formation: the clergy were grossly ignorant, and partook of the coarse and dissolute manners of their countrymen. But whether the plan adopted to reform them were precisely of the nature which the case required, may well admit of a question. The object of Dunstan and the primate was to make the clergy put away their wives, to establish the Benedictine Rules in all the monasteries, and to expel those secular priests, who, according to the old custom, resided with their respective bishops, and to introduce monks in their stead. In process of time Dunstan became successively bishop of Worcester and of London, and finally reached the primacy, which he enjoyed for several years. Now, if we form our judgment of the man from this account, it would not be very obvious what serious charge could fairly be alleged against him. His profession seems to have been settled by his parents: his mortifications were after the manner of the times: he exhibited on different occasions a noble contempt of wealth; and if it be a crime to accept a bishopric, he shares the blame with many individuals whom it has not been the fashion on that account to condemn. Should we judge of his conduct in enforcing the celibacy of the clergy from the practice of Protestant churches, or of the first ages of Christianity, he would on this ground be open to severe reprehension: but long before his time the simplicity of the Gospel had been greatly corrupted; and the course which he adopted in this instance was then generally regarded not only as consistent with good order, but almost a necessary part of ecclesiastical discipline. It was at least possible that a man of pure and upright intentions, might in all these points have resembled the abbot of Glastonbury and if nothing farther could be alleged to justify the odium which since the Reformation has been cast upon his memory, charity would induce us to lean to the favourable side. But there are two circumstances Mr. Butler writes thus:- "The substitution of the Benedictine monks to the secular canons......met with great opposition: two councils were held upon it. Dunstan you (Mr. Southey) intimate took care that the third, which king,' you say, 'was kept away on account of was held at Calne, should be decisive. The his youth, though he had been present at the former meetings. Beornelm, a Scottish bishop, pleaded the cause of the clergy with behalf, and custom; and arguing upon the great ability; alleging Scripture in their morality and reason of the case, against the celibacy to which, by these new laws, they were to be compelled. His speech proattempt to answer it: he had laid aside, duced a great effect, and Dunstan did not says his biographer, all means, excepting prayer. You endeavour,' said he, to overcome me, who am now growing old, tention. I confess that I am unwilling to and disposed to silence rather than conbe overcome; and I commit the cause of his church to Christ himself, as Judge!' No sooner had these words been spoken part of the floor upon which the clergy and than the beams and rafters gave way: that their friends were arranged fell with them, many being killed in the fall, and others grievously hart; but the part, where Dunstan and his friends had taken their seats, remained firm.' "A more atrocious crime," proceeds Mr. Butler," than the charge which you thus bring against Dunstan cannot be imagined. Now every canon of history, even the common duty of charity requires that such an imputation should not be brought without strong evidence. The slightest evidence neither has been nor can be produced for its support. That a council was held at Calne; that during its sitting the floor fell in; that the ecclesiasties, the nobles, and the other members who attended it, were cast into the ruin; that several lost their lives, or were materially injured; and that Dunstan remained unhurt, by standing on a beam, are the only circumstances which history has transmitted to us: of the diabolical contrivance of the tragedy by Dunstan, no proof whatever has been suggested."-Butler, pp. 66, 67. Whether the absence of such proof, under all the circumstances of the case, be not more than counterbalanced by the acknowledged facts, the reader must determine for himself. We cannot divest ourselves of a marvellous suspicion that Dunstan knew more of the matter than was consistent with his alleged sanctity. As to the repeated miracles of Dunstan, Mr. Butler does not offer a vindication of them. The story of his pinching the devil's nose is expressly disclaimed; and it is not obscurely intimated that the other extravagant relations connected with the name of this saint are to be ascribed to the credulity of the age. That such stories should be propagated and believed indicates a degree of fraud on the part of some person, and of easy belief on the part of Roman-Catholic England in general, which reflect no great credit either upon the church or upon the age. We take our leave of St. Dunstan by requesting our readers to reconcile, if they can, the following statements. "The life of Dunstan is