble way--he who seeks to love God alone, or he

who seeks to love God and the world too at the same time? Was it rational,

when danger is on every side, to choose to remain where the danger is

greatest?"

THE WEAK SIDE OF MONACHISM.

Though there were many good points in monachism, the Fathers were not slow

to point out its defects. Chrysostom lamented that Christian virtue which

ought to dwell in cities had fled into deserts. Vigilantius observed, "If

all Christian men shut themselves up in cloisters and withdrew into

deserts, who shall preach the Gospel and call sinners to repentance?"

There was one Roman monk named Jovinian, sometimes called a prototype of

Luther, and obviously before his time, who was uncompromising in his

denunciations of the whole system. "There is," he said, "one and the same

Divine life springing from fellowship with the Redeemer, in which all

genuine Christians share, and a higher stage cannot exist." But in spite

of all cavils the system held its ground down to the time of Luther. As

Neander remarks: "The more the monks occupied themselves with their

temptations, instead of looking from themselves to the Lord, so much the

more those temptations increased, many of which they could easily have

overcome if they had been willing to forget themselves in an activity of a

calling that would have laid under requisition all the powers of their

nature; on which account they felt the need of occupying by manual labour,

such as basket-making and other handicrafts, the senses and lower powers

of their nature."

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

St. Benedict was born in 480, and gave a fresh impetus to monkish

communities and devised better laws. After some experience in other

places, he selected one of the heights of the Apennines for the great

capital of the monastery orders--namely, Monte Cassino. He combined

agriculture and woodcutting with exercises of piety, and introduced a more

severe system of discipline. Many young nobles flocked to take up their

abode. They acted as missionaries and almsmen to the poor. After fourteen

years' presiding over the monastery, he had a last interview with his

sister Scholastica, whom he survived forty days. A violent fever seized

him, and he ordered his sister's tomb to be opened for him, and himself to

be carried to the chapel of John the Baptist. Then, supported by his

disciples, he insisted on standing and receiving the holy _viaticum_, and

extending his arms and uttering his prayers, he died standing like a

sentinel at his post. His influence lasted a thousand years; his relics

were carefully guarded and taken to France. In the eleventh century one of

his bones was sent from France to Monte Cassino, and there received with

great enthusiasm.

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

Though Benedict was a great reformer of the monks by introducing

systematic labour into the spiritual life, and though his new order of

things began with so fair a promise and had done wonders, yet the monks

had by degrees yielded to the treacherous influences of fame, ease, and

wealth. The Benedictine monasteries were filled with scholars, whose

devotion was directed more to the preservation of classic texts than the

performance of the Divine office; with luxurious monks, strangers to

fasting and unused to vigils, revelling in the good things of life, and in

their rich revenues; then abbots were lords and rulers living in princely

state, and riding out on richly caparisoned palfreys. The old humility of

the monastic life was lost; they took part in state intrigues, dictated

laws to kings, shook the thrones of monarchs who had offended them, and

began to aspire after worldly power and dominion. At last St. Francis

arose in 1180, the founder of the Friars Minors, who discovered that there

was nothing in the world really great and thoroughly satisfactory except

poverty and self-humiliation, accompanied with efficient street preaching.

St. Dominic also about the same time introduced mendicancy, or the absence

of wealth, as part of the system of life. Yet in course of time both these

last systems broke down, long before the period of the Reformation.

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

When the Irish abbot Columban (who died 615) left the monastery of Bangor,

where he had been reared, he became at the age of thirty consumed with a

zeal to found a monastery of his own; and having obtained his abbot's

permission, he went off with twelve youths to France, and they betook

themselves to an immense wilderness in Vosges, and chose the ruins of an

old castle as a settlement. As the monks were obliged to till the

adjoining land, they at first suffered greatly from hunger. At one time

the monks had nothing to eat but the bark of trees and wild herbs; and

what made matters worse, one of their number was sick, and the others

could do nothing to relieve him. Three days they spent in prayer, seeking

relief for their sick brother, when suddenly they saw a man standing at

the door of the convent, whose horses were laden with sacks of provisions.

The man told them that he had felt an indescribable impulse to go and

assist with his means those who from love to Christ endured such

privations in the wilderness. Another time they had for nine days suffered

similar want, when the heart of another abbot moved him to send

provisions. When a foreign priest once visited them and expressed surprise

at their cheerfulness amid such trials, Columban only said, "If people

faithfully serve their Creator, they will suffer no want; for in the

Psalms it is said, 'I have never seen the righteous forsaken, nor his seed

begging bread.' He who could satisfy five thousand men with five loaves

can easily fill our barns with meal."

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

When the Abbot Ebrolf settled with his monks in the seventh century in a

thick forest inhabited by wild beasts and robbers, one of the robbers,

struck with awe at the simplicity of the newcomers, said to them, "You

have not chosen a suitable place for yourselves. The inhabitants of this

forest live by robbery, and can endure nobody near them who seeks to

support himself by the labour of his hands. This is no place for you." The

monk answered, "Know, my brother, that the Lord is with us; and since we

are under His protection, we fear not the threatenings of men who can kill

the body, but cannot kill the soul. Know that He will supply His servants

abundantly with food even in a desert. And thou also, my friend, mayst be

a partaker of these riches, if thou wilt renounce thy evil vocation and

vow to serve the true and living God. Despair not of God's goodness on

account of the greatness of thy sins, but be assured the eyes of the Lord

are upon the righteous, and His ears are open to their cry, and the face

of the Lord is against them that do evil, to cut off the remembrance of

them from the earth." Upon this the robber departed, meditating upon these

words, which to him were so extraordinary. The next morning he hastened

back to the monks, carrying to the abbot a present, such as his poverty

could furnish, of three coarse loaves and a honeycomb, and professing his

willingness to join them and become a monk. After his example other

robbers were from time to time persuaded either to become monks or to

labour honestly for a livelihood with their own hands.

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

The monk Paul Diaconus was at Court in the time of King Rutchis (A.D.

744-749), and relates having himself seen that king after a banquet show

the famous goblet which Albuin had made of the skull of Cummund, King of

the Gepidi. As is known, Albuin had killed King Cummund in battle, and

afterwards married his daughter Rosamund, and used on solemn occasions to

drink out of his skull, which had been made into a cup. One day Albuin

commanded that the goblet should be handed to the Queen, calling upon her

to drink gaily with her father. This horrible outrage was at a later time

cruelly avenged by Rosamund. Paul Diaconus, on seeing the goblet and

remembering this brutal act of a former king, made this entry in his

memoirs: "Lest this should seem incredible to any, take note that I speak

the truth in Christ, for indeed I saw on a certain feast day King Rutchis

holding this cup in his hand and showing it to his guests."

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

Amid the growing demoralisation of monasteries, Benedict of Aniane, whose

original name was Witïza, when a boy, was cup-bearer in the Court of

Pepin, and continued with Charlemagne. In returning from Rome in 774, in

the retinue of that king, he narrowly escaped drowning in attempting to

save his brother. This turned his thoughts towards joining a monastery,

which he soon entered, and at once excelled in all the austerities. He

macerated his body by excessive fasting, clothed himself with rags, which

soon swarmed with vermin, slept little and on the bare ground, never

bathed, courted derision and insult like a madman, and expressed his fear

of hell in loud outcries. On the death of his abbot Benedict became his

successor, and built a little hermitage on the bank of the river Aniane.

Some monks tried to live with him, but found the regimen too severe;

others succeeded better. He and his monks resolved to build a monastery

between them. They had no oxen to drag the materials, and they did the

work themselves. The walls were of wood, the roof thatched with straw, the

vestments were coarse, the vessels of wood, but all of their own making.

They lived chiefly on bread and water, sometimes a little milk, and on

Sundays a scanty allowance of wine. Yet it was noticed that they soon

tended to greater luxury and splendour, for in 782 the wooden monastery

was replaced by one more solid--marble and decorations and costly vessels.

Charlemagne himself contributed, and exempted the building from all taxes;

and he appointed Benedict and two others to collect and recast the rules

of monasteries and nunneries. Benedict to the last helped to plough and

dig and reap, and died in 821, aged seventy.

IMPROVEMENTS IN MONASTICISM (A.D. 780).

When Benedict, Abbot of Aniane, in Languedoc, born in 750, left the Court

in early life, disgusted with its ways and bent on monastic labours,

thought of founding a new monastery, he found the system then in vogue

far too lax. He taught his monks to accustom themselves to earn a living

by their own industry, and then do the utmost good with their earnings.

