Showing posts with label Early Church. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Early Church. Show all posts

Preface

PREFACE

THIS CHURCH HISTORY is designed to occupy a middle position between a mere compendium and those ponderous works which by their very mass are discouraging to all but professional investigators. It would have been very easy to have doubled the bulk of the production, but we are confident that in so doing we should not have increased its practical value.

Considerable attention has been paid to the demands of historical perspective. By passing lightly over subordinate themes, we have endeavored to secure space in connection with important topics for the presentation, not merely of conclusions, but also of the grounds of conclusions.

The work is not exclusively for professional students. We apprehend, in fact, that it has some special adaptations to the intelligent layman. At any rate, we have written with the conviction that a good knowledge of church history lies close to the vocation of every earnest-minded citizen. For one thing, it is very desirable that he should have in view such object lessons on the relations of Church and State as are furnished by a candid review of the Christian centuries.

A somewhat larger space would doubtless have been given to doctrinal history, had it not been for the author's conviction that the detailed treatment of this subject belongs to a separate branch. It will be noticed however, that the prominent heresies have been sketched, that the field of Catholic doctrine has been defined in the different eras, and that a relatively full account has been given of the principal theological and philosophical developments which have had place since the beginning of the critical era in the eighteenth century.

We have thought it proper to devote three out of the five volumes to the Modern Church, partly on account of the breadth and complexity of the later church history, and partly on account of the relative lack of comprehensive works for this division of the subject.

In a few instances convenience of grouping has led to a departure from the scheme of periods sketched in the introduction; but the tables of contents and the indexes will afford ready means for locating any topic.

It will be observed that on points at issue between Protestantism and Romanism we have taken more than average pains to brace our statements by documentary evidence.

The foot-notes refer to only a part of the sources consulted, but they indicate most of those having prime importance. In general, we have sought to be mindful of the maxim that, in this age of the world, it is far more important to give facts and arguments than to furnish a catalogue of the names and opinions of persons who have chanced to write about the facts. We are conscious, however, that we hare supplied no ideal illustration of the maxim.

BOSTON UNIVERSITY.
April, 1894.

The Reformation In Scotland

Chapter VII --The Reformation In Scotland

The crisis of the Scotch Reformation occurred soon after the accession of Elizabeth. It may be located in the year 1560, when the practice of the Romish religion was made a penal offense.

In Scotland the Reformation was naturally accompanied by much of storm and violence. The government had scarcely passed beyond the feudal stage. The nobles divided the power with the throne. A commonalty possessed of any direct political significance was unknown in Scotland up to the middle of the sixteenth century. The hardy spirit and Bible doctrines of John Knox and his co-laborers first wrought into the Scotch commons the temper which made them a real factor in the State. Hitherto the mass of the people had ranked as retainers of the feudal lords, and had been rather the instrument of their jealousies and ambitions than a check upon their caprices. Civil disturbance was consequently an ever recurring event. Nearly the whole history of the Stuart dynasty down to the era of religious revolution was a history of ineffectual struggle with faction. James I. was assassinated. James II, had repeated experience of rebellion. James III. was slain in his flight from the battle-field. James V. died of chagrin and despair under the humiliations which the resentment of the nobles had brought upon him. 1 His death occurred in 1542, a few days after the birth of that most ill-fated of all the Stuarts, Mary, Queen of Scots. Thus the record continues until new causes of agitation blend with the old.

One of the incentives to a rupture with the Romish Church was the corrupt state of the clergy. In very few districts of Europe were the lower ranks of ecclesiastics equally distinguished for superstition and ignorance, while their superiors, besides grasping after a chief place in worldly grandeur and rule, set an example of unblushing profligacy. Such dignitaries as the primates Beaten and Hamilton, in brazen disregard of decency, neglected even to take the trouble to conceal their immoralities. "They dared their amours in the face of the world, as if proud of the soundness of their taste for beauty, and of the rank and birth that had become prostrate to their solicitation." 1 Burton, History of Scotland, iii. 22.

Another incentive not less powerful, at least with the nobles, was the great wealth in the hands of ecclesiastics. The clergy are said to have possessed about half the property of the realm. The nobles, with their instincts for plunder, naturally looked with covetous eyes towards this spoil. Froude's emphatic words on this point may be accepted without any great discount: "The gaunt and hungry nobles of Scotland, careless most of them of God or the devil, were eying the sleek and well-fed clergy like a pack of famished wolves." 2 History of England, vii. 108.

A third motive-power was the teaching and hearty conviction of men devoted to gospel truth. Here was the true leaven of the movement, the spiritual might which gave to Europe and to civilization a regenerated Scotland.

As in England, so also in Scotland, remnants of the Lollard sect were at hand to give a welcome to the reform movement. 3 M'Crie, Life of Andrew Melville, p. 4 Tyndale's New Testament also reached the latter country nearly as soon as the former. The beginnings thus made were improved upon by a young nobleman, Patrick Hamilton, who during a sojourn in Germany had been confirmed in an enthusiastic love for the principles of the Reformation. It was only for a brief space, however, that he was allowed to act the part of the confessor and the advocate. The fire of his martyrdom was kindled in 1528. In the midst of the flames he was heard to pronounce these words: "How long, O Lord, shall darkness cover this realm? How long wilt thou suffer the tyranny of men? Lord Jesus, receive my spirit." 1 John Knox, History of the Reformation in Scotland, edited by Laing, i. 18, Calderwood, History of the Kirk of Scotland, i. 75-80, ed. 1842. The burning took place under the auspices of Archbishop Beaten, uncle of the more famous Cardinal of the same name, who succeeded him in the see of St. Andrews. Among the rewards which the prelate gained by the transaction was a congratulatory letter from the Louvain doctors. 2 Calderwood, i 80-82. It proved to be, however, a poor discretion which dictated the congratulation. The heroic death of Hamilton awakened a wide-spread interest. Others were found equal to the fiery ordeal, and the names of about half a score of witnesses who suffered in the next fifteen years are recorded. 3 Knox's History, i. 36-66. A cessation of severities occurred during the first years of the regency of Arran, but it was soon apparent to the Protestants that it was perilous ground upon which they stood. In 1546 a distinguished evangelist, George Wishart, was sent to the stake. His cruel fate greatly stimulated the animosity which for years had been accumulating against Cardinal Beaten, as a would-be usurper, Libertine, and persecutor; and a few weeks later the ambitious primate was murdered by a band of conspirators at St. Andrews.

The castle of St. Andrews remained for a time in the hands of those who had taken vengeance upon the Cardinal. Thither, in 1547, came John Knox, expecting, as his own account indicates, to find the stronghold a refuge from molestation and danger. He was accompanied by the sons of Hugh Douglas, who had been placed under his instruction. Pressed by a very urgent summons, Knox added the office of preacher to that of teacher. But his ministrations were brought to a sudden close. The castle was taken by the French. Knox experienced the hardships of a prisoner on board a galley ship for nearly two years (1547-1549). The next ten years of his life, except an interval of less than a year in Scotland, mere divided between England and the Continent. A considerable time was spent in Geneva. It was from this place that he issued his treatise, entitled the "First Blast of the Trumpet against the monstrous Regimen of Women." As Knox afterwards explained, his publication had reference chiefly to the bloody rule of Mary in England. But no discrimination was expressed, and the only conclusion left to he drawn was that, in the view of the Reformer, the government of a country by a woman is to be accounted a monstrosity. Naturally, at a later date, such a manifesto was a poor recommendation for Knox, both to the virgin Queen of England and to the Queen of Scots.

In character Knox was well suited to the stern work of religious revolution. He was distinguished by the same vigor, decision, and determination as Calvin. With less of intellectual breadth and penetration, he combined a larger gift of popular eloquence. His bold and incisive address penetrated the minds of his countrymen much as did the burning words of Luther the minds of the Germans. As one wrote to Cecil, the single voice of Knox was more inspiriting to the Scots than five hundred trumpets blustering in their ears. He well deserved the eulogy which the Regent Morton pronounced over his grave: "Here lies one who never feared the face of a man." His conscientiousness, personal force, and undaunted courage must ever commend him to the appreciation of healthy minds. At the same time, his biography can hardly fail to produce an impression of a certain uncharitableness, intolerance, and harshness. Even so great an admirer as M'Crie writes of him: "A stranger to complimentary or smooth language, little concerned about the manner in which his reproofs were received, provided they were merited, too much impressed with the evil of the offense to think of the rank or character of the offender, he often uttered his admonitions with an acrimony and vehemence more apt to irritate than to reclaim." 1 Life of John Knox, ii. 255. He dwelt too much in the sphere of the old dispensation, and gave too literal an application to the historical precedents which he found recorded there. He was intolerant on principle. It should be stated to his credit, however, that his intolerance respected not mere trifles, but that which be had reason to regard as of serious consequence.

