permission, either through papal or secular intervention, wholly to separate themselves from the episcopal community, the result of which was to leave their abbots invested with all the rights of bishops within the limits of their own domains and jurisdiction. It thus happened that in the course of ages the rich monasteries and abbeys became the seats of luxury, self-indulgence and despotism, and not unfrequently the hotbeds of disturbance; since, under the plea that they had acquired, governed, and appropriated their great wealth solely and exclusively for the honour of God, they insisted upon being judged by very different moral and political principles, from those which secured them protection and favour, and enabled them to live in ease and affluence. In the course of the twelfth century we first see the exalted, almost child-like, and grateful devotion, with which the populace had hitherto looked up to these institutions, beginning to decline; for a time, a certain mutual respect was felt by both parties, but this was soon changed on the side of the people into uncontrollable hatred and contempt.

The chronicles of the abbey at Abingdon give us a most welcome insight into the easy and comfortable lives which the brethren there led as early as the days of Edward I.; and we are not a little struck by the admirable manner in which they managed to subdivide the labour of their pleasant duties, that the burden might not press too heavily upon any one, modifying and amplifying the simple and strict rules of their founder, until the purpose for which they were originally designed was completely subverted. The germ of humanity which had bloomed so beneficently within the

precincts of these institutions in the days of barbarism, had now given place to a rank growth of fleshly lust and worldliness. The abbot and his chapter had, as everywhere else among the Benedictines, long maintained a courtly state, and lived entirely apart from the ordinary brothers. At first the representatives of these high powers were installed in offices which were admirably well adapted to the establishment of order within this exclusive institution, and to the maintenance of its varied relations with the external world, but which, after a time, came to be gradually perverted into mere instruments for securing increased power or self-indulgence.

The rules and regulations in regard to the rights and duties of the prior and sub-prior are very circumstantially set forth, whenever either of these functionaries was called upon to supply the place of the abbot when, either from absence, or any other cause, he was prevented from appearing in the chapter, at divine service in the chapel, or at the common table when stranger-guests were present. The precentor and the sacristan were specially appointed to provide for the requirements of divine service, whilst the secretary and the chamberlain were joined in one common charge-by no means a very onerous one-of superintending the domestic arrangements of the household. Very circumstantial are the instructions in reference to the choice of an appropriate master-cook. This important business demanded the careful deliberation of the abbot and chapter, that the choice might fall upon a mild and merciful man, who, being himself sober and moderate, might the more willingly afford consolation and

protection to all sick and needy persons, and be a veritable father of the congregation, serving and following his Lord in all things, as it is meet and right that he should do. This highly important functionary was to be relieved, excepting at high mass and at some special festivals, from the ordinary attendance at chapel during the heat and burden of the day; and he had, moreover, full authority to provide for the kitchen in the surrounding villages. He gave the signal for the saying of grace at table, for sitting down, and for drinking; and, while he had the privilege of being served on high fast-days with three special dishes of fish, he was expected to provide for the wants of the hospital and the necessities of those who came to ask alms. The cellarer, we are told, should be circumspect in speech, liberal in giving, sober and moderate in regard to all excesses, while he is also to be meek and pious, for the Apostle, in his Epistle to Titus, enjoins that we should "live soberly, righteously, and godly in this present world." He was not allowed to absent himself so frequently from divine service as his worthy brother, the master-cook; for the care of the bread, beer and wine, under his charge, do not require such profound thought, nor such incessant activity, as the duties of the kitchen. He was, however, exempted, on account of the burden and heat of the day, from attending masses, complines, and other day-services. But he must take care to supply the brethren abundantly with good beer at their ordinary noon and eventide meals, and see that they find their cups well filled when they return fasting from their chaunts and prayers. The refectioner laid the table, and, after placing the abbot's spoon and the prior's

beaker, arranged the platters of the rest of the com. munity in the order settled by established ceremonial practice; he also did part of the honours in the presence of guests, both in carving and meteing out the drink. Other officers, with well-defined functions, devoted themselves to the duty of entertaining strangers, giving alms, superintending the hospital, for which medical knowledge was especially necessary, and to the supervision of the fields, woods, and pastures. Everywhere the self-importance and verbose diffuseness of these multifarious regulations, which are abundantly interspersed with texts of scripture, show that, amid all the piety and liberality assumed by these virtuous confraternities, their chief object was to promote, as far as possible, their own bodily well-being and enjoyment.

We can scarcely wonder that, in such a state of things, the most unprincipled selfishness should have threatened almost wholly to supplant the good old Christian virtues of charity and hospitality. At Bury St. Edmunds, the cellarer had run into debt with a Jew, because, for three years together, he had been obliged to defray, from his own purse, the cost of entertaining the guests who came to visit the abbot, whose avarice was too great to suffer him voluntarily to supply the means necessary for the purpose. On the third day after the appointment of a new cellarer, it happened that three knights, with their several attendants, entered the abbey-gates, when that functionary, being fully equal to the emergency, took his keys in his hand, and, ushering the guests into the hall, where the abbot was seated, addressed him in these words:"My lord-abbot, you know full well that knights and burghers are received by you whenever

E

you

you are in residence. I cannot, however, entertain the guests that come to visit you; and, therefore, if will not alter your former practice, I beg you to take back these keys of the cellar, and to give them to some other brother." Such decision may very probably for a time have been attended by good results; but in Bury, as in every other house of the Order, avarice and selfishness completely subverted all nobler interests, and not only made the monasteries a common butt for the contempt and scorn of the populace, but even struck a deep blow at the internal organization and peace of these institutions.

The voice of public opinion, which had already found vent in forcible rhymes and political satires, made the indolent and luxurious monks the special objects of its attacks. According to the description given in one of these compositions, the abbots and brethren were wont to ride forth after the manner of the sleek monk in Chaucer, with a falcon on the wrist, mounted on stately chargers, and even outvying knights in the chase. They, and their community, who were enjoined by the rules of their Order to go barefooted, had long worn warm socks and furred boots, and wrapped themselves in cloaks and hoods lined with rich skins. At the gate of the monastery, we are told a strange state of things had come to pass; for, while some poor people are praying, for heaven's sake, that they may get the alms they had been wont to receive, they are harshly driven away by the porter, whilst others, who are able to bring with them a letter of recommendation from some gracious lord or otherwho might chance sooner or later to prove troublesome to the abbot-are instantly led into the refectory, with