When starving crowds came to his new settlement, he taught them to join in

storing all the grain that could be spared till next harvest, and each

made his portion support himself and supply a surplus, as a boon to the

needy ones outside. The monastery was also turned into an industrial

centre for library work. Louis the Pious thought so well of these

improvements in discipline, that he drew up a code in 817 on the same

principles, and circulated it throughout the Frankish Empire. Benedict

used to say, "If it seem to you impossible to observe many of the

commandments, then try only this one little commandment: 'Depart from evil

and learn to do good.'"

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

Paul Diaconus was for some time a monk at Monte Cassino, on the banks of

the Moselle, and was sent to the Court of Charlemagne to use influence to

obtain a pardon for his brother, then in banishment. The King treated him

well, and Paul thus wrote to Theodomar, the abbot: "Although my body is

separated by a vast distance, yet my affection for you can never suffer

any diminution, nor can I hope to express in a letter, and within the

brief limit of these lines, how constantly and profoundly I am moved by

the thought of your affection and that of my elders and brethren. For when

I consider the leisure, filled with sacred occupations, the delectable

refuge of my dwelling, your pious and holy dispositions--when I think of

the holy band of so many soldiers of Christ, zealous in all Divine

offices, and the shining examples of special excellence in particular

brethren, and the sweet converse we had on the perfections of our

celestial home--I tremble, I gaze, I languish, I cannot restrain my tears,

and my breast is rent with many sighs. I am living amongst Catholics and

followers of Christian worship. I am well received. All show me abundant

kindness for the love of our Father Benedict and for the sake of your own

merits. But compared to your convent, this palace is a prison in contrast

to the great serenity of your life; my life here seems only a continual

storm. I am only detained in this country by the weakness of my body, but

my whole soul goes out to you. Now I seem to be in the midst of your

Divine songs, now to be sitting with you in the refectory, where the

reading is even more satisfying than the bodily food. Now, methinks, I am

watching each at his own special work, now inquiring into the health of

the aged and sick, now wearing with my feet the tombs of the saints, who

are dear to me as heaven itself."

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

Fuller, in his "Church History," says that about 760 the bill of fare of

monks was bettered generally in England, and more liberally indulged in

their diet. It was first occasioned when Ceolwolphus, formerly King of

Northumberland, but then a monk in the convent of Lindisfarne, or Holy

Island, gave leave to that convent to drink ale and wine, anciently

confined by Aidan, their first founder, to milk and water. Let others

dispute whether Ceolwolphus thus dispensed with them by his new abbatical

or old regal power, which he so resigned that in some cases he might

resume it, especially to be king in his own convent. And indeed the cold,

raw, and bleak situation of that place, with many bitter blasts from the

sea and no shelter on the land, speaks itself to each inhabitant there.

This local privilege, first justly indulged to the monks of Lindisfarne,

was about this time extended to all the monasteries in England, whose

primitive over-austerity in abstinence was turned now into a

self-sufficiency that soon improved into plenty, that quickly depraved

into riot, and that at last occasioned their ruin.

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

The monasteries were growing rich in the time of Charlemagne, and he saw

many weak points in the system. He thought many made false professions of

withdrawing from the world and entering as monks merely to escape military

service. He therefore made an order in 805 that those who forsake the

world shall be obliged to live strictly as canons or monks according to

rule. In 811 the King censured the abbots as caring only to swell the

number of their monks, and to obtain good chanters and readers without

caring about their morals. He asked sarcastically how the monks and clergy

understood the text against entangling themselves with worldly affairs:

whether those could be said to have forsaken the world who were

incessantly striving to increase their possessions by all sorts of

means--who used the hopes of heaven and the terrors of hell, the names of

God and the saints, to extort gifts not only from the rich, but from the

poor and ignorant, and by diverting property from the lawful heirs drive

these to theft and robbery. "How," asked the King, "can they be said to

have forsaken the world who suborn perjury in order to acquire what they

covet, who keep what secular property they can get and surround themselves

with bands of armed men?" In that age abbots as well as bishops were

addicted to war, as well as hunting and hawking, to games of chance, and

to the society of minstrels and jesters. Gross immorality was winked at

among the recluses of both sexes. That state of things led to the

appearance of St. Benedict, a renowned reformer of monkish life (_ante_,

p. 212).

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

Duke William had well served Charlemagne and often routed the infidels,

but at last in 801 he resolved to retire from the world and be a monk in a

desert in the Cevennes. But he must first obtain the consent of his King,

and in seeking an interview he began: "My lord, you know how I have loved

you more than my life and the light of day. I have followed you in the

field and been always ready to lay down my life for you. Now I ask leave

to become a soldier of the Eternal King. I have long vowed to retire to a

monastery and renounce the world." At these words Charlemagne's eyes

overflowed with tears, and he said, "My Lord William, these are hard and

bitter words, which have wounded my heart; nevertheless, since it is

devout and reasonable, I will not oppose. If you had preferred the service

of any other mortal king, I might have felt it an injustice; but as you

wish to be a soldier of the King of angels, I consent. Only you must take

with you some gift as a token and memorial of our friendship." With these

words the King fell on his neck and wept bitter tears. William thereafter

returned to Aquitaine; and visiting the monastery of St. Julian, at

Brives, he deposited his arms as an offering to God. His buckler was long

shown there as a priceless possession, and its gigantic form and strength

long attracted all eyes. William then took the humble habit, and entered

the monastery of Gelon, comporting himself as the lowliest of the

brethren. He might be seen at harvest among the reapers, mounted on an

ass, carrying a vessel of wine, from which he refreshed each reaper. Thus

he who had so often given battle to the Saracens, and won renown among the

warriors of his age, gave himself up entirely to humble occupations and

works of charity.

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

When Alcuin, a monk, who died in 804, was called to the Court of

Charlemagne, he gave vent to his feelings thus: "O my cell, sweet and

well-beloved home, adieu for ever! I shall see no more the woods that

surround thee with their interlacing branches and flowery verdure, nor thy

fields full of wholesome and aromatic herbs, nor thy streams of fish, nor

thy orchards, nor thy gardens where the lily mingles with the rose. I

shall hear no more those birds, who, like ourselves, sing matins and

celebrate their Creator in their own fashion; nor those instructions of

sweet and holy wisdom, which sound in the same breath as the praises of

the Most High, from lips and hearts always serene. Dear cell! I shall weep

and mourn for thee always. But thus it is: everything changes and passes

away; night succeeds to day, winter to summer, storm to sunshine, weary

age to ardent youth. And we--unhappy that we are!--we cling to this

fugitive world. It is Thou, O Christ, that puttest all away, that we may

love Thee only, and Thou canst satisfy every heart."

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

Bishop Otho of Bamberg, the apostle of Pomerania, being asked in 1150 why

he founded and built so many monasteries, replied, citing the parable of

the Good Samaritan, thus: "The world is only a place of exile, and as long

as we live in it we are at a distance from our Lord. Therefore we need

inns and stables. Now, monasteries and cells are inns and stables. These

are then of great utility to us poor wanderers; and if we fall among

robbers and are stripped and wounded and left half dead, certainly we

shall find by experience how much better it is to be near an inn than at a

distance from one. For when sudden destruction comes upon us, how can we

be carried to a stable if it be far off? So it is much better that there

should be many such places than few, seeing how great is the danger, and

how large is the number of persons exposed to it. And now, especially that

men are so multiplied upon earth, it is not absurd that monasteries should

be multiplied, since the abundant population admits of numbers embracing a

chaste life. Finally, it is well to have these built, that in all things

God might be honoured and man assisted; and how great is the honour to God

and the utility to man which daily result from monasteries! The spiritual

is even greater than the temporal utility; for there the blind see, the

lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the dead are raised, and the poor have

the Gospel preached to them."

LIFE IN A CONVENT.

A convent or monastery as a place of residence for a religious community

was made up of various orders and degrees. There were cloister monks, lay

and clerical; the professed brethren, also lay and clerical; the clerks;

the novices; and the servants and artificers. There were recruits from

every rank of society--knights and ladies, scions of noble houses,

minstrels, and merchants. All were governed by the abbot, who was elected

by the community, who lived like a prince, and who had a separate

establishment within the precincts set apart for him. He administered the

property and enforced discipline, being also confessor to the monks. He

had his falconer and his forester, and his minstrels entertained company

and travellers. He had officers under him, such as the prior, precentor,

cellarer, sacrist, hospitaller, infirmarer, almoner, master of the

novices, porter, kitchener, seneschal, etc., according to the size of the

building; and these were usually elected by the convent and approved by

the abbot. Under the monastery were abbeys, or smaller establishments,

each governed by a prior, who had all the abbot's powers, except deposing

and consecrating, and he also had a separate chamber. The nucleus of a

monastery was the cloister court, a quadrangular space of greensward

surrounded by the cloister buildings, and a covered ambulatory went round

the four sides as a promenade for the monks. The church was the principal

building, and built in the form of a cross, with a nave and aisles. The

scriptorium was a large apartment, where much work was done in

transcribing books and illuminating them. The abbot kept open house in the

hospitium, and entertained travellers of every degree.