thus given at length, because a more complete exemplar of the monkish character, in its worst form, could not be found; because there is scarcely any other miraculous biography in which the machinery is so apparent; and because it rests upon such testimony, that the Romanists can neither by any subtlety rid themselves of the facts, nor escape from the inevitable inference. The most atrocious parts are matter of authentic history: others, which, though less notorious, authenticate themselves by their consistency, are related by a contemporary monk, who declares that he had witnessed much of what he records, and heard the rest from the disciples of the saint. The miracles at his death are not described by this author, because the manuscript from which his work was printed was imperfect, and broke off at that point: they are found in a writer of the next century, who was precentor of the church at Canterbury, and enjoyed the friendship and confidence of Lanfranc, the first Norman archbishop. Whether, therefore, those miracles were actually performed by the monks, or only averred by them as having been wrought, either in their own sight, or in that of their predecessors, there is the same fraudulent purpose, the same irrefragable proofs of that system of deaudacity of imposture; and they remain ceit which the Romish Church carried on every where till the time of the Reformaits temporal power or its influence.”— tion, and still pursues wherever it retains Southey, pp. 116, 117. "An attentive perusal of what Dr. Lingard has written, in his 'Antiquities of the Anglo-Saxon Church,' and of what the same author and Mr. Sharon Turner have said in their respective histories of England, and an examination of all the authorities adduced by them, have convinced me that St. Dunstan is entitled to the praise of probity, talent, and true religion. Such was the opinion of every writer, whose works have reached us, from the time in which St. Dunstan lived, till the æra of the Reformation. Then, without the discovery of a single new fact, that could justify a change of opinion, St. Dunstan became an object of the most contumelious abuse; and since that time it has been always on the increase: you now describe him as a perfect monster." Butler, p. 57. Passing over the ecclesiastical state of the country, and the encroachments of the Papacy about the time of the Norman conquest, we come, in the following chapter, to the character of Anselm; of whom "The Book of the Church" gives a representation less favourable than he appears to have deserved. We scarcely become acquainted with him here in any other character than as a warm advocate for some of the most exceptionable tenets of the papal creed, and a determined friend to the high claims of the pope's authority he was, however, something better than this; his piety, integrity, and learning entitle him to no common praise. The subject of investitures was one at that time of vehement dispute; involving no less a question, between popes and sovereigns, than the right of appointing to vacant benefices. The exercise of this power by the crown led in many cases to very serious abuse. "It appears from the records of the exchequer," says Mr. Butler, "that Henry the First of England, in the 16th year of his reign, had in his hands one archbishopric, five bishoprics, and three abbeys: in the 19th, one archbishopric, five bishoprics, and six abbeys; and in the 31st, one archbishopric, six bishoprics, and seven abbeys." "Sees were kept vacant," observes Mr. Southey, that the kings might enjoy their revenues: they were disposed of by purchase so commonly, that Simony became the characteristic sin of the age: in all such cases, they passed into unworthy hands; and, even when they were not sold, equal or greater evils resulted, if they were given, for favour or consanguinity, to subjects who disgraced the profession by their ignorance and their habits of life. To prevent such abuses Hildebrand claimed the right of investiture, which princes had hitherto exercised as their undisputed prerogative:" and had he been contented with this measure, without the publication of anathemas, which virtually rendered all sovereigns dependent upon the pope, it would be easy to defend him. To provide for the filling up of the vacant benefices was with Anselm a favourite object; and he accordingly entered heartily into the plans for transferring the right of investiture to the see of Rome, and seems not to have disapproved even of the excommunication denounced against those who should do homage to a layman for ecclesiastical honours. The marriage of the clergy he regarded also as an intolerable abuse : and, in fact, this evil had then arisen from it, that the son succeeded by inheritance to his father's church; "a custom which, if it had taken root," says Mr. Southey, “would have formed the clergy into a separate cast." Canons of a very severe description were passed upon the subject, compelling the married clergy to put away their wives; punishing by excommunication and loss of goods such as