As Knox returned to Scotland, in 1559, he found the country in a state of great excitement. Repressive measures, particularly the burning, the year before, of an aged evangelist, Walter Mill, had stirred up intense feeling. Strong suspicion was entertained that French power would be used to crush altogether the friends of the Reformation. The words of Knox were in no wise calculated to calm the agitation. A storm of iconoclasm broke out, and-churches were spoiled of their ornaments, and cloisters were destroyed. Knox cannot be charged with having directly inculcated the outbreak of violence. It was the work of the "rascal multitude," to use his own phrase. But there is little ground for supposing that he lamented much more than the irregularity of the proceeding, especially if he really uttered the remark, that "the best way to keep the rooks from returning was to pull down the nests."

This rude purgation was never undone. Aid supplied from England gave the Protestant lords the advantage in the contest with the Regent (Mary of Guise, the widow of James V. ), and the French were compelled to evacuate the country. A Parliament convened in 1560, shortly after the Regent's death, abolished the Roman Catholic religion. The saying or hearing of mass was made punishable with death for a third offense.

1 Knox regarded the mass as coming under the Old Testament law against idolatry, and participation in it, therefore, worthy of a capital infliction. It should be noticed, however, that there was no haste to find victims under the law. "I never read nor heard of an instance," says M'Crie, "in the time of our Reformer, of a person being put to death for performing any part of the Roman Catholic worship." (Life of Knox, ii, 129.)

A new ecclesiastical establishment took the place of the old. It did not however become heir to more than a fragment of the accumulated wealth of the Church. The avarice of the landed gentry crowded aside the grand educational and charitable schemes of Knox, and made spoil of a great part of the property which should have been devoted to the higher needs of the nation.

Such was the theatre upon which Mary Stuart, daughter of the deceased Regent and widow of the French King, Francis II., came to act the sovereign. She arrived in 1561, in the nineteenth year of her age. Sad exchange to her for the gay and brilliant life which she had led in the polished court of France! Six years of rule passing into trouble and tragedy, an abdication in Lochleven castle, nineteen years of imprisonment in England, and death by the executioner's axe,-such were the fortunes awaiting her.

Nothing more ill adjusted than Mary Stuart to her position could well be imagined. Brought up a Roman Catholic at a Romish court, she was set over a realm in which the practice of the Romish religion was made a capital offense. Even the private exercise of her religion was regarded as a thing most offensive and alarming. Knox declared that a single mass was to him a more fearful thing than if ten thousand armed enemies were landed in the realm for the express purpose of suppressing religion. 1 Knox's History, ii. 276. The manner, too, in which he addressed Mary herself, and commented on her conduct, was far from expressive of a delicate regard for her conscience and pleasure. To be told by him that he was willing to endure her rule as Paul endured that of Nero, to have it declared to her face that her Church was "a harlot, polluted with all kinds of spiritual fornication, both in doctrines and manners," 2 See Knox's account of his first interview with Mary (ii. 277-286), probably as unique a dialogue as ever occurred between subject and sovereign. to be charged from the pulpit with delighting more in fiddlers and flatterers than in the company of wise and grave men, to be remembered in public petitions, to the effect that God would deliver her from the bondage and thralldom of Satan, and thus save her and the realm from the vengeance appointed to idolatry, -- all this must have appeared to the high-spirited Queen as a strange adjunct to sovereignty. In fine, her position was as capital an irony on the principle of hereditary rule as can well be found.

It is a poor task in the historian to excuse the rudeness of Knox. At the same time, he ought not to be censured too unsparingly. He early gained the conviction that this fascinating Queen was bent upon acting the part of a Roman sorceress to charm back the nation to its cast-off idolatries and superstitions.

1 In October, 1561, Knox wrote to Cecil: "The Queen neither is, neither shall be, of our opinion; and in very deed her whole proceedings do declare that the lessons of the Cardinal [the artful Charles of Lorraine] are so deeply printed in her heart that the substance and the quality are like to perish together. I would be glad to be deceived, but I fear I shall not."

Nor can it be alleged that he was mistaken in his surmise. In her first years, it is true, under the discreet guidance of her half-brother, the Earl of Murray, she gave no open manifestation of a purpose to change the religion. While she declined to give a formal sanction to the reform measures which had been adopted in Parliament, she announced that ecclesiastical affairs were to remain undisturbed. But this much of concession was simply the dictate of necessity. Her purpose--as indicated by her correspondence with her uncles of the house of Guise, with the Pope, and with Philip II., as also by the measures to which she resorted as soon as a favorable crisis appeared--was the restoration of the Roman Catholic religion.

Ranke, History of England, i. 264-269; Mignet, Histoire de Marie Stuart, pp. ll4-119 in English translation; Burton, History of Scotland, iv. 218, 302.

This scheme too did not seem altogether a wild undertaking, considering the light scruples of many of the nobles and the promise of aid from the Roman Catholic powers on the Continent. There was need, in short, of every particle of the vigilance and decision of Knox, whatever portion of his asperity might have been dispensed with.

The opportunities of Mary were not a little enhanced by the misconduct of the nobles. In 1565, Murray and some others, complaining that the Queen, without consulting Parliament, had married Lord Darnley and entitled him King, and convinced also that this union with one whose faith, if anything, was Romanism, contained a threat against their religion, made a show of resistance to the Queen's authority. It was an ill-devised scheme, which resulted in the banishment of the discontented lords, and thus greatly strengthened the hands of Mary. A few months later a still greater offense was perpetrated against the Queen in the assassination of her secretary, the Italian Rizzio. Here the chief culprit was the royal consort. Darnley, who was a man of signal worthlessness, was displeased because Mary withheld from him the crown matrimonial, and he was also excited to jealousy by her kindness to Rizzio. Taking advantage of this ill humor, some of the more unscrupulous nobles, who hated the foreigner as an intriguer and upstart, joined with Darnley in planning his murder. The deed as executed was conspicuous for its barbarity, and was better fitted to stamp the perpetrators with infamy than to help their cause. If it weakened the Queen at the moment, and disconcerted her projects, the discredit which it brought upon the opponents of her policy might have been utilized erelong to increase her ascendancy.

But at this stage Mary forfeited her opportunity. Influences more potent than religious zeal or political ambition seem to have mastered her. Revenge and love joined in urging her on to a deed of hell. Filled with a mortal hatred of the husband who had comported himself so outrageously, and giving herself over to a mad passion for Bothwell, she became a participant in the plot for the murder of Darnley (Feb. 10, 1567). Such at least was a wide-spread belief at the time, and it is supported by a long array of historical particulars, as well as by the written evidence of the famous "casket letters."

1 Serious doubt respecting the guilt of Mary would probably never have arisen were it not that her came has been supported by two eloquent advocates, namely, her personal charms and her extreme misfortunes. In some minds religions prejudice has served as a third advocate. The best that the defenders of the Queen of Scots can do is to indulge in a piece-meal challenge of the evidence. The force of the general concurrence of particulars, upon which as historical judgment rests, they cannot break. This is well illustrated by Mignet, who, though he writes in a temper quite other than that of hostility to the Queen of Scots, finds overwhelming proof of her guilt. Compare Burton and Ranke. On the genuineness of the "casket letters," purporting to be letters of Mary to Bothwell, Ranke offers this very decided opinion: "No human being could have invented them" (History of England, i. 273).

This dark affair sealed the overthrow of the Queen of Scots. In the castle of Lochleven, where she was confined, she signed her abdication in favor of her infant son James, it being understood that during his minority Munay should act as Regent. Though escaping her prison the next year, the attempt to recover her power proved fruitless, and she took refuge in England, there to spend the remainder of her days a prisoner. Once upon English soil, Mary, as we have seen, became the centre of Roman Catholic plots, in certain of which she herself participated to the extent of her ability. That she should be got rid of in some way seemed to have become a political necessity. The chief question concerning Elizabeth's treatment of Mary antedates the execution. Was it right for her to detain, imprison, and hold responsible to her tribunals the princess of another realm?

A few words about the constitution of the Scottish Church may fitly close the section. The question of polity, which became in after times a burning question, does not seem to have occasioned much discussion in the time of Knox. His familiarity with the Genevan model naturally influenced his conceptions, and at the settlement of the Church, in 1560, an essentially Presbyterian system was inaugurated. While the country was divided into districts, and superintendents were appointed over these, their standing was not that ordinarily pertaining to bishops. The superintendents had no special prerogatives to ordain, and were under the authority of the general assembly. Their appointment was probably due to the great lack of competent ministers. The same face explains also the provision for readers, or those qualified only to read the appointed service. At first this class was much in excess of the preachers. The officers, to whom a more regular or permanent character was attached, were these four,-- pastor, teacher, ruling elder, and deacon. In the class of teachers, or doctors, the professors of the universities were included. The ruling elder assisted the pastor in government and discipline. The function of the deacon concerned the management of temporalities. The kirk session, or meeting of the officers of a single congregation, the presbytery, the provincial synod, and the general assembly, formed the ascending series of official meetings. All the factors in this scheme were not, indeed, distinctly organized at the start, but they soon made their appearance.