A DAY'S LIFE IN A MONASTERY.

The following is Mr. Travers Hill's account, given in his "English

Monasticism," of the order of the day in the monastery at Glastonbury, and

which went on much the same for ten centuries: At 2 a.m. the bell tolled

for matins, when every monk arose, and, after performing his private

devotions, hastened to the church and took his seat. When all were

assembled, fifteen psalms were sung; then came the nocturn and more

psalms. A short interval ensued, during which the chanter, choir, and

those who needed it had permission to retire for a short time if they

wished; then followed lauds, which were generally finished by 6 a.m., when

the bell rang for prime. When this was finished, the monks continued

reading till 7 a.m., when the bell was rung and they retired to put on

their day-clothes. Afterwards the whole convent, having performed their

ablutions and broken their fast, proceeded again to the church, and the

bell was rung for tierce at 9 a.m. After tierce came the morning Mass,

and as soon as that was over they marched in procession to the

chapter-house for business and correction of faults. This ceremony over,

the monks worked or read till sext (12 a.m.), which service being

concluded, they dined. Then followed one hour's sleep in their clothes in

the dormitory, unless any of them preferred reading. Nones commenced at 3

p.m., first vespers at 4 p.m., then work or reading till second vespers at

7 p.m.; afterwards reading till collation; then came the service of

complin, confession of sins, evening prayers, and retirement to rest about

9 p.m.

THE ROUTINE OF ENGLISH MONKS IN 1080.

The formalism of monkery was well displayed in the code drawn up by

Lanfranc, who was made Archbishop of Canterbury by William the Conqueror.

By this code the monks were to be called from their beds before daybreak,

and go in their night-clothes to the church to sing. Thence to the

cloister and hear the boys read till the bell tolls for them to put on

their shoes. They were to pass to the dormitory for their day-dress and to

the lavatory to wash. They were then to comb themselves, and when the

great bell sounded they were to enter the church to receive the holy

water. On the signal of another bell, they were to pray, and of another

bell to sing, and afterwards to proceed to the altar to say or hear Mass.

They were again to dress themselves and to return to the choir, to sit

there till the bell summoned them to the chapter-house. On another signal,

they were to resort to the refectory. After a certain hour no one was to

speak till the children left the monastery; then when the bell sounded

again, their shoes were to be taken off, their hands to be washed, and

they were to enter the church to repeat the Litany and to hear High Mass.

At another signal they were to go in procession. When the bell rang again,

they were to pray, and afterwards to revisit the refectory. Some were then

to sit in the choir, and those who liked might read. At a fresh signal the

nones were to be sung; similar tasks were to succeed again in allotted

order, till they were dismissed to their beds.

THE OFFICIALS AND ARRANGEMENTS OF AN ABBEY.

The officers in abbeys are, first, the abbot, who is supreme, and to whom

all the others owe obedience. Next is the prior or president, then the

subprior and lower officers. The gatehouse was the place where guests are

admitted. The refectory was the hall where the monks dine. The

_locutorium_ or parlour where leave was given to them to converse, there

being silence enforced in other parts. The oriel was a side-room where the

indisposed monks were allowed to dine. In the abbey church the cloisters

were the consecrated ground. The _navis ecclesiæ_ was the nave or body of

the church. The presbyterium was the raised choir on which the monks

chanted. The _vestiarium_ or vestry where the copes and clothes were

deposited. The century or sanctuary was the place where debtors took

refuge. The farm or grange was so called a _grana gerendo_--the overseer

whereof was called the prior of the grange. The abbot was a baron in the

English Parliament, and was summoned during and after the reign of Henry

III.; and so were priors of quality. In 49 Henry III. no less than

sixty-four abbots and thirty-six priors with the master of the Temple were

all summoned. In Edward III. they were reduced to twenty-six.

Gloucestershire was said to be fullest of monasteries, and Westmoreland

the freest from them. Shaftesbury had the richest nunnery.

DIFFERENCE BETWEEN MONKS AND FRIARS.

Fuller, in his "Church History," says: "It is necessary to premise what

was the distinction between monks and friars. For though some will say the

matter is not much, if monks and friars were confounded together, yet the

distinguishing of them conduceth much to the clearing of history. Some

make monks the _genus_ and friars but the _species_, so that all friars

were monks, but _e contra_ all monks were not friars; others, that monks

were confined to their cloisters, whilst more liberty was allowed to

friars to go about and preach in neighbouring parishes. I see it is very

hard just to hit the joint, so as to cleave them asunder at an hair's

breadth, authors being so divided in their opinions. But the most

essential difference whereon we must confide is this--monks had nothing in

propriety (exclusive property), but all in common; friars had nothing in

propriety nor in common, but, being mendicants, begged all their substance

from the charity of others. True it is they had cells or houses to dwell

or rather hide themselves in, so the foxes have holes and the birds of the

air have nests; but all this went for nothing, seeing they had no means

belonging thereunto. Yea, it hath borne a tough debate betwixt them

whether a friar may be said to be owner of the clothes he weareth; and it

hath been for the most part overruled in the negative. Foresters laugh at

the ignorance of that gentleman who made the difference between a stag and

a hart that the one was a red, the other a fallow deer, being both of a

kind, only different in age and some other circumstances. Monks and friars

hate each other heartily."

BRAWLS BETWEEN FRIARS AND SECULAR PRIESTS.

In the time of Edward IV. a contest raged between the Begging Friars and

secular priests. Fuller, in his "Church History," says that "it was beheld

to be a most pestiferous doctrine that the friars so heightened the

perfection of begging that, according to their principles, all the

priesthood and prelacy in the land, yea by consequence the Pope himself,

did fall short of the sanctity of their order. Yet hard it was for them to

persuade his Holiness to quit Peter's patrimony and betake himself to

poverty, although a friar (Thomas Holden by name) did not blush to preach

at Paul's Cross that Christ Himself, as first founder of their society,

was a beggar--a manifest untruth, and easily confuted out of Scripture.

For vast the difference betwixt begging and taking what the bounty of

others doth freely confer, as our Saviour did from such who ministered

unto Him of their substance (Luke viii. 3). After zealous preachings and

disputings, Pope Paul II. interposed, concluding that it was a damnable

heresy to say that Christ publicly begged, whereon the mendicants let the

controversy sink into silence never more to be revived."

ENMITY BETWEEN ORDERS OF MONKS.

The enmity between the Franciscans and Dominicans was notorious. A friar

of each order came at the same time to the side of a brook, which it was

necessary to ford, and the Dominican requested the Franciscan to carry him

across, as he was barefooted, and must otherwise undress. The Franciscan

took him on his shoulders and carried him to the middle; then suddenly

stopped and asked if he had any money with him. "Only two reals," replied

the Dominican. "Excuse me then, father," said the Franciscan; "you know my

vow--I cannot carry money." And in he dropped him. It is stated in

Surtees' "History of Durham" (vol. i., p. 42): "The monks well knew how

impossible it was to preserve peace betwixt two bodies of ecclesiastics

having property contiguous to each other, and therefore wisely provided in

most of their grants that neither their feoffees nor tenants should lease

or alienate to Jews, nor to any religious house save their own."

MONKS DISLIKED BY CLERGY.

The chronicler Matthew Paris says that in 1207 the preachers who were

called Minors arose under the favour of Pope Innocent and filled the

earth, dwelling in towns and cities in bodies of ten or seven, possessing

nothing whatever, living on the Gospel, displaying a true and voluntary

poverty in their clothes and food, walking barefoot, girded with knotted

ropes, and showing a noble example of humility to all men. But they caused

great alarm to many of the prelates because they began to weaken their

authority--first of all by their preaching and secret confessions of

penitents, afterwards by their open receptions.

A MONK WHO WANTED TO BE AN ANGEL.

It is related among the wise sayings of Antony the hermit and others, that

a monk of Mount Sinai, finding his brethren working, said, "Why labour for

the meat which perisheth? Mary chose the good part." On hearing this the

abbot ordered the monk to be put in his cell, and when the dinner-bell

rang the monk was not called, which made the monk ask the reason why. The

abbot replied, "Thou art a spiritual man, and needest not food. We are

carnal, and must eat because we work; but thou hast chosen the better

part." The monk was then rather ashamed of his brave resolution. Another

monk, John the dwarf, also wanted to be "without care, like the angels,

doing nothing but praising God." So he threw away his cloak, left his

brother the abbot, and went into the desert. But after seven days he came

back and knocked at the door. "Who is there?" asked his brother. "John."