disobeyed, and condemning the wife to slavery if she ever held any intercourse with her husband. That Anselm lent himself in these matters to the views of the Papacy is beyond dispute: but he deserves to be placed in another point of view than merely or chiefly as an attached servant to the court of Rome; and by looking only at his public life, although fairly represented, we should be very apt to form a wrong estimate of his character. The historian of "the Church of Christ," a writer who, with no common powers of discrimination, has taken all due pains to examine into the character and motives of the famous men who came under his notice in the course of his work, treats Anselm with high respect. In reference to the question of investitures, whether they should be received from the king or from the pope, "Anselm," he observes, "moved undoubtedly by a conscientious zeal, because all the world bare witness to his integrity, was decisive for the latter; and the egregious iniquities, and shameless violations of all justice and decorum, practised by the Norman princes in that age, would naturally strengthen the prejudices of his education. To receive investiture from the pope for the spiritual jurisdiction, and at the same time to do homage to the king for the temporalities, was the only medium which in those times could be found, between the pretensions of the civil and ecclesiastical dominion; and matters were settled on this plan, both in England and in Germany." "I can easily conceive," says he, "that (in his strenuous support of the papal dominion) he might be influenced by the purest motives, when I reflect on the shameless and profane manners of the Norman princes. But his private life was his own, originating more directly from the honest and good heart with which through grace he was eminently endowed. As a divine and a Christian, he was the first of characters in this century." (Cent. xi. c. 5.) "If Anselm contributed to the depression of the civil power, and the confirmation of the papal, he was unhappily carried away by a popular torrent, which few minds had power to resist. It seems certain, however, that ambition formed no part of this man's character. While I am with you,' he would often say to his friends, I am like a bird in a cave amidst her young, and enjoy the sweets of retirement and social affections. But when I am thrown into the world, I am like the same bird hunted and harassed by ravens or other fowls of prey: the incursions of various cares distract me; and secular employments, which I love not, vex my soul!' He who spent a great part of his life in retirement, who thought, wrote, and spake so much of vital godliness, and whose moral character was allowed, even by his enemies, to have been without a spot, deserves to be believed in these declarations." (Cent. xi. c. 5.) The writer proceeds to furnish strong proofs of his exemplary piety. For these we refer to his work; merely stating as an evidence of the enlightened humanity of Anselm, that, in a national synod held at Westminster, he forbade men any longer to be sold like cattle, a practice which had prevailed down to that time. With a view to remedy the various flagrant abuses which presently arose out of the immunity claimed and enjoyed by the clergy, from all secular punishments, Henry the Second' chose for the primacy his chancellor Thomas à Becket, the most confidential of his servants, and the most intimate of his friends. The history of this prelate is given by Mr. Southey at much length, and with his usual felicity in gaining the complete attention of the reader; and we see no good reason for doubting the correctness of that judgment which, in common with Protestant writers in general, he has passed upon the character of Becket. Mr. Butler complains that this hero of the popish communion is tried, in "the Book of the Church," by the present constitution, the present laws, and the present manners of Christian states, and by the present notions of what is fit and proper. Should we not, he demands, in order to pronounce a fair judgment, transport ourselves to the middle of the twelfth century, and try him by the constitutions, the laws, the customs, the manners, and notions of his own time? And, finding that the clerical immunities, on which the contest in the first instance entirely turned, formed a part of the constitution of every Christian state, and that, until many centuries after this period, they had never been infringed by any whose name history has handed down to us with honour; can we justly blame, he asks, this illustrious prelate for his vigorous and resolute defence of rights which in his time made part of the law of England, and were an acknowledged bulwark of the English constitution? After every concession, which we might, on these and similar grounds, be disposed to make to the advocates of Becket, there remains, we think, in the unquestionable facts belonging to his history, sufficient to convict him of a most ambitious, domineering, and turbulent spirit. his assertion of the privileges of the church, he