The first innovation in the direction of episcopacy occurred in 1572, the year that Knox died. This was dictated by temporal considerations, the main impulse being the desire of the nobles to bring within reach the revenues attached in law to the old bishoprics. Incumbents were accordingly appointed to the vacant sees, with the expectation that they would share the revenues with their patrons; and common rumor says that the noble patrons realized their expectation. The new bishops were little more than bishops in name. Popular irony compared them to stuffed calves set up to make the cow give her milk. A definite opposition to them soon began, and a party was formed with whom a Presbyterian or anti-prelatical polity was a matter of principle as well as of preference. This party found an able leader in Andrew Melville, a man superior to Knox in erudition and literary talent, and scarcely inferior to him in contagious courage and resolution. Under his influence, the assembly declared, in 1580, for the abolition of diocesan episcopacy as "unlawful and without warrant in the Word of God." From this time the drift of sentiment in the Scottish Church was no doubt averse to any affiliation with an episcopal system. But the government, in the person of James, entertained a contrary preference. After some advances and retreats, James finally succeeded, in 1610, in inaugurating in Scotland a genuine episcopacy, with such Anglican attachments as apostolic succession and a Court of High Commission. During the period under review the Scotch Confession, adopted in 1560, was in force. This shows the hand of Knox, as does also the Book of Common Order, which was the authorized prayer-book of the Scottish Church for about a hundred years. The Confession, as a whole, is more acceptable to the softened dogmatism of our time than its substitute, the elaborate doctrinal exposition by the Westminster Assembly. The prayer-book, in comparison with the English, shows the influence of the more simple liturgy of the Reformed Churches on the Continent.

Protestantism In England During The Reign Of Elizabeth

Chapter VII --Protestantism In England During The Reign Of Elizabeth

Elizabeth, daughter of Henry VIII. by Anne Boleyn, came to the throne without opposition. During the reign of her half-sister Mary her life had hung by a thread. Gardiner had a will to "go roundly to work" with her, and Mary at times was possessed with a similar inclination. But the revolt of the popular mind against the sacrifice of the princess, and the danger of aggrandizing France beyond measure by leaving Mary Stuart the nearest heir to the English crown, served as an effectual shield to Elizabeth. Severities against her were limited to imprisonment, and the demand that she should conform to the Roman Catholic mode of worship,--a demand to which Elizabeth could accede without large sacrifice of personal scruples. Though not a few may have entertained the suspicion that she would go wrong in her religious policy, the nation generally gave her a welcome.

It was not as the enthusiastic champion of any particular faith that Elizabeth began to rule. She proclaimed no purpose to revolutionize the existing order of things. For a time she even continued to attend Mass. Equally remote from the spirit of radical Protestantism and from Roman Catholic bigotry, she was more nearly akin in disposition to a Lorenzo de' Medici and other representatives of the Italian humanism than to a Calvin or a Plus V. Without ambition for speculative clearness, concerned more for æsthetics than for logic, she preferred a sort of mean between the Roman Catholic and the Protestant schemes. While superior to the grosser phases of traditional Romanism, she liked much of the old ritual, was decidedly in favor of the celibacy of the priesthood,

1 Cecil wrote to Archbishop Parker in 1561: "Her Majesty contiuneth very ill affected to the state of matrimony in the clergy; and if I were not therein very stiff, her Majesty would utterly and openly condemn and forbid it" (Strype's Parker, i. 214.)

insisted upon having a crucifix in her chapel, and would have opened the churches to images but for the resolute opposition of the bishops. Prescribed ceremony was more to her taste than free address, and on one occasion she expressed the conviction that four or five preachers were enough for a county. She disliked irregularities, and could be tyrannical in asserting her high notions of the royal prerogative. But it was only outward uniformity that she insisted upon. She had too little dogmatic zeal to be interested to force her individual creed upon her subjects. Like Cecil, her chief counselor, who served her so faithfully during her long reign, she made the political the dominant standpoint. She held that an independent style of worship would be a disorderly and disrupting factor in the realm; but with private belief, or with a moderate expression of private belief, she did not care to interfere, provided the belief was not in its very terms a challenge to the legitimacy of her rule.

However far Elizabeth might have been willing to tolerate Romanism, she was forced, by her position, to renounce its claims. The fanatical Pope, who had demanded more than even Mary was willing to concede, naturally failed to come to any agreement with Elizabeth. His requirement that she should submit her right to the crown to his decision provoked, of course, the scorn and aversion of the proud Queen, and forestalled every thought in her mind of acknowledging the papal headship.

On the demand of Paul IV., see Sarpi, Istoria del Concil. Trid., lib. v.; Pallavicino, lib. xiv. According to Sarpi, Paul IV. carried his ill-timed boldness so far as to mention the feudal dependence of England upon the Roman See.

Parliament, in 1559, restored the Act of Supremacy, by which the sovereign was made the head, or, as the new version of the title ran, Supreme Governor of the English Church. The Act included a clause empowering the Queen to name commissioners for the exercise of her ecclesiastical authority. On this clause was founded the Court of High Commission, destined to win an evil name by its arbitrary proceedings. The royal supremacy was supported by penalties ranging from forfeiture of goods and chattels to the pains of high treason, according to the number of the offense. The same year the Act of Uniformity was passed, requiring every minister to use none other than the established Liturgy, under pain, for the first offense, of forfeiting goods; for the second, of a year's imprisonment; for the third, of imprisonment during life. To secure the conformity of the laity, absence from church without reasonable excuse was made punishable by fines. Very little show of opposition was made to these measures. The bishops, indeed, with one exception, refused to comply with the demands of the government, and were deposed. But out of nine thousand and four hundred clergy only about two hundred lose their positions by a decided refusal to accept the new order of things.

Strype, Annals, i. 255; Neal, History of the Puritans, i. 82 ed. 1842. A larger number probably evaded the requirement. Not a few rendered only a partial and mixed conformity.

Some revision was made of the second Prayer Book Of Edward VI. A few items most obnoxious to Romish prejudice were omitted or modified. The Forty-two Articles which had been propounded under Edward were reduced by convocation, in 1563, to the Thirty-Nine which have held their place in the English Church down to the present. These articles were confirmed by Parliament in 1571, and subscription to them was made obligatory upon all priests and teachers of religion. By an Act of 1563 all holders of office, lay or spiritual, were required to take oath of allegiance to the Queen, and to abjure the temporal authority of the Pope. A second refusal of the oath was to be reckoned as treason. But it would seem that there was no serious intention to use all the rigor which the Act legitimated; for instructions were given that great caution should be employed in tendering the oath to Romish recusants, and that it should in no case be proffered a second time without previous consultation with the higher authorities.

In general, the actual dealing with Roman Catholics in the early part of Elizabeth's reign was much milder than the laws. No doubt it was only a maimed sore of tolerance which they enjoyed, and individuals were subjected to considerable hardships. But, as has been freely allowed by Roman Catholic writers, 1 Charles Butler, Historical Memoirs of the English, Irish and Scottish Catholics, 3d ed., i. 345-347, 352, 353. there was no general and severe persecution. Elizabeth had been on the throne nearly twenty years before a single priest was capitally punished for what any one would wish to call the exercise of his religion. 2 Strype'e Parker, ii. 134. But thereafter severities were greatly multiplied, and we have the record that before the end of the reign of Elizabeth about two hundred -- a large proportion of whom were priests --had been executed, and several score had died in prison. 3 Dodd's Church History, iii. 159-170; Butler, i. 398. It is a question, however, to what extent these executions fall under the category of religious persecution. The government certainly based them on political rather than on religious grounds. It is true that the laws under which capital inflictions took place allowed any active propagation of the Roman Catholic religion to be construed as treason. This was especially the case after the year 1584, when all Jesuits, missionary priests from foreign seminaries, and priests ordained since the first year of the reign, were made liable to be adjudged traitors if found within the kingdom after a certain date. But, on the other hand, as appears from the statements of Cecil and Walsingham, the government claimed that those who suffered came to their deaths in reality as agents and abettors of an assault against the throne. 1 Hallam, Constitutional History, chap, iii. How far this claim was well founded will appear from the following facts: (1) In the year 1569 a rebellion was started under the auspices of some of the leading nobles, the avowed object of which was the restoration of the old religion. The rebellion was also in the interest of the Queen of Scots, and there is no reasonable ground to doubt that if it had come to a successful issue Elizabeth would have been dethroned in favor of the Scottish queen. (2) In 1570 Pope Pius V. declared Elizabeth deposed, proclaimed her subjects absolved from all allegiance to her, and forbade them to obey her under pain of excommunication. 2 Wilkins, Concilia, iv. 260 261; Collier, Eccl. Hist., vi. 471-474 (3) The same Pope welcomed the project which was negotiated by Ridolfi, in 1571, for dethroning Elizabeth by means of a Spanish invasion. In this plot, whether with or without the Pope's cognizance, the assassination of Elizabeth, as an advantageous preliminary to the invasion, was coolly discussed. 3 Froude, x. 208, 250; Green, ii. 382, 383. (4) The successor of Pius V., besides appointing a jubilee in honor of the Saint Bartholomew massacre, patronized an insurrection in Ireland in 1579, as a preparation for a descent upon England. (5) The attempt of Philip II. to conquer England was at the same time a papal project, and was preceded by the stipulation that Philip should hold the crown of that kingdom as a fief of the Holy See. 1 Ranke, History of England, i. 318. (6) The immediate heads of the party upon whom the capital sentence was mainly inflicted were the industrious allies of Rome and Spain in the whole series of projects for invading England and dethroning Elizabeth. We refer to William Allen, who inaugurated the scheme of foreign seminaries as training schools for Roman Catholic refugees from England,