"Nay, John is turned into an angel and is no more among men." So he left

John outside all night; and in the morning gave John to understand that,

if he was a man, he must work; but that if he was an angel, he had no need

to live in a cell.

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

In 632 St. Rusticule, abbess of the convent of St. Cesarius at Arles,

died, and her last illness is thus related: "It happened on a certain

Friday that after singing vespers as usual with her nuns, finding herself

fatigued, she exceeded her strength in making the usual reading. She knew

that she was shortly to pass to the Lord. On the Saturday morning she felt

cold and lost the use of her limbs. Lying down on a little bed, she was

seized with fever; but she never ceased praising God with her eyes raised

to heaven. She commended to Him her daughters, whom she was about to leave

orphans, and with a firm mind she comforted those who wept around her. She

found herself still worse on Sunday; and as it was her custom that her

bed should only be made once a year, the servants of God begged permission

to give her a softer bed, but she would not consent. On Monday, which was

the day of St. Laurence, she lost all strength, and her breathing became

difficult. At this sight the sad virgins of Christ poured forth tears and

sighs. It being the third hour of the day, as the congregation in its

affliction repeated the Psalms in silence, the holy mother in displeasure

asked, 'Why do I not hear the chanting of psalmody?' The nuns replied that

they could not sing through grief. 'Do sing still louder,' she replied,

'in order that I may receive the benefit of it, for it is very sweet for

me to hear it.' The next day her body had lost the power of motion, but

her eyes preserved their lustre and shone like stars. Looking on all

sides, and not being able to speak, she made signs with her hand that they

should cease weeping and be comforted. When one of the sisters felt her

feet, she said it was not yet time; but shortly after, at the sixth hour

of the day, with a serene countenance and eyes that seemed to smile, this

glorious and blessed soul passed to heaven and joined the innumerable

choir of saints."

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

When St. Hilda was abbess of Whitby, about 660, the rustics used to have

their beer-parties, at which they sang or recited warlike songs, turn

about, to the accompaniment of the harp. One of the rustics, when the harp

was passed round to him in his turn, confessed he could not sing, and left

the company covered with shame and confusion. That night he lay in his

cattle-shed and had a dream. Some one approached him and said, "Cædmon,

sing me something." He said he could not, and that was the reason of his

leaving the party; but the visitor said he knew better, and insisted that

Cædmon should sing, and sing then and there of the Creation. Whereupon in

his sleep he sang some verses. On waking he remembered the verses, and

told the bailiff what had happened. All who heard the verses believed he

was inspired, and suggested to him fresh subjects, and he immediately

turned them into sacred songs equally impressive. The abbess hearing of

this, told Cædmon to become a monk and learn sacred history, which he did.

He soon became famous for his extemporaneous versifications of all kinds

of sacred subjects, such as the Resurrection, the future judgment, the

Passion, and the heavenly kingdom. He is now known as the father of

English poetry, and the metrical paraphrase now extant and known as

"Cædmon" is a singularly graphic description of sacred scenes. He was the

wonder of his time for this gift of song, and lived long among the monks

of Whitby. He was cheery in his talk; and when he drew near his end, he

asked them to bring the Housel, which he took into his hands, and solemnly

said he had friendly disposition towards all God's servants. The monks

wondered what he meant. He asked them how long it would be before the

brethren would be awakened for nocturnal lauds. On being answered he said,

"Good; let us wait for that hour." They waited; he then signed himself

with the cross, lay back on his pillow, and died amid the music of the

sacred hymns he loved so well.

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

Alcuin (who died 804), when a boy of eleven and devoted to the church, was

one night sent by the schoolmaster of the monastery at the request of a

lay brother who was left alone in charge of the building to go up and

sleep there that night as some company to the brother. They retired to

rest; and when it was about cock-crowing, they were awoke by the signal

for service. The rustic monk only turned in his bed, and went to sleep

again. Not so Alcuin, who soon perceived that the room was full of demons.

They surrounded the bed of the sleeping monk, and cried, "You sleep well,

brother!" He at once awoke, and they called out, "Why do you alone lie

snoring here, while all your brethren are watching in the church?" And

they belaboured him heavily as a warning. Meanwhile Alcuin lay trembling

under the impression that his turn would come next, and ejaculated to

himself that if he were only delivered he would never again love Virgil

more than the melody of Psalms. The demons, after punishing the monk, then

looked about, and found the boy completely covered up in his bedclothes,

panting and almost senseless. On seeing himself discovered, he burst into

tears and screamed, whereupon his avengers consulted together, and after a

little resolved that they would not beat him, but would turn up the

clothes at the foot of the bed and cut his corns, by way of making him

remember his promise. The clothes were no sooner touched than Alcuin

jumped up, crossed himself, and sang the 12th Psalm with all his might;

the demons thereupon vanished, and he and his companion set off to church

for safety.

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

Theodoric, abbot of St. Evroult, in Normandy, about 1040 used to lecture

his monks and warn them against idleness, and told them this story:

"There was a monk in a certain monastery who was guilty of many

transgressions against its rules; but he was a transcriber; and being

devoted to that work, he of his own accord wrote out an enormous volume of

the Divine law. After his death his soul was brought before the tribunal

of the just Judge for judgment. And when the evil spirits sharply accused

him, and brought forward his innumerable crimes, the holy angels on the

other hand showed the book which that monk had written in the house of

God, and counted up the letters of that enormous volume as a set-off

against the like number of sins. At length the letters had a majority of

only one, against which, however, the demons in vain attempted to object

any sin. The clemency of the Judge therefore spared the monk, commanded

his soul to return to his body, and mercifully granted him space for

reformation of his life. Frequently think of this, dear brethren; cleanse

your hearts from vain and noxious desires; constantly offer the sacrifice

of the works of your hands to the Lord God. Shun idleness with all your

power. Frequently consider that only one devil tempts a monk who is

employed in any good occupation, while a thousand devils attack him who is

idle. Pray, read, chant, write, and employ yourselves, and wisely arm

yourselves against the temptations of evil spirits."

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

At the critical epoch when the Emperor and Pope were at war, two abbots

living twenty miles apart took opposite sides. The monastery of St. Gall,

on Lake Constance, founded about 650, was ruled about 1077 by Ulric of

Eppinstein as abbot, who took the side of the Emperor; while Eckard, abbot

of Reichnau, took the side of the Pope. Ulric was a man of polished

manners, versed in the ways of the world, as fit to lead an army as to

wield the crosier, of great wealth, and with a host of retainers. He was a

little king, at the head of the richest abbey in Europe. The monastery

was, however, exposed, being merely the centre of a large village; while

Reichnau was on an island, with strong fortifications and safe from

attack. For fifteen years the two monasteries were at feud, each seeking

occasion to take advantage and overcome its opponent, and engaged in

constant skirmishes. Each of the abbots was proud, ambitious, and eager to

crush his enemy. The abbot of Reichnau one day tried to draw Ulric, and

advanced almost to the gates, but failed to bring on an engagement. After

long fencing, a traitor was found in the abbey of Reichnau. As the abbot

of Reichnau was making a journey to obtain a personal interview with the

Pope, the Emperor's troops captured him, and kept him in prison for two

years, and a report was circulated of his death. The Emperor then

conferred the vacant abbey on Ulric, as a recompense for his eminent

services. A friendly duke then seized the opportunity of getting charge of

St. Gall and appropriating its revenues. The abbot of Reichnau, on

obtaining his freedom from prison, resumed the warfare; but after many

intricate turns of affairs a peace was at last concluded in 1094, and put

an end to the long series of skirmishes, battles, conflagrations, sieges,

and plunderings between these two belligerents.

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

In 1083 Roger de Hoveden says that a disgraceful quarrel arose between the

monks and the Abbot Turstin of Glastonbury, who had been most unworthily

appointed to his office. In his folly he treated the Gregorian chant with

contempt, and wanted to force the monks to learn instead the chant of one

William of Feschamp. The monks were averse to the change; but one day

Turstin rushed unexpectedly into the chapter-house with a body of

soldiers. The monks fled into the church and to the altar, and the

soldiers pursued them, piercing the crosses, images, and shrines of the

saints with darts and arrows, and even speared a monk while embracing the

altar. The monks stoutly defended themselves with the benches and

candlesticks; and though grievously wounded, at last drove the soldiers

beyond the choir. The result was that two monks were killed and fourteen

wounded, and some of the soldiers also were wounded. On investigation the

King removed the abbot, and some of the monks also were transferred to

other abbeys. The abbot afterwards wandered about, and died in misery, as

became a homicide.