pursued in many cases the course which might have been adopted by Anselm; but the mantle of his illustrious predecessor had In not descended to him with the mitre: the piety and spirit of Anselm he did not possess. The last scene of his life exhibits the same determined resolution which he had manifested on other occa sions: and if he had really fallen in the cause of religion, and not in that of the pope, it would have entitled him to almost unqualified admiration. We say almost; because we do not feel satisfied that the spirit in which he suffered was a Christian spirit, and because his last words were far from being in accordance with the holy Scrip tures. The four barons who bound themselves by an oath that they would either compel him to withdraw his censures against the three excommunicated bishops, or carry him out of the kingdom, or put him to death, if he refused to do the one and they found it impossible to effect the other, repaired to Canterbury, and, after some altercation with Becket, required in the king's name, "That he, and all who belonged to him, should depart forthwith out of the kingdom, for he had broken the peace, and should no longer enjoy it. Becket replied, he would never again put the sea between him and his church.' Their resolute manner only roused his spirit, and he declared, that if any man whatsoever infringed the laws of the Holy Roman See, or the rights of the church, be that man who he would, he would not spare him In vain,' said he, do you menace me! if all the swords in England were brandished over my head, you would find me foot to foot, fighting the battles of the Lord. He upbraided those of them who had been in his service as chancellor. They rose, and charged the monks to guard him, saying, they should answer for it if he escaped the knights of his household they bade go with them, and wait the event in silence. Becket followed them to the outer door, saying, he came not there to fly, nor did he value their threats. We will do more than threaten' was the answer. "Becket was presently told that they were arming themselves in the palacecourt. Some of his servants barred the gate; and he was with difficulty persuaded by the monks to retire through the cloisters into the cathedral, where the afternoon service had now begun. He ordered the cross to be borne before him, retired slowly; and to some who were called out forbidding to do it, saying, endeavouring to secure the doors, he You ought not to make a castle of the church; it will protect us sufficiently without being shut; neither did I come hither to resist, but to suffer. By this time the assailants, after endeavouring to break open the abbey gates, had entered, under Robert de Broc's guidance, through a window, searched the palace, and were now following him to the cathedral. He might still have concealed himself, and not improbably have escaped. But Becket disdained this: with all its errors, his was an heroic mind. He was ascending the steps of the high altar, when the barons, and their armed followers, rushed into the choir with drawn swords, exclaiming, 'Where is Thomas à Becket? where is that traitor to the king and kingdom?' No 6 called out with a louder voice, Where is answer was made; but when they the archbishop?' he then came down the steps, saying, Here am I; no traitor, but a priest; ready to suffer in the name of Him who redeemed me. God forbid that I should fly for fear of your swords, or recede from justice.' They required him, once more, to take off the censures from the prelates. 'No satisfaction has yet been made,' was the answer, ' and I will not absolve them.' Then they told him he should instantly die. Reginald,' said he to Fitzurse, I have done you many kindnesses; and do _you_come against me thus armed?' The Baron, resolute as himself, and in a worse purpose, told him to get out from thence, and die; at the same time laying hold of his robe. Becket withdrew the robe, and said, he would not move. Fly then,' said Fitzurse, as if at this moment a compunctious feeling had visited him, and he would have been glad to see the intent frustrated, in which his pride more than his oath constrained him to persist. 'Nor that either,' was Becket's answer: is my blood you want, I am ready to die, that the church may obtain liberty and peace only, in the name of God, I forbid you to hurt any of my people.' Still it appears, that in some, at least, there was a wish to spare his life: one struck him between the shoulders with the flat part of the sword, saying, Fly, or you are dead!' And the murderers themselves, afterwards declared, their intention was to carry him prisoner to the king; or if that was impossible, put him to death in a place less sacred than the church; but he clung to one of the pillars, and struggled with the assailants. Tracy he had nearly thrown down, and Fitzurse he thrust from him with a strong hand, calling him pimp. Stung by the opprobrious appellation, Fitzurse no longer hesitated whether to strike. A monk, Edward Grimes, of Cambridge, was his name, interposed his ་ if it |