These seminaries, with the dates of their foundation, are given as follows: Douay, 1569 (temporarily transferred to Rheims); Rome, 1579; Valladolid, 1589; Seville, 1593; St. Omer, 1596; Madrid, 1606; Louvain, 1606; Liege, 1616; Ghent, 1624.

and to Robert Persons (or Parsons), the superior of the Jesuit mission in the English realm. In 1576 the earliest of the foreign seminaries began to pour its missionary priests across the channel, and in 1580 the first contingent of Jesuits, including the eloquent and ill-fated Campian, entered the country and engaged actively in the work of reviving Romish zeal and devotion. It is probably true that the seminary priests and Jesuits were not sent out with any commission for political conspiracy, and that most of those who came to the scaffold had not been guilty of any specific effort for the overthrow of the government. But it is undoubtedly true, on the other hand, that their superiors were active agents and organizers of political revolution; 1 Butler, i. 419-422. Berington, a Roman Catholic priest, complains bitterly of Persons as a restless intriguer (Steinmetz, History of the Jesuits). that they themselves declined to render a satisfactory denial of the Pope's authority to depose the Queen; a

2 Butler, i. 429, 430; Berington, Introduction to Memoirs of Panzani, quoted by Blunt, Reformation of the Church of England, ii. 459. Berington criticises those who were arraigned as follows: "They seemed to consider themselves as the subjects of a foreign master, whose sovereignty was paramount and whose will was supreme."

and that they would have powerfully assisted any promising attempt at revolution inaugurated under the papal sanction. In their own view, indeed, they were martyrs for religion, and there is no need to deny them the honor of a self-sacrificing and heroic devotion to their cause. At the same time the government cannot be blamed for regarding them as agents for executing the revolutionary schemes of their acknowledged head the Pope of Rome, though the capital inflictions, in the absence of clear proof of direct complicity in treasonable attempts, must be condemned.

Six years after the Jesuit emissaries entered England came the culminating conspiracy. A seminary priest by the name of Ballard is supposed to have been the prime mover, though the conspiracy takes its name from Babington, a young gentleman who engaged with several companions to kill the Queen. The plot, which included in its design assassination, insurrection, and invasion, was avenged in the blood of the chief English confederates, and drew after itself a consequence no less serious than the execution of Mary Stuart. She had been a prisoner in England for a long time, and by virtue of her position as a Roman Catholic and the next claimant after Elizabeth to the English throne, was the centre, whether with or without her knowledge, of all Romish plots. Being declared guilty of complicity in the Babington conspiracy, she was brought to the scaffold in 1587. This startling act of vengeance urged to a speedy execution against England of a great project which had been under consideration, and in 1588 the Grand Armada set sail from Spain, to be destroyed by British valor and the fury of wind and wave.

The unpatriotic and treasonable course of the more zealous and bigoted section of English Romanists naturally tended to the disadvantage of the much larger number who had showed exemplary loyalty and patience, and helped greatly toward the ascendancy of Protestantism. If the majority of the older generation still inwardly maintained their preference for the old faith, a majority of the younger generation in the latter part of Elizabeth's reign were well purged of any inclination to Romanism. The instruction of the people passed gradually from the hands of priests who had reluctantly abandoned the Romish rites to those who had an inward sympathy with Protestantism, and whose influence was also aided by better morals than had characterized the old order. "By the close of the Queen's reign the moral temper as well as the social character of the clergy had greatly changed. Scholars like Hooker could now be found in the ranks of the priesthood, and the grosser scandals which disgraced the clergy as a body for the most part disappeared. . . . The influence of the new clergy was backed by a general revolution in English thought. The grammar schools were diffusing a new knowledge and mental energy through the middle classes and among the country gentry. The tone of the Universities -- no unfair test of the tone of the nation at large-changed wholly as the Queen's reign went on. At its opening Oxford was a 'nest of Papists,' and sent its best scholars to feed the Catholic seminaries; at its close the University was a hotbed of Puritanism." 1 Green, History of the English People,ii. 404, 405.

In mentioning Puritanism we have mentioned Elizabeth's thorn in the flesh. Indeed she hated the Puritans not a whit less than she did the radical Papists.

As previously indicated, the rise of the Puritans is explained by the conservative cast which the English Reformation assumed under the supervision of the crown. To ardent minds it seemed that the movement was hindered from reaching its proper goal. Familiarity with foreign models increased their dissatisfaction. Many who had been exiled in the reign of Mary, came back from Strasburg, from Geneva, or from Zurich, with a pronounced distaste for pomp and prelacy. They began to criticise, to make protests, to seek amendments of the established worship and polity. They were answered with persecution, and persecution naturally urged them to more uncompromising views. Being placed under constraint by the crown, while they commanded a large following in Parliament, they were naturally inclined to be advocates of Parliamentary privilege. Moreover, the type of government which they favored in the Church could hardly fail to suggest to their minds that civil government is best ordered where the monarchical feature, if not eliminated, is at least restricted. 1 Compare Macaulay, History of England, i. 44, 45.

In the first years of Elizabeth the feature of the establishment which was specially obnoxious to the radical reformers was the use of the surplice and other vestments which had a popular association with the Romish worship. The imposition of these habits was nothing more than a piece of governmental policy or prejudice. The people were not fond of them. The bishops with few, if any, exceptions would gladly have dispensed with them. 2 Neal, History of the Puritans, i. 92, 93; Soames, Elizabethan Religious History, chap. i.; Zurich Letters, nos. xv., lx., c., and cxi., ed. 1846. But Elizabeth was pertinacious in the demand that her servants should appear in the prescribed livery. In addition to the obnoxious vestments, there were certain ceremonies and practices which evoked censure.

3 The petition presented to James I. at his accession indicates the points relating to the church service upon which most stress was laid. Neal gives them thus: "That the cross in baptism, the interrogatories to infants, baptism by women, and confirmation may be taken away; that examination may go before the communion; that the ring in marriage may be dispensed with; that the service may be abridged; church songs and music moderated to better edification; that the Lord's day may not be profaned, nor the observation of other holidays strictly enjoined; that ministers may not be charged to teach their people to bow at the name of Jesus; and that none but canonical scriptures be read in the Church" (i. 228).

Between 1570 and 1572 the controversy advanced to a more serious stage, and the constitution of the Church, as well as its fashions, was called in question. Under the lead of Thomas Cartwright, whose views caused his ejection from Cambridge University, it began to be asserted that the Scriptures gave no warrant either for the name or the function of archbishop or archdeacon, and that the powers of the bishops ought to be greatly retrenched. In fact, a distinct attack was made upon prelacy, and the leaning of the Puritans to an essentially Presbyterian type of church government was made manifest. Cartwright, in his controversy with Whitgift, maintained at once the binding obligation of the New Testament model, the parity of the original bishops among themselves, and the limitation of their oversight to a single congregation. 1 a convenient summary of his arguments is given in B. Brook's Memoir of Cartwright, chaps. iii, and v.

While the Puritans considered themselves justified in a measure of non-conformity, they were not for the most part separatists. Some of their number, it is true, withdrew into separate congregations. We read of one of their assemblies in London being broken up by the authorities in 1567, and a hundred of its members being put under arrest. Separation, however, was not the approved policy. The more distinguished representatives of the Puritan party thought it better to remain in the Church and to labor for its reformation. The advocacy of separation, as a matter of principle, became especially characteristic of those who held the most democratic views of church government, who contended for the self-governing faculty of each individual congregation, and thus became the fathers of the Independents or Congregationalists. Such were Robert Brown, Barrowe, Greenwood, and Robinson. As refusing communion with the Established Church and sharply assailing its constitution, they were treated with great severity. Some found refuge in Holland. Several,including Barrowe and Greenwood, were sentenced to death under a harsh and forced construction of the Libel Act. 1 The feeling of the authorities had been exasperated against the sectaries by a series of violent tracts, dating from 1588, and known as the Martin Mar-Prelate tracts.