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

In 1136 we are told by Orderic, a contemporary, that a famous archer,

Robert Boet, with his banditti, rushed like wolves on their prey and

ravaged the lands of his fellow-monks of St. Evroult. The people of the

neighbouring bourg were so incensed that they caught and hanged six of the

gang. But the other robbers came soon after, in great fury, to take

revenge, and set fire to the village, burning eighty-four houses to ashes.

The monks, in a paroxysm of terror, tolled the bells and chanted psalms

and litanies in the church, fearing that instant ruin threatened the

monastery. Some of the monks went forth with tears to entreat the

assailants to desist, and lawful satisfaction would be given; but the

bandits, maddened with fury and blind with rage, insulted the envoys and

dragged them from their palfreys, and fired the houses near the church. It

was only through God's mercy that the wind changed at the right moment and

drove the flames in another direction. The monks' lodgings, with the books

and ecclesiastical ornaments, were saved. It was noticed that after

sacking the village of St. Evroult no enterprise of those robbers against

their enemies prospered. On the contrary, by God's judgment, they suffered

frequent losses, some of their gang being slain and others taken

prisoners. It was but just that those who had attacked unarmed and

inoffensive people, whom no fear of God induced them to spare, should meet

with the derision of stronger and well-trained troops, by whose

superiority they were soon brought low.

URGING THE MONKS TO LIVE FRUGALLY.

In the time of Philip, King of France, the venerable abbot Robert of

Moleme assembled some devoted disciples, and agreed that they did not

live, as they ought, in holy poverty, and procure food and raiment by the

labour of their hands. But the convent of monks did not agree with this

view, and said that they must wear garments suited to the climate of their

own convent. The men in cold climates must wear trousers, and could not go

about like women, with loose robes reaching to the ankles. Manual labour

was very well, but it was wholly incompatible with constant meditation and

profitable silence, or with chanting day and night the Psalms of David.

They objected to all innovations. Therefore the abbot and twelve monks

withdrew; and having received a gift from the Duke of Burgundy, built a

monastery at Citeaux in the diocese of Chalons, and lived there in strict

rule. But the Pope being referred to, ordered the Abbot Robert to return

to Moleme, which he did, and a substitute was appointed to be abbot of

Citeaux. The impulse given by Abbot Robert at Citeaux drew there a great

concourse of monks, and sixty-five monasteries were soon after founded,

all subject to the superior abbot of Citeaux. The monks of the Cistercian

order wear neither trousers nor robes of fur, abstain from fat and flesh

meat, maintain perpetual silence, and labour with their own hands for

their food and raiment. From September 13th to Easter they fast every day

except Sunday; their doors are always shut close; they bury themselves in

profound secrecy, admitting no monks belonging to any other religious

house into their cells, nor allowing them to be present in the chapel at

Mass or other Divine offices. Multitudes of noble champions and learned

men join their society from the novelty of its institution, and rejoice to

chant triumphant anthems to Christ in the right way.

FORM OF A MONK'S BURIAL.

In the records of the church of Durham it is written that when any monk

died there he was dressed in his cowl and habit, and boots were put on his

legs, and immediately he was carried to a chamber called the dead man's

chamber, where he remained till night. At night he was removed thence into

St. Andrew's Chapel, adjoining to the same chamber, and there the body

remained till eight o'clock in the morning. The night before the funeral

two monks, either in kindred or kindness nearest to him, were appointed by

the prior to be especial mourners, sitting all night on their knees at the

dead man's feet. Then were the children of the ambry, sitting on their

knees in stalls on either side of the corpse, appointed to read David's

Psalter all night through incessantly till eight in the morning, when the

body was conveyed to the chapter-house, where the prior and the whole

convent met it, and there did say their dirge and devotion; and then the

dead corpse was carried by the monks into the centry-garth, where it was

buried, and there was but one peal rung for him. The body of St. Francis

is placed in a vault under the marble vault in the great church at Assisi,

and it is in an upright position, and the vault has a small opening,

through which one may look and see a lamp burning. In the convent of the

Poor Clares at Assisi, in a vault under the high altar, lies the body of

St. Clare, with a lamp burning in front of the opening over it.

HOW SICK MONKS WERE TENDED.

When a monk was sick and in prospect of death, a servant brother was

appointed, who should have nothing else to do but to tend him day and

night. The cross was placed before his face, and every night a wax taper

was kept burning by his side until broad day. Other monks were allowed to

be in attendance on him, in order to sing the regular hours and to read

the Passion in his extremity. The experienced servants were to watch the

proper moment, and to spread the ashes and gently to place the sick man

upon them, and then to give a signal by striking the door of the

cloister, when all the brethren were to run to the chamber, for this was

one of the two occasions when it was permitted to them to depart from

their usual measured pace, the other being in the event of fire. If Mass

should be celebrating or any regular office, all who were without the

choir were to hasten, and those within were to remain. If the monks were

in the refectory, the reading was to be instantly suspended, and the monks

were to haston. The Litany was then to be chanted and the prayers,

according to the progress of his agony. The custom of showing penitence by

spreading ashes was well observed. Thus at the death of St. Martin, who

desired it, sackcloth was spread on the ground, and ashes were strewed

upon it in form of a cross, and the assistants gently laid his dying body

upon it. The monk of St. Denis says that Louis IX. gave up the ghost on

sackcloth and ashes, and with his arms composed in the form of a cross.

When the Maid of Orleans asked at her death for a crucifix and none was at

hand, an Englishman broke a stick in two parts and made a cross, whereupon

the maid kissed it, pressed it to her bosom, and mounted the martyr's

pile.

WHY MONKS HONOR RICH MEN MORE THAN POOR.

St. Bonaventura explains it thus: "It may be asked why do monks and friars

honour rich men more than poor, serving them more promptly in confessions

and other things? God has care of all men alike; therefore we ought to

love all men alike. If the poor man be better than the rich, we should

love him more, and yet we must honour the rich more for four reasons.

First, because God in this world has given pre-eminence to the rich and

powerful; and therefore we conform to His ordination in honouring them so

far as relates to this order. Secondly, because of the infirmity of the

rich, who, if they are not honoured, grow indignant, and so become more

infirm and worse, and a burden to us and to other poor; whereas we ought

not to be a scandal to the weak and a cause of their becoming weaker

still, but should rather provoke them to good. Thirdly, because a greater

utility results from the correction of one rich man than of many poor; for

a rich man's conversion is of advantage to many in several respects.

Fourthly, since we receive more corporeal support from the rich, it is but

just that we should repay them spiritually. Besides, the affairs of the

poor are more easily expedited, because they are not bound by so many ties

nor involved in so many perplexities which require counsel oftener."

GOOD LESSONS INCULCATED BY THE MONKS (A.D. 1199).

One of the narratives told by monks about the year 1199, according to

Cæsar of Heisterback, was this: Two citizens of Cologne confessed in Lent

that they were guilty of lying and perjury, but then that they could not

sell anything without both. The priest thereupon reproved them, and

strongly recommended them just to try for one year to do without lying.

They did agree; but Satan having found out their plan, contrived that

nobody should enter their shops; and the tradesmen returned and reported

that their obedience had cost them dear, and that really they could not

carry on their business that way at all. The priest, however, reassured

them once more, telling them that they should really resolve never to

offend God this way, whatever might be the consequence. They made this

solemn promise; and, strange to relate, from that hour people flocked to

their shops, and they soon prospered exceedingly. Another narrative was

about one Rocherus, a high dignitary in the church at Magdeburg, who was

playing at chess, when a servant boy entered and whispered to the butler

that a poor sick woman was at the gate, and sent him to beg just a little

wine. Rocherus overhearing this, ordered that some wine should be given to

her; but the butler said there was none unless he opened a new cask.

Rocherus ordered him at once to open one for the purpose; but the butler,

going out, pretended only to comply, and sent away the messenger empty.

Scarcely had two hours elapsed when the church bells tolled for a death;

and on Rocherus making strict inquiry, and finding that it was the poor

woman who asked for wine, and who had not been supplied with any, he

summoned the butler to appear, and, boiling with indignation, commanded

him instantly to empty the entire hogshead of wine on the ground,

declaring that he would never make use of that of which a part had been

refused to one of Christ's poor. He also dismissed the man, and forbade

him ever again to enter his presence.

A POPE INVITING A FELLOW-MONK TO COURT.

Pope Paul IV., on his election to the papal chair in 1555, being mindful

of his ancient friendship for Jerome Suessanus, the hermit of Monte

Corona, sent orders to him to come to Rome. The obedient hermit arrived,

and was joyfully welcomed; but the Pope, raising him up, said, "What

garment is this, Jerome? It is too mean. You must lay it aside." "Nay,

holy father," said Jerome; "when clad in this habit I can walk more

easily amid the oaks and brushwood; nor would any other be suitable to a

penitent." "Oh, but," said the Pope, "you shall be no longer in the woods

and desert; you shall remain here with us, and from a hermit become a

cardinal." The hermit at once fell prostrate on the earth, and with tears

implored the Pontiff not to think of executing such a resolution,

declaring that he knew of no happiness beyond the solitude of the desert.

The Pope admitted, on reflection, that it would be grievous to press him

further; so the holy man returned in triumph to his cell in the woods.

THE ORDER OF FRIARS.

The thirteenth century saw the rise of a new class of religious orders,

actuated by different views from monachism. The basis of monkery was

entire seclusion from the world and its busy ways, in order to fix the

mind on holy contemplations, and hence monasteries were built in wilds and

deserts. The friars thought they could improve their usefulness by mixing

with mankind and helping them by active duties. Hence they established

their houses in or near great towns, and acted like home missionaries,

teaching and preaching; and they cultivated science as well as religion.

There soon grew up four leading orders of friars--Dominicans, Franciscans,

Carmelites, and Augustines. The Dominicans laid themselves out for

converting heretics; the Franciscans for preaching the Gospel and

promoting charity; the Carmelites originated at Mount Carmel, in

Palestine; the Augustines were called Austin Friars. The friars renounced

property, and resolved to work for a livelihood or live on alms; and they

were called the Pope's Militia.

THE CINDERELLA OF THE CONVENT.

St. Basil relates that in a female convent at Tabennes, in Egypt, one of

the sisters was treated by all the rest as the fool of the convent, and

made to wash up the dishes and do the humblest menial work. And to crown

the contempt shown towards her, she was made to wear a turban of patchwork

and a dress of rags. She was never seen to sit at table and join in meals.

Yet she never complained nor uttered a reproach. A holy man named Pyoterus

lived not far from the convent, and one night an angel appeared and bade

him go and visit a sister in the convent who wore a turban as a headdress.

"That sister," said the angel, "is holier than thou art. Though always in

tribulation both night and day, she is always mindful of God, and never

troubled in mind, as you are." Pyoterus went to the convent and asked to

see the sisters. All were brought and presented to him. But he said, "One

is still missing." "Nay, holy father," said the abbess, "all are here,

except the poor scullion, who is a fool." "Let me see her," said the

hermit. Then Isidora was brought; whereupon Pyoterus fell at her feet and

exclaimed, "Bless me, my sister, beloved of the Lord." The four hundred

sisters were astounded at this spectacle; but Pyoterus said to them, "Pray

that you may find as much favour in the day of judgment as this despised

one. I tell you the Lord hath said you think yourselves wise, but it would

be well if you were as wise as this fool." So saying, he left the convent.

The treatment afterwards bestowed on Isidora caused her to leave the

convent altogether.

THE NUNS AND LAY BROTHERS AT SEMPRINGHAM (A.D. 1139).

About 1139, says Robert Manning, of Brine, St. Gilbert established a

priory at Sempringham, in Lincolnshire, for poor maidens. At first these

were served only by poor maids; but soon lay brothers did that duty, and

priests ministered to them. The two sexes lived within the same enclosure,

but were separated by a high wall, with a small hole of a window to pass

food and necessaries. On high feast days both sexes met in the church of

the nuns, but they were separated by a cloth. All the food was prepared by

the nuns and the sisters, and passed through the small window. When the

priests entered the nuns' house, they were to be accompanied by a number

of persons, and the nuns were to have their faces covered in their

presence. No gossiping or talebearing was allowed. The lay brothers were

never to enter the nuns' enclosure save in case of fire, thieves, etc. The

nuns and sisters washed the linen of the canons, but not of the lay

brothers, who had to do their own. The women were permitted to sew for the

men, but not to cut out, make, or mend their breeches for them. The head

prioress and nuns, on their annual journey round the nuns' houses, were to

have an escort of a canon and a lay brother to protect them and supply

necessaries. There was to be no more conversation between them than was

absolutely necessary, and the men were enjoined to retire to a respectful

distance whenever the women had to descend from their travelling waggon.

On journeys the women were never to lodge in the same houses as the men,

if it could possibly be helped. Disorderly monks were expelled, and

disorderly nuns were shut up in a little hut separate from the rest,

there to repent till death released them. In the priory no flesh was

allowed: beer was the only liquor allowed; and if it ran short, wine might

be used if well watered. In the management of the farms, where milkmaids

and reapers were hired, no lay brother was allowed to speak except in

presence of witnesses. And young and pretty women were to be especially

shunned. The lay brothers were not allowed any books, and learned only the

Paternoster, the Credo, the Miserere, and other necessary prayers.

COMPUNCTIOUS VISITING OF MONKS.

St. Waltheof was a son of the Earl of Northumberland, and died about 1160.

He became a monk and entered a monastery in Lincolnshire. He was most

vigorous and scrupulous in his habits. One day, riding with the abbot, he

was pestered by a horsefly, and often flapped it away with his sleeve,

till at last in a fit of anger he gave a violent snap and killed it. At

this fatal turn of affairs he immediately dismounted and flung himself

prostrate before the dead fly, and in presence of the abbot confessed his

sin in thus killing a creature of God, which he was unable to restore to

life again. The abbot smiled benignly, and imposed a very light penance

for the offence. St. Benno, born at Hildesheim and Bishop of Meissen, was

an enthusiastic reviver of church music. When the Pope excommunicated his

king, Benno ordered two of his canons to throw the keys of his minster

into the river Elbe. He was intensely conscientious and mindful of the

feelings of others. One evening, as he was walking in the fields near

Meissen, meditating and praying, he was disturbed by the croaking of the

frogs. He angrily bade them be silent, and they obeyed. But he had not

gone far when his conscience smote him. He repeated to himself the verse,

"O ye whales and all that move in the waters, bless ye the Lord." Then

overwhelmed with shame, as the thought occurred to him that perhaps the

praises of the poor frogs might be as acceptable as his own to the great

Creator, he returned to the marsh and said aloud, "O ye frogs, sing on to

the Lord your song of thanksgiving." This good bishop died in 1106.

MONKERY BECOMING WORKED OUT.

By the twelfth century the status of monk was beginning to deteriorate.

The fine theories on which it started lost hold, and demoralisation was

setting in. The loose way of admitting all and sundry led to a difficulty

in keeping strict control. It used to be said they began to steal each

other's clothes and cups and little articles of property. It is said that

in the abbey of St. Tron, about 1200, each monk had a locked cupboard

behind his seat in the refectory, wherein he carefully secured his napkin,

spoon, cup, and dish. Even the bedclothes were not safe. Then so many went

about traversing every corner of Christendom, bearded and tonsured and

wearing the religious habit, living by begging and imposture, and peddling

false relics, that the very name of monk became a term of contempt. Yet

William of Newburgh says that under Stephen's short reign (1135-1154) more

monasteries were founded in England than during the hundred years

preceding.

THE WAR OF THE NUNS OF BASLE (A.D. 1430).

About 1297 a convent was established at Little Basle called the Sisters of

Klurgenthal, who during the next century acquired great reputation, not so

much from the austerity of their rules as for their wealthy connections

among all the nobles of the district. The prior of a Dominican monastery

in Basle was the advocate of the sisterhood; but they had long felt this a

grievous burden, and they resolved to get rid of the interference of the

monks. About 1430, one day, the friar called, when they barred him out,

and let him know he need not show his face again within the house. The

indignant monks then spread abroad rumours of the luxurious dresses,

habits, and loose living of the sisters, and even slandered their

characters and invoked the interference of the Pope to put down the

scandal thereby created. The Pope sent commissioners, who felt it their

duty to hold a solemn inquiry into the allegations against their

dissipated and ungodly lives. The ladies demurely listened to the papal

commissioner, and then retired without saying a word; but a few minutes

later they each and all returned, armed with every kitchen implement they

could find, and belaboured right and left the commissioners, who in their

terror fled, leaving the papal bull behind them, and with their clothes

torn off their backs. This appalling treason shocked the papal

authorities, who ordered the sisters to be expelled and stripped of their

possessions. One or two of the sisters who professed to be shocked at

their companions begged to be allowed to remain till they could get their

things put together; and during this interval, which was extended on one

pretext or another to months, they appealed to their noble cousins,

brothers, and relatives to come to their rescue, and they even procured

the support of the Emperor to their claims. The nobles did so, and with a

large body of retainers so contrived that the Pope had to consent to an

arbitration to settle all matters in difference with the jealous and

rapacious monks who longed to succeed to the nuns' possessions. So

skilfully was the rest of the war directed on the part of the nuns that

they practically reversed the adverse judgment, and were restored to all

that they had lost, returning with pomp like deposed queens, and they

became more powerful and kept up a more brilliant establishment than ever.