From the year 1564 to the end of the reign of Elizabeth the work of disciplining the Puritans was one of the constant tasks of the government. If the zeal of the bishops relaxed in this work, the Queen's sceptre became a goad to urge them forward. Parker, her first archbishop, served her as a faithful instrument, though not without some inward reluctance. Grindal, who followed, earned her displeasure by too great a leaning to liberty. Her third archbishop, the energetic and dogmatic Whitgift, needed no spur. Under his administration the Court of High Commission became an effective instrument of ecclesiastical rigor. With unlimited prerogative of inquiry it combined the right to fine and imprison. Being largely determined in its operations by the archbishop, it had the odious character which attaches to a personal despotism. But if Whitgift did not save his reputation, he gained his immediate aim. He had the satisfaction of seeing the Puritans checked and non-conformity greatly restrained. His satisfaction however, would have been much less,could he have foreseen that the check was only as a dam to heap up waters whose accumulated force would soon loosen the foundation stones of the ecclesiastical structure.

While the Puritans suffered from the intolerance of their opponents, they were not themselves advocates of tolerance. They believed generally in an established religion, and in substantial penalties for offenses against religion. As respects the relations of Church and State, they contended not for a divorce, but for an adjustment which should leave the Church in a less servile relation to the civil power.

It is noteworthy that throughout the first stages of the Puritan controversy the upholders of the established polity took a moderate ground as respects its sanctions. They were content to maintain that it was agreeable to Scripture and to Christian history, and, as being introduced by the lawful authority of the realm, should be accepted by all loyal subjects. They did not dream of asserting for it an exclusive validity. The arbitrary and sectarian notion that the New Testament authoritatively prescribes a specific form of church government came from the Puritan rather than from the prelatical party. A high Presbyterian preceded a high episcopal theory. Cranmer and his associates had no thought of the divine right of episcopacy. To unchurch those who were living under a Presbyterian economy, or to dispute the proper ministerial character of those who had received only Presbyterian ordination, did not enter the heads of the great body of Elizabethan divines. 1 Macaulay, i. 56, 57. Even a man of such controversial and high-church instincts as Whitgift, made episcopacy nothing more than an admissible and desirable institute. He used language involving an unqualified denial of its necessity, in that he declared against the necessity of any one specific type of polity. "I find," he says, "no one certain and perfect kind of government prescribed or commanded in the Scriptures to the Church of Christ.... Notwithstanding government, or some kind of government, may be a part of the Church, touching the outward form and perfection of it, yet it is not such a part of the essence and being, but that it may be the Church of Christ, without this or that kind of government." 1 Works, i. 184, 185, Parker Society edition. Richard Hooker, who took up the controversy, and in his "Laws Of Ecclesiastical Polity" made the most celebrated reply to the teachings of Cartwright, argued from the same standpoint. He remarks: "He which affirmeth speech to be necessary among all men throughout the world, doth not thereby import that all men must necessarily speak one kind of language; even so the necessity of polity and regiment in all Churches may be held without holding anyone certain form to be necessary in them all." 2 Book iii. chap. ii. - Hooker, to be sure, thinks the Scriptures favorable, rather than otherwise, to episcopacy. "If we did seek," he says, "to maintain that which most advantageth our own cause, the very best way for us and strongest against them were to hold even as they do, that in Scripture there must needs be some particular form of church polity which God hath instituted, and which for that very cause belongeth to all churches, to all times." 3 Book iii, chap, x. That Hooker refused to proceed in this way, which he regarded as controversially most advantageous, shows the clearness of his conviction that it was a way of falsehood. The advantage, however, which the gifted author declined to use, men of a different calibre were beginning to seize upon. A sermon by Bancroft in 1589 (or February, 1588, by the old reckoning) announced the divine right of episcopacy.

1 So the sermon has commonly been interpreted, though Hallam fails to find in it so large a meaning. G. G. Perry regards the sermon as marking a new era in the controversy by asserting for episcopacy that divine right which the opposing party had claimed for presbytery (History of the Church of England, pp. 343, 344. Compare Hook, Archbishops, x. 195).

This was novel doctrine at that time, and was far from claiming general acceptance even among those not infected with Puritanism. It appears also that the first advocates of the doctrine hesitated to carry it to its extreme consequences. Early in the reign of James I. the Convocation of Canterbury, under the presidency of Bancroft, adopted a canon which was plainly meant to recognize the Scottish Church--then without any regular episcopacy -- as a part of "Christ's holy Catholic Church." 2 Grub, Ecclesiastical History of Scotland. ii. 282. Again, in 1610, at the consecration of the Scottish bishops, Archbishop Bancroft declined the suggestion of Andrews, Bishop of Ely, that the candidates, as not having received episcopal ordination, should first be ordained presbyters, maintaining "that thereof there was no necessity, seeing where bishops could not be had, the ordination given by the presbyters must be esteemed lawful, otherwise it might be doubted if there were any lawful vocation in most of the reformed churches." 3 Spottiswood, History of the Church of Scotland, iii. 209, ed. 1851. It was not to be expected, however, that the subject would rest at this point. The claim of divine right must be followed by more intolerant pretensions, else we should observe here an exception to the general tendency of ecclesiastical hierarchies, Christian or pagan, to forget moderation, when once started on the road to self-deification. We shall find Bancroft's doctrine bearing fruit in the time of Laud. Nor is it a barren doctrine in our own day; for the whole scheme of sacramental magic which is taught by modern ritualism hangs upon the doctrine of the divine right and unbroken succession of bishops, as channels of authority and grace.

While the Puritan controversy ruffled the ecclesiastical surface, the general condition of the English nation, during the later years of Elizabeth, was one of peace and prosperity. After the defeat of the Spanish Armada the danger of foreign invasion, which had hung as a threatening cloud upon the horizon, was no longer a cause of serious apprehension. In this time of lessened tension English talent reached its opportunity to anglicize the Renaissance, and the era was begun which is immortalized by the names of Shakespeare, Spenser, and Bacon.

Monasticism

V. -- MONASTICISM.

The most extraordinary development in the sphere of Christian life in this era was undoubtedly monasticism. History presents few examples of a more striking conjunction of extremes than we have here. Just as the Church came, on the one hand, into close alliance with the world, and was replenished with elegance and luxury, it hastened, on the other, into the most radical repudiation of the world and of the ordinary refinements and comforts of life. Over against the sumptuous prelate, clad in costly vestments, and officiating in a magnificent temple, we have the picture of the half-starved ascetic, clothed in sheepskin, and choosing such habitations as nature has appointed to the wild beasts. The origin of such a startling counterpart to a rich and prosperous Church may well claim special attention.

1. CAUSES. --In inquiring after the causes of Christian monasticism, we are met at once with the fact that monastic life had been widely cultivated before the Christian era. Brahmanism had fostered it in its most radical forms; Buddhism had given it extensive patronage; Judaism had found a place for it in the sects of the Essenes and the Thereapeutæ; and even Hellenism had given, to some extent, an example of it in the school of Pythagoras. A glance at these developments cannot fail to suggest the thought that there was a common cause back of them, a cause contributing also to the rise of Christian monasticism. This cause may be defined as the painful consciousness of the alienation of the world, and of the individual in his natural state, from God. Men feeling this, as has been the case in every age not wholly wanting in vitality of religious sentiment, have experienced a powerful incentive to seek for some remedy. In the absence of a far-seeing spiritual philosophy, it was natural that they should resort to the remedy most immediately suggested by the conditions; that is, to an extraordinary renunciation of the world, and an extraordinary crucifixion of the natural life. What was thus originated by a species of religious earnestness, custom and various accessory influences might combine to perpetuate.

There were, however, in addition to this general incentive, the following specific causes of the rise and spread of Christian monasticism in these centuries: (1) A bias carried over from the preceding period. Centuries of persecution by heathen authorities had caused many to associate the secular world with heathenism and with the evil powers which were supposed to be the patrons of heathenism. After the espousal of Christianity by the State, remnants of this feeling were still at hand; and since the partition-wall between the general Church and the world had been broken down, the inherited feeling of opposition to the latter sought satisfaction in a select and isolated station within the Church. (2) The contagion of heathen ideas. In combating Gnosticism and Manichæism, the Church had formally disowned the idea that matter is essentially evil, and its corollaries respecting the human body. What was combated, however, was so much in the atmosphere of the times, and maintained such prolonged contact with the Church, that it obtained a certain foothold within its borders, despite a formal and theoretical opposition. The body came practically to be regarded by many as a synonyme for the evil part of human nature, and the voluntary persecution of it was looked upon as the highest virtue. (3) A mistaken interpretation of biblical examples. The distinction between the Old and the New Testament order of things was not duly observed. Men of the wilderness, therefore, like Elijah and John the Baptist, were looked upon as models especially worthy of emulation. (4) An over-estimate of martyrdom and a thirst for some equivalent. Not only had martyrdom come to be regarded as a direct path to the glory of heaven: to a large degree it had become in fact a direct path to a cherished and glorified memory among men. Those filled with admiration for the martyrs, and emulous of their heroism, saw this path closed against them by the cessation of persecution. It only remained for them to exhibit their fortitude by the self-imposed trials of the ascetic life. (5) A reaction against the growing worldliness within the Church. (6) Various personal needs and desires. Some, no doubt, entered the monastic life because they sincerely thirsted after fellowship with God, and expeqted to find in retirement from the world an effectual aid toward spiritual perfection. Some were moved by a desire to atone for serious guilt. Some were instigated by the mere force of example. With some there was no higher motive than a covetousness after the distinction and homage which were seen to accrue to various representatives of monastic rigors. (7) Habituation to the wilderness life into which individuals had been driven by the later persecutions.

2. HISTORICAL OUTLINES. --Several stages, more or less clearly marked, may be distinguished in the history of monasticism: (1) The comparatively unorganized asceticism of the first three centuries, a life of superior abstinence which individuals assumed without being widely separated from the mass of Christians. (2) Anchoretism, or the hermit life, characterized by solitude and great austerity. (3) Cenobite, or cloister life, nearly simultaneous in its rise with the preceding, but destined to a much more permanent and extensive appropriation within the bounds of Christendom. (4) The rise in the Latin Church of the great orders of the Middle Ages, --orders in which all the cloisters were subject to the same central authority. The Order of Clugny, and still more the Franciscans and the Dominicans, represent this stage.

The first of the hermits, whose name has come down to us, was the semi-mythical Paul of Thebes. Having entered the wilderness as a young man during the Decian persecution, he is said to have dwelt there, in a cave, for ninety years. Among the fabulous stories connected with his: memory are the accounts of his having been fed daily by ravens, and of his death having been lamented by two lions, who also did him the honor to scratch him a grave in the sand. The founding of the hermit life, however, is not to be attributed to him so much as to the one who discovered his retreat, the renowned Anthony. If he was not the first of the hermits in point of time, he was still, as Jerome remarks, the first to escite a special zeal for the hermit life.

Anthony was born about 251, at Coma, on the border of the Thebaid. He belonged to a Christian Coptic family. His education was meagre, and seems to have stopped short of the Greek language and literature, at least not to have proceeded beyond the elements. The death of his parents in his eighteenth year devolved upon him the care of the inherited estate. But worldly business was distasteful to his meditative temper. As he heard in the services at church the command which Christ addressed to the young man, respecting the sale of all his possessions and distribution to the poor, he gave the words a literal application to himself. All his property was disposed of, with the exception of a small sum which he retained for the benefit of his sister. Soon after, even this reserve was relinquished. Having intrusted his sister to a company of pious virgins, he betook himself to retirement, retreating from time to time more deeply into the wilderness, and finally taking up his abode on Mount Colzim, not far from the Red Sea. During his long life,--protracted, it is said, beyond the limit of a century, --he rarely left the wilderness. Two visits only to Alexandria are recorded, --the one, in 311, to strengthen Christians suffering from heathen persecution; the other, in 351, to enter a protest against Arianism. [See Athansius, Vita Antonii, § 46, 69.] As may be judged from this last instance, his absorbing practical aim did not quench his interest in the theological controversies of his time. An evidence to the same effect may be observed in a vision which troubled his mind shortly before the Arians, under the patronage of Constantius, took possession of the churches. According to his words to the brother monks who pressed for an explanation of his grief, he saw mules invading the sanctuary, trampling around with furious rout, and compassing on every side the table of the Lord. [Vita Anton, § 82.]

Anthony is reported to have said that "he who abideth in solitude is delivered from the threefold warfare of hearing, speaking, and seeing, and has only to support the combat against his own heart." It is quite possible, however, for a heart, distempered by lack of ordinary social relations, to supply more temptation than the senses commonlyimbibe from the sphere of social intercourse. So the experience of Anthony himself seemed to prove. He labored hard to conquer rebellious nature: he clothed himself in haircloth and sheepskin; he slept on the ground, or, at best, on a pallet of straw; his daily allowance of food was no more than twelve ounces of bread; the luxury of bathing was repudiated; whole nights were frequently spent in prayer. But still, unsubdued by these austerities,the fire of an unhallowed nature continued to burn within. The hermit found himself tormented by worldly thoughts and images of impurity. A swarm of demons appeared to encompass him, and often to his glowing fancy they took the shape of visible bodily assailants, --such power has the intense inner life of natures peculiarly sensitive to create seemingly exterior objects ! At length, however, Anthony came to understand that conflicts with demons, real as they may be, are largely shaped and colored by subjective conditions; and we find him teaching his brother monks that the demons lose their fearful shape and their power when the soul is uplifted to God in firm trust and confidence.

The life of Anthony in the wilderness did not exclude him from a very positive influence upon his age. His casual visits to the city produced a great effect upon the multitude, on account of his strange appearance and his repute for sanctity. Many also sought his wilderness retreat, for the benefit of his counsels. Tn most cases a fair reward was obtained for their pains; for Anthony was a good judge of human nature, and prescribed to inquirers with great practical sagacity, as well as with entire honesty. He may fitly be ranked among the very first of his class. Rigorous in his treatment of himself, he was inclined to treat others with gentleness. The homage which he received was unsought, and seems never to have been a source of pride or elation; one of his last requests was that the place of his grave should be kept secret (a request signally disobeyed by the idolatrous generations of subsequent centuries, who carried about his relics). He had that soundness of spiritual perception which enabled him to reckon the moral above the marvellous. "It is not becoming," said he, " to glory in casting out devils, or in curing diseases, or to make much of him only who casts out devils, and to disparage him who does not." [Vita Anton., § 38.] His biographer narrates of him that "he united with the suffering in sympathy and prayer; and often, and in behalf of many, the Lord heard him. When heard, he did not boast; when denied his petition, he did not murmur,--but always himself gave thanks to the Lord, and exhorted the afflicted to be patient, and to understand that the prerogative to heal belonged neither to him nor to any man, but to God alone, who works when and for whom He pleases." [Ibid., § 66.]

Crude as is the figure which Anthony presents, when we look to various features of his asceticism, a species of grandeur pertained to the spirit and aim of his life. He struggled heroically for self-subjugation. And his struggle was not in vain. The temptations to self-righteousness incident to so legal a régime as is that of monastic austerities were nobly withstood by him. He came to the close of life with a heart at once humble toward God, and not wanting in love to man.

The example of Anthony acted like contagion. Before his death, the deserts of Egypt, the headquarters of monasticism, had begun to be peopled with hermits. Neighboring countries followed the Egyptian precedent. Syria and Palestine early shared in the zeal for the new method of conquering the world and the devil. Hilarion was the first distinguished native leader whose influence went abroad over these regions.

An involuntary approach to the cloister life was made under Anthony, by reason of the monks who insisted upon being under his spiritual guidance, and located their cells in his neighborhood. But the founding of cloister life of the more definite and organized type is to be referred to Pachomius. It was by him that monastic principles were first embodied in a written rule. About 325, he instituted a society upon an island (Tabenns) of the Nile, in Upper Egypt. Numerous branches arose. The whole society is said to have numbered fifty thousand members by the middle of the fifth century. Cloisters for nuns were also instituted, under the direction of Pachomius.

The following account of the origin and contents of the institutes of Pachomius is given by Sozomen: "It is said that Pachomius at first dwelt alone in a cave, but that a holy angel appeared to him, and commanded him to assemble some young monks, to instruct them in the practice of philosophy Cthat is, monasticism], and to inculcate the laws which were about to be delivered to him. A tablet was then given to him, which is still carefully preserved. Upon this tablet were inscribed, injunctions by which he was bound to permit every one to eat, to drink, to work, and to fast, according to his capability of so doing: those who ate heartily were to be subjected to arduous labor, and the ascetic were to have more easy tasks assigned them. He was commanded to have many cells erected, in each of which three monks were to dwell, who were to take their meals at a common refectory in silence, and with a veil thrown over their head and face, so that they might not be able to see each other or any thing but what was on or under the table. They were not to admit strangers to eat with them, with the exception of travellers, to whom they were to show hospitality. Those who wished to live with them were to undergo a probation of three pears, during which time the most laborious and painful tasks were to be imposed upon them. They were to clothe themselves in skins, and to wear woollen tiaras adorned with purple nails, and linen tunics with girdles. They were to sleep in their tunics and garments of skins, reclining on long chairs closed on each side, which were to serve as couches. [In the Rule, however, mention is made of mats (cap. lxxxviii.).] On the first and last days of the week they were to approach the altar and partake of the communion of the holy mysteries, and were then to unloose their girdles and throw off their robes of skin. They were to pray twelve times every day, and as often during the evening, and were to offer up the same number of prayers during the night. The whole congregation was to be divided into twenty-four classes, each of which was to be distinguished by one of the letters of the Greek alphabet." [Hist. Eccl., iii. 14.]