ONE MONK STEALING ANOTHER MONK'S FOOD.

It is related by Ruffinus that a monk was in the habit of coming to the

cell of a holy anchorite and secretly stealing his food; and although the

latter knew of it, still, in order to subdue himself, he made as if he

perceived him not, and exerted himself to work more diligently in order to

repair his loss. He thus reasoned with himself: "God hath sent me

aforetime that which I needed, and this brother too will be a blessing to

me." And having sustained this tribulation a long time, his strength

failed, and he was dying. And many brethren stood around looking upon him;

and seeing among them the brother who had for so long a time stolen his

bread, he called him to his side and kissed his hands, and said before

them all, "I render thanks to these hands, my brethren, for by means of

them I trust to enter Paradise." On hearing and understanding this, that

brother took shame to himself, and was touched with remorse, changed his

life, did heavy penance for his sins, and became a perfect monk through

the example of the holy father who had died.

A MONKISH MODE OF DECIDING ON CREEDS (A.D. 680).

When the Monothelite heresy arose and disturbed the Church--namely, the

doctrine that Christ had only one will, though He had the human and

Godlike natures separate--the sixth general council of the Church was held

at Constantinople in 680 to settle it. A monk named Polychronius, and a

resolute Monothelite, rose and challenged the council to put the doctrine

to the test of a miracle. He proposed to lay his creed on a dead body: if

the dead rose not, he surrendered himself to the will of the Emperor. A

body accordingly was brought into a neighbouring bath. The Emperor, the

ministers, the whole council, and a wondering multitude adjourned to this

place. Polychronius presented a sealed paper, which was opened and read;

it declared his creed, and that he had been commanded in a vision to

hasten to Constantinople to prevent the Emperor from establishing heresy.

The paper was laid on the corpse; Polychronius sat whispering into its

ear; and the patient assembly awaited the issue for some hours. But the

obstinate dead would not come to life. A unanimous anathema was then

pronounced, condemning Polychronius as a heretic and deceiver; and he was

degraded from his functions. The council then anathematised all round who

thereafter disbelieved the doctrine that there were two wills and two

operations in Christ's nature.

A MONK INTERCEDING FOR PRISONERS (A.D. 460).

The monk Severinus, in the fifth century, was asked to intercede for some

Roman subjects who were condemned to hard labour by Gisa, Queen of the

Rugii. She made an angry answer, and bade the monk to be gone to his cell

to his prayers, and not presume to interfere with her doing as she pleased

with her own prisoners. Not long afterwards she issued harsh orders to

some goldsmiths who were imprisoned, and compelled to work beyond their

strength, in order to complete some royal ornaments which she required. By

accident her little son one day strayed into the prison, whereupon the

prisoners seized him and threatened that, as they were tired of life and

reckless of consequences, they would first kill the child and then

themselves, unless some royal messenger was sent to assure them of their

immediate release. The Queen, filled with alarm, was conscience-struck,

and acknowledged the Divine retribution thus prepared for her. She acceded

to the prisoners' demands, and not only released the men, but she sent to

Severinus to entreat his forgiveness for the way in which she had

neglected his admonitions.

HOW THE CARTHUSIANS ACQUIRED AN ELIGIBLE SITE.

The order of Carthusian monks had the credit of having, the most strictly

of all the orders, adhered to its rules for some six hundred years. One of

the rules, that each monk was to be bled five times a year--which modern

science, however, shuns--must have been founded on some misapprehension.

The astute manner in which this order acquired a gift of land in Paris has

been recorded as follows: St. Louis had given the order a house at Paris,

from the windows of which they saw another more extensive and convenient

mansion and site in the neighbourhood. Soon afterwards this house opposite

was found to be haunted by spirits and goblins, which made a great noise

in the night, rattling their chains, and sending forth the most horrid

yells and groans. Amongst other hideous things a green monster appeared

every night, with a large white beard, half man and half serpent,

terrifying all the passengers and neighbourhood. What was to be done with

this intolerable nuisance? The pious monarch gave the house to the

Carthusians, after which no more noises were heard and no more spectres

appeared; but the street in which the house was situated was long known as

Hell-fire Street, which name it bore in St. Foix's time.

LUTHER SOFTENED AT REVISITING HIS OLD CONVENT.

It is related by Audin, in his Life of Luther, that on the eve of Palm

Sunday Luther arrived at Erfurth and descended at the convent of the

Augustines, where a few years before he had taken the habit. It was

nightfall; a little wooden cross over the tomb of a brother whom he had

known, and who had lately departed sweetly to the Lord, struck his

attention and troubled his soul. He was himself no longer the poor friar

travelling on foot and begging his bread. His power equalled that of

Charles V., and all men had their eyes on him. That morning, on his march,

he had sung the famous war hymn, which Heyne compares to the Marseillaise,

and the Emperor was about to resist him, as he said in his imperial

rescript, "though at the peril of his own blood, of his dignity, and of

the fortune of the empire." The triumphant innovator was recalled to

himself for an instant by seeing the tomb of a faithful brother. He

pointed it out to Doctor Jonas. "See, there he rests; and I----" He could

not finish. After a little while he returned to it and sat down on the

stone, where he remained more than an hour, and till Amsdorf was obliged

to remind him that the convent bell had tolled the hour for sleep. Well

might the heart in which such tempests were still gathering have wept at

the image of that quiet grave.

THE MONKS AND POLITE LETTERS (A.D. 527).

Cassiodorus, a most accomplished and high-born youth, became prime

minister to Odoacer and then to Theodoric; but on the downfall of the

Ostrogoths he become tired of diplomacy, and at seventy years of age

retired and founded the monastery of Viviers about 527, at the foot of

Mount Moscius. He was not satisfied with the usual occupations of monastic

life; and having always been devoted to the pursuit of learning and

science, he sought to distinguish his monastery from the others by making

it the asylum of literature and the arts. He endowed the institution with

his Roman library, containing the accumulations of half a century. Not

only were the monks incited by his example to the study of classical and

sacred literature, but he trained them likewise to the art of carefully

transcribing manuscripts of rare and precious works. He introduced also

the arts of bookbinding, gardening, and medicine. He employed much of his

own spare time also in the composition of scientific treatises, and in

making clocks, sundials, and lamps. His mode of arranging the occupations

of monks became known as a system, and was adopted beyond the boundaries

of Italy; and thus the multiplication of manuscripts became a recognised

employment, like prayer and fasting. He is said to have lived to be a

hundred years old, and left several interesting works of his own on sacred

literature.

THE MONKISH LITERATURE ABOUT THE SAINTS.

The early Christians had great difficulty in obtaining knowledge of the

Scriptures, though it was the duty of the bishops and priests and deacons

to read these as part of the service. And the want of printing was a great

drawback to the circulation of every kind of book knowledge at the

fireside. But the Lives of the Saints were the favourites, and the most

keenly sought after from the sixth to the sixteenth century. Many of the

biographies were written by some friend or pupil of the deceased person,

and still remain most graphic pictures of the habits of the age. The

ingenuity of the authors, when they lived long after their hero, was taxed

in order to crowd into the narrative every incident which could sustain

the craving for the marvellous and romantic, and these were the inventions

of the composer. The Lives were written in the language of the people, and

the supply seemed to be equal to the demand. They moulded the creed of all

the common people, and the artists embodied them in endless forms in

stained windows, mosaics, and pictures. So wonderful were the works

usually recorded that they not only arrested the ear at once, but they

became so blended and intermixed with history, that it is almost

impossible to separate the fact from the fiction. Many of the details seem

purposeless in their absurdity; while a few are well narrated and so

probable that they were implicitly believed by all who enrolled themselves

among the faithful.

THE SCRIPTORIUM IN THE MONASTERY OF ST. GALL.

The monastery of St. Gall, in Switzerland, which rose to be one of the

chief religious houses in the Frankish Empire in 816-883, had a fine

library and scriptorium, where the monks excelled in copying manuscripts

and illuminating them. The monks sat daily in perfect silence at

writing-tables, copying the works of the Fathers and the Bible. They often

wrote marginal notes, giving vent to their wants and desires of the

moment. Each house had its peculiar style of penmanship. In the time of

the Abbot Hartmut, about 870, there were three famous monks at St. Gall,

called Notker the Stammerer, Ratpert, and Tutilo, and close friends.