The Rule of Pachomius is carried out into very minute specifications. Special care is manifest to exclude all notion of private property. The monk is even forbidden to have his own pair of tweezers for extracting thorns. As the monastic society of Pachomius speedily became very numerous, a gradation of officers was naturally recognized. The head of the parent society bad a general supervision. A monastery which might contain thirty or forty houses, having each about forty monks, was presided over by an abbot, while each of the houses had its provost.

As the infection of monasticism spread, individuals became ambitious of higher grades of self-torture. In the fifth century, Symeon, a shepherd from the border of Syria and Cilicia, gave the first example of the Stylites, or pillar-saints. According to Theodoret, he was primarily incited to take his station upon a pillar by his desire to avoid the press of the people who thronged the ascetic, and sought to derive some benediction from his garments of skins. The same author states that he dwelt successively upon pillars six, twelve, twenty-two, and thirty-six cubits high. [Hist. Relig., xxvi.] The necessity of descending was obviated by the readiness of the people to carry up supplies. Thirty-six years are said to have been spent in this elevated pulpit, from which, by word and by the example of his self-tortures, Symeon preached to admiring crowds. Even this extreme of ascetic fanaticism found imitators. In the East, individual instances of pillar-saints appeared as late as the twelfth century. The West records but a single attempt of this sort, and that was cut short by the veto of the authorities.

An intemperate emulation gave birth to still other forms of extravagance. Some had an ambition to convert themselves into praying-machines, like Paul the Simple, who daily recited three hundred prayers, the count being kept by means of pebbles. Some carried fasting as near as possible to the point of total abstinence from food. Of Heliodorus, it is said that he partook of food only one day in seven. [Sozomen, vi. 34.] Some made a virtue of absolute solitude, like Akepsimas, who shut himself up in a little domicile where he spent sixty years, neither being seen by any one nor addressing any one, communing only with himself and with God. An oblique or winding aperture admitted the food which charity brought, without exposing him to the observation of the giver. [Theodoret, Hist. Relig., xv.] In some instances the sin against reason was requited by an actual overthrow of the faculty of reason. Evagrius speaks of a class of men who exposed themselves well nigh naked to extremes of heat and cold, and fed wholly upon the natural produce of the ground, until they became "assimilated to wild beasts, with their outward form altogether disfigured, and their mind in a state no longer fit for intercourse with their species." [Hist. Eccl., i. 21.]

The more radical eccentricities of monasticism were left behind as it was transported to the West. Athanasius was among the first to encourage this transportation. His personal representations during his banishment, as also his biography of Anthony, awakened a considerable interest in the monastic life. Some visited the East to take example from the austerities there practised. Cloisters arose in the neighborhood of Rome and in other parts of the West. The learned Jerome was an ardent propagandist at the great capital. His influence was especially effective among the patrician women of Rome. Following his exhortations, widowed matrons and virgins entered with great enthusiasm upon the ascetic life. Paula, the most noted of these, accompanied Jerome in his eastern sojourn, founded a monastery at Bethlehem, and established there also three nunneries. In Milan, Ambrose gave his voice in favor of monasticism. In Gaul, Martin of Tours, Honoratus, Saint Germain of Auxerre, and John Cassianus were its enthusiastic patrons. Augustine, as Bishop of Hippo, formed his clergy into a kind of monastic association; but his commendation of the cloistral life failed to secure for it any great consideration among the Christians of North Africa.

Salvianus, De Grub. Dei, viii. 4, represents the African populace as assailing the monks with scurrility and curses. "Omnia in illos pene fecerunt quæ in Salvatorem nostrum Judæorum impietas ante fecit quam ad effusionem ipsam divini sanguinis perveniret."

An important era in the history of monasticism in the Latin Church was inaugurated by the life and institutes of Benedict of Nursia. This patriarch of Latin monks, as he may be called, was born at the Umbrian town just named, in the year 480. Forsaking the educational advantages which his family provided him at Rome, he entered while yet a youth upon the hermit life. Several years were spent by hint in a solitary grot at Subiaco, a place eastward from the capital. His austerities soon acquired for him great celebrity. In response to earnest solicitations, he accepted the office of abbot in a cloister belonging to the neighborhood. His strictness not proving acceptable, he retired to his former haunt. But the numbers that came to him did not allow him to abide alone, and he was led to found several cloisters. These establishments, however, were quite overshadowed by that which arose under his auspices upon Monte Cassino, whither a vexatious opposition led him to retire. To this mountain the Benedictines of after-times were to look as to the consecrated source of the glory of their societies. A strict organic connection was not, indeed, established between the numerous cloisters which adopted the rule of Benedict and that of Monte Cassino. Each cloister was self-governed. But an intimate moral bond connected them with each other, and especially with the renowned parent society.

The mode of life prescribed by the rule of Benedict was not after the most rigid type of asceticism. A limited quantity of wine was allowed to the monks. [At the same time it was intimated that to dispense with its use would better suit their vocation (Regula, cap, xl.). Pachomius allowed no wine except to the sick (Reg. Pachom., cap. xlv.).] It lay within the discretion of the abbot, in consideration of special severity of labor, to issue rations exceeding the standard allowance. [The standard daily fare was a pound of bread, two cooked dishes, --that is, of vegetables, grain, eggs, or fish, --and one uncooked dish (cap. xxxix.).] To the weak and the sick, the eating of flesh was conceded. While it was designed to keep the monks very fully occupied, the tedium of their employment was relieved by an alternation of devotion and study with manual labor. For the more cultured, teaching became a part of the ordinary duties of the cloister, especially after Cassiodorus, in the sixth century, had given prominence to this feature. A sufficient circle of industries was embraced to secure a large measure of independence. "The monastery," says Montalembert, "like a citadel always besieged, was to have within its enclosure gardens, a mill, a, bakery, and various workshops, in order that no necessity of material life should occasion the monks to leave the walls." [Monks of the West, Book IV. Compare the language of the Rule: "Monasterium, si potest fleri, ita debet constitui, ut omnia, necessaria, id est, aqua, molendinum, hortus, pistrinum, vel artes diversæ, intra monasterium exenceantur, ut non sit necessitas monachis vagandi foras, quia omnino non expedit animabus eorum " (cap. lxvi.).] Even epistolary intercourse with the outside world could not take place, except by the permit of the abbot. [Cap. liv.] The giving or receiving of presents was under like restriction.

In the management of the cloister, the abbot, who was to be elected by the fraternity, was the chief authority. It was provided, however, that in matters of importance he should consult the assembly of the brethren. [Cap. iii.] Where the establishment was very large, deans might be appointed. [Cap. xxi.] The distribution of food, and the supervision in general of the routine of material affairs, was under the charge of an officer called the cellarer. [Cap. xxxi.] Admission to the cloister was to be preceded by a year's probation. [Cap. lviii.] If at the end of this term the candidate appeared acceptable, and was decided in his choice of the monastic life, he sealed this choice by subscribing the vow of the society. By this vow he was obligated to perpetual adherence to the monastic life, to poverty and chastity, and to unquestioning obedience to the abbot.

The strong emphasis laid upon the irrevocable nature of the vow, upon the obligation to perpetual adherence to the order, appears as a distinguishing feature of the Benedictine system. In the times preceding Benedict, it had, indeed, been counted a kind of misdemeanor to forsake an open pledge to the celibate or monastic life; but such a pledge, as Alzog remarks, [Kirchengeschichte, § 142.] was not counted strictly irrevocable. This seems to be conceded by a canon of the council of Chalcedon; for, while it ordains in general that a nun or monk who may presume to marry shall be excommunicated, it gives the bishop the prerogative to exercise mildness in reference to such. [Canon 16.] In commenting on this canon, Hefele remarks that it assumes the validity of the marriage of a monk, contrary to the later jurisprudence of the Church. [§ 200. He states also that a marriage contracted by priests was regarded as valid till the beginning of the twelfth century.]

Benedict was never ordained to the priesthood. In this he remained true to the original character of monasticism, as pre-eminently an institution for laymen. [Cassianus lays down as an approved maxim for monks, that they should keep equally clear of the ordaining hands of bishops and of the society of women: "Hæc est antiquitus patrum permanens nunc usque sententia, omnimodis monachum fugere debere mulieres et episcopos." (De Cœnob. Instit., xi. 16.)] There was a tendency, however, to depart from this feature. The number of the ordained among the monks was often increased beyond the requirements of the individual society. The journey from the cloister to the episcopal throne became of frequent occurrence. A large share of ecclesiastical work fell to the monks; and finally, in the Middle Ages, they were currently assigned a species of clerical standing.

The Rule of Benedict was unmistakably a source of far-reaching influence. It organized the ascetic fervor of the age. It became the model in a long line of training-schools, extending over the breadth of Europe, and serving as a leading factor in preparing for the Church a host of distinguished missionaries, scholars, and prelates.

3. CONTEMPORARY ESTIMATES. -- Utterances in disparagement of the superior claims of monasticism were occasionally heard. A great diversity of motives lay back of these. The frivolous and luxurious sometimes criticised because the ascetic life was looked upon as more or less of a protest or attack against their practices. The Emperor Valens complained that men made use of the monastic profession to escape their duties to the State; and there were also others who based their opposition upon the charge of detriment to the interests of the body politic. Meanwhile, a few, who approached the subject from a moral and religious stand-point, felt obliged to deny that any exceptional sanctity or worth pertains to the monastic life. To this class belonged Jovinian, Helvidius, and Vigilantius. Though a monk himself, Jovinian was disgusted with the high-sounding claims which were urged in behalf of his order, and openly declared against them. According to Jerome, who was a bitter antagonist, he maintained that "virgins, widows, and married persons, who have once been baptized into Christ, have equal merit, other things in their conduct being equal;" and that "there is no difference between abstaining from food, and enjoying it with thanksgiving." [Adv. Jovin., i. 3.] In fine, Jovinian had an excellent apprehension of the gospel truth, that sanctity is no monopoly of a peculiar mode of living, but is equally attainable in any and every legitimate vocation. Unhappily, however, his emphasis upon the equality of all genuine Christians led him into a denial, by far too sweeping, of spiritual gradations among the regenerate.

Jovinian and his fellow critics found the current against them too strong to be turned back. Monasticism moved on as a great tendency of the age, and compelled in general the acceptance and homage of Christendom. Even the considerate and sober-minded, who maintained with emphasis that the life in family relations is a good thing, were inclined to regard the life of celibacy and abstinence as a higher good, something peculiarly favorable to spiritual perfection. With men of enthusiastic temper, no terms seemed too strong to proclaim the glory of the monastic ideal. Jerome, while urging his friend Heliodorus to abandon the world, taught that piety toward parents is impiety toward God, when it stands in the way of the monastic profession. "Though thy mother," he writes, "with disheveled hair and torn garments, points to the bosom by which thou wast nurtured, though thy father should lie upon the threshold, proceed thou, treading over thy father. ... O desert blooming with the flowers of Christ! O solitude where those stones are prepared with which is built up the city of the Great King! O desert rejoicing in the society of God! What doest thou, my brother,in the city, with thy soul greater than the world? How long wilt thou abide under the shadow of roofs? How long wilt thou be confined by the dungeon of smoky cities?" [Epist. xiv., Ad Heliodorum.] In his correspondence with Roman ladies, outbursts of like enthusiasm occur; indeed, he lauds their ascetic purposes in such lavish style as might almost lead them to think, that, in embracing the monastic life, they had transcended the measure of human virtue, and had become a species of divinities. The less impulsive Ambrose also gives a glowing account of the monastic life. Speaking of the haunts of the monks in the Mediterranean islands, he says, "In those isles, thrown by God like a collar of pearls upon the sea, those who would escape from the charms of dissipation find refuge. There they fly from the world, they live in austere moderation, they escape the ambushes of this life. The sea offers them, as it were, a veil and a secret asylum for their mortifications. She helps them to win and to defend perfect continence. There every thing excites austere thoughts. Nothing disturbs their peace: all access is closed to the wild passions of the world. The mysterious sound of the waves mingles with the chant of hymns; and, while the waters break upon the shore of these happy islands with a gentle murmur, the peaceful accents of the choir of the elect ascend towards heaven from their bosom." [Hexaëm., iii. 5, as somewhat freely rendered by Montalembert.] Chrysostom gives an equally enticing description of monastic isolation from the tumults of the world. "Alone in the haven," he says of the monks, "while the tempest swells, they dwell in great tranquillity and security, and look as it were from heaven itself upon the shipwreck of other men. For they have chosen a kind of life worthy of heaven, and they obtain a state not inferior to the angelic. They have all things common, -- table, domicile, vestments. Nor is this to be wondered at, since in all there is one and the same mind. All are noble with the same nobility, servants with the same servitude, free with the same liberty." [Adv. Oppugnat. Vit. Monast., iii. 11.] In one of his homilies, the same writer exclaims, "Heaven is not so glorious with the varied choir of the stars as the wilderness of Egypt, exhibiting to us all around the tents of the monks." [Hom. in Matt., viii.] The historians of the time wrote in a kindred tone of eulogy. Rufinus, in his "Historia Monachorum," ascribes the most astonishing deeds to the hermits, crediting them, among other things, with a complete dominion over wild and ferocious beasts. Sozomen uses these unstinted terms: "Those who at this period had embraced monasticism manifested the glory of the Church, and evidenced the truth of their doctrines, by their virtuous line of conduct. Indeed, the most useful thing which has been received by man from God is their philosophy." [Hist. Eccl., 1. 12.] He credits the monks with many marvellous things, giving, for example, this entertaining account of the Egyptian monk Apelles: "He worked as a smith at the forge; and one night, when he was engaged at this employment, the devil undertook to tempt him to incontinence, by appearing before him in the form of a woman. Apelles, however, seized the iron which was heating in the furnace, and burnt the face of the devil, who screamed wildly and ran away." [Hist. Eccl., vi. 28.] Evagrius applies a like estimate to monasticism and monastics, and speaks of Symeon the stylite as "that angel upon earth, that citizen, in the flesh, of the heavenly Jerusalem." [Hist. Eccl., i. 13.] Theodoret, in his history of thirty distinguished monks, expresses unbounded admiration of the men "who in a mortal and passible body appeared impassible, and emulated the incorporeal nature." His narrative, too, is plentifully sprinkled with accounts of miracles. He describes, for example, how James of Nisibis dried up a stream by his curse, and brought premature tokens of old age upon some maidens who were washing their garments in the same, because they had failed to treat him with becoming modesty and,reverence; how he was ready to undo the curse, and answered the request of the people that the stream should be restored. "Such," remarks the historian, "was the miracle of this new Moses, which indeed was not wrought by the stroke of a rod, but by the sign of the cross." [Hist. Relig., i.] Reference might also be made to flattering tributes of emperors who deigned to consult some noted recluse on the most important affairs of the State, or enacted laws in behalf of the monastic profession. [So Justinian, in prohibiting one member of a household from placing restraint upon another wishing to enter the monastic life; (Novella cxxiii. ; Cod., I. iii. 53; I. iii. 55.)]

It should be observed, however, that some who were most free in their encomiums give evidence that many of the monks were by no means patterns of purity and self-denial. The same Jerome who exhausts rhetoric in praise of monasticism speaks of those whose excessive austerities had induced a chronic melancholy; of others who veiled a worldly heart and a luxurious life under the cloak of the solitary, and made spoil out of the too ready confidence of nobles and women; of others whose pride expressed itself in uncharitable judgments, in disdain toward their ecclesiastical superiors, and in frequenting of public places in order that their piety might be duly exhibited and admired. [See in particular, Epist. cxxv.]

4. CONTRIBUTIONS TO CHRISTENDOM. -- Augustine testified, as the result of his own observation, that the best and the worst of men were to be found among monks. A similar variety may be affirmed of the contributions of monasticism, as a whole, to the life and thought of the Church. Whatever may be its place, or lack of place, under more normal conditions of society, it unquestionably had a certain mission in the era of abnormal conditions to which the more conspicuous part of its history belongs. Its protest against worldliness, if eccentric and one-sided, was still in many instances earnest, and administered a stimulus to the religious sentiment in not a few minds. Its cloisters performed an important part, as recruiting stations for the missionary field. It brought waste districts under cultivation, and in an age of decline supplied the best examples of agriculture to be found in Europe. In times of disruption and disorganization, it provided for learning numerous sanctuaries, which even rude warriors respected, and thus served as an instrument for handing down the literary treasures of antiquity. It is not easy to over-estimate the conserving office fulfilled by the transcribers whom the cloisters educated and sheltered.

On the other hand, however, there were pernicious results growing out of monasticism. As it advanced in popularity, its greatest commendation --namely, its moral earnestness -- too often succumbed; and the cloister, which was founded as a seminary of virtue, degenerated into a school of vice. By the unhealthy isolation which it prescribed, it ministered often times to an abnormal thirst after the magical, and was instrumental in burdening the Church with overgrown lists of spurious miracles. Finally, its association of special sanctity with a special style of living tended to becloud the minds of men as respects their conceptions of Christian privilege and duty. Emphasis was unduly withdrawn from the grand idea of sanctifying the ordinary relations and business of life. Indications early appear of the judgment that only monks can be expected to be religious in a very eminent degree, and that the ordinary Christian does very well in being content with a lower standard.

General Tone of Christian Life

IV.--GENERAL TONE OF CHRISTIAN LIFE.

The preceding pages have given more than one unfavorable suggestion as to the moral and religious state of the people; and additions might be made to the adverse record, such as a notice