Notker was said to be the most learned man of his time; and one day a

presumptuous emperor's chaplain went up to him, saying, "Most learned sir,

you know everything; pray tell us what God is doing now." Notker at once

replied, "He is doing now what He is always doing, and what He will soon

do to thee. He is exalting the humble and abasing the proud." A chronicler

says that this chaplain, in departing in the Emperor's train, was thrown

from his horse and disfigured for life. Notker was a great musician, and

set the best hymns to music for use in all the Western Churches. Ratpert

also composed sacred songs and a chronicle of the abbey. Tutilo was

skilful as an orator, as well as carver and painter, and played on the

flute. His delight was to travel from monastery to monastery, where he was

always welcome; for he carved and painted and made gifts of his own fine

workmanship. These three friends greatly enjoyed their time of meeting

each night in the scriptorium, where they discoursed on Bible subjects.

One night they overheard the new abbot, who was greatly disliked,

listening at the door, and they seized him and chastised him vigorously,

to the great delight of the brethren. In revenge the abbot wilfully cut

and spoiled the leaves of some valuable Greek works then in course of

being copied by Notker.

BEAUTIFUL MANUSCRIPTS OF MONKS.

The art of transcribing manuscripts flourished in the monasteries till

about a century before the discovery of printing. Gerbert, in his "History

of the Black Forest," says that if there was nothing else, the beautiful

writing of the tenth century, by means of which so many valuable monuments

have been transmitted to us, ought to convince us that it was not a

barbarous age. Books were then so beautifully painted and embellished with

emblems and miniatures that the whole seemed to be the produce not of

human but of angelic hands. The fervour of the abbots in that tenth

century in employing writers to preserve valuable books by multiplying

copies can never be sufficiently praised. Tangmar, in his Life of St.

Berward of Hildesheim, says that he established scriptoriums, not only in

the monasteries, but in divers places, by means of which he collected a

copious library of books, both of divines and philosophers. In fact, the

art of writing never attained to such perfection as in the ninth and tenth

centuries; and all antiquarians will admit that the form--more or less

elegant--of characters in the manuscripts of different ages places before

our eyes the state of the sciences at that time, according as it was more

or less flourishing. The same parchment was sometimes twice or thrice

written upon. The monks only followed the practice of the Romans in thus

rewriting on the same parchment.

THE PENMANSHIP OF THE MONKS.

One of the departments of every monastery was the scriptorium or

writing-office, where, during the dark ages, many precious books were

copied and circulated, and no member was admitted except the heads of the

house or on business. There were two classes of monks in this department,

called the _antiquarii_, who made copies of valuable old books, and the

_librarii_, who copied new books and inferior ones. The books chiefly

copied were the Scriptures, also missals or church services, works on

theology, and the classics. St. David, the patron saint of Wales, is said

to have begun shortly before his death to transcribe the Gospel of St.

John in letters of gold with his own hand. In this constant practice

sprang up the art of illumination, so vainly imitated by the artists of

the present day, not from want of genius, but from want of something

almost indescribable in the conception and execution--a tone and

preservation of colour, and especially of gilding, which was essentially

peculiar to the old monks, who must have possessed some secret both of

combination and fixing of colours which has been lost with them. This

elaborate illumination was devoted to religious books, psalms, missals,

and prayer-books; in other works the first letters of chapters were

beautifully illuminated, and other leading letters in a lesser degree.

Such were the peculiar labours of the scriptorium; and to encourage those

who dedicated their time to it, a special benediction was attached to the

office. We got our Bible and our classics from them.

THE MONASTERIES AS MUSEUMS OF ART.

Kings and emperors often bequeathed their rarest treasures of gold and

jewels to monasteries. The kings of France often left their crowns to the

abbey of St. Denis. Monte Cassino had great store of presents from kings

of chalices and patens, crowns and crosses, phials and vases, and precious

ornaments of purest gold, and silks with gold and gems. When the Danes

arrived at the abbey of Peterborough in 1070, they took away the golden

crown in the church embellished with gems from the head of the crucifix,

and the golden stool set with gems, and rare articles of gold and precious

stones. In the monastery of Ripon were four gospels written on a purple

ground in letters of gold, inclosed in a golden casket. The furniture for

St. Ina's famous chapel in Glastonbury was of silver and gold of great

value, the covers of the gospels were of gold, and the priests' vestments

interwoven with gold and cunningly ornamented with precious stones. In the

treasury of the abbey of the Isle Barbe, the horn of Roland was preserved;

in the abbey of St. Denis the chessboard and men used by Charlemagne. In

the abbey of Rheinau was a wooden cross nine inches high, cut out of a

single piece, and showing in more than a hundred figures the chief

passages of our Saviour's life. In the abbey of St. Stephen, at Troyes,

the Psalter of Count Henry, the founder, written in letters of gold, was

still fresh after eight hundred years. In the treasury of Citeaux was the

chair in which St. Bernard sat as a novice; and there were ancient

breviaries of the monks, written in small letters, as pocket companions in

their travels. At Treves the gospels, written in letters of gold covered

with jewels, were the present of Princess Ada, sister of Charlemagne.

LEARNING AND EMBROIDERY OF THE NUNS.

The nuns who followed the Benedictine order often displayed learning as

well as manual skill. Willibald says those of Britain and Germany excelled

in the studies usual to men. They followed the example of the monks in

transcribing books, and even in composing others. Those of the monastery

of Eikers, in Belgium, were celebrated for their labours in reading and

meditating, in writing and in painting. The abbesses Harlind and Renild,

besides works of embroidery and weaving, were said to have written with

their own hands the four gospels, the whole Psalter, and many other books

of Scripture, which they ornamented with liquid gold, gems, and pearls.

Cæsaria, abbess of Arles, and her nuns wrote out many Divine books during

the time that was spent between psalmody and fasting, vigils and readings.

Heloise and her nuns proposed difficult questions on the sacred Scriptures

to Abelard, and showed an acuteness and discernment little inferior to his

own. Peter the Venerable, in his letter to Heloise, said it was sweet to

prolong discourse with her, for her erudition was not less celebrated than

her sanctity. So that there was always a succession of noted women from

age to age, like Marcella, whose acuteness and learning were constantly

extolled by St. Jerome in his letters.

THE MONKS AT MISSAL PAINTING.

The art of illumination was one of the great triumphs of the monks in the

Middle Ages, though the same, or at least a kindred, art was practised in

Egypt long before the Christian era. So early as the fourth century St.

Jerome complained of the ornamentation of enormous capital letters in

books as an abuse. A copy of the New Testament was executed in the fourth

century in letters of silver, with the initials in gold, and is still

preserved in the royal library at Upsal under the title of the "Codex

Argenteus." In the seventh century enormous initial letters began to

supersede the current practice of introducing miniatures in the

ornamentation. The new style then consisted of interlaced fretwork or

entwined branches of white and gold on a background of variegated colours.

Irish monasteries excelled the British about that age in this kind of

work, and the Anglo-Saxon youths went to Ireland to obtain a mastery of

the favourite styles. St. Dunstan was himself an expert illuminator. A

fine specimen, called St. Cuthbert's Gospels, was executed by a bishop of

Lindisfarne about 721, and is now in the Cottonian Library. The finest

specimen of English illumination of the tenth century is the Duke of

Devonshire's "Benedictional," executed by the Bishop of Winchester in 984,

where pictures of glorified confessors are on the first page. The initial

letters became longer and longer, until their tails reached nearly the

whole length of the page, and next they were carried round the three

sides. The foliage, flowers, birds, animals, and miniatures in the

background were carefully drawn. The printing-press was the death-knell of

this elaborate style of decorating books; yet the earliest printed books

had also spaces for illumination. While it flourished, the great artists

were vastly appreciated. It was a saintly work and a labour of love, and

success in it was the highest ambition of the best men of the age.

A MONK GREAT IN MUSIC AND ILLUMINATING.

Roger De Warrene, nephew of the Earl of Surrey, became a monk in the abbey

of St. Evroult, and lived there forty-six years, abounding in zeal and

every good work. Though his person was handsome, he chose to disfigure it

by a mean dress. A respectful modesty marked his whole demeanour; his

voice was musical, and he had an agreeable mode of speech. His strength of

body enabled him to undergo much toil, while he was at all times ready to

sing psalms and hymns. He was gifted with pleasing manners, and was

courteous towards his brother monks. He was abstemious himself, but

generous to others; always alive for vigils, and incredibly modest. He did

not plume himself with worldly ostentation on his noble birth, but obeyed

the rules with unhesitating humility, and was always pleased to do the

lowest offices required of the monks. For many years he was in the habit

of cleaning the brethren's shoes, washing their stockings, and cheerfully

doing other services which would be irksome to stupid and conceited

persons. He ornamented a book of the gospels with gold, silver, and

precious stones, and procured several vestments and copes for the

chanters, with carpets and curtains and other ornaments for the church. He

got all he could from his brothers and relations as occasion offered, and

what he wrested from their bodily gratifications he applied with joy to

Divine offices for the good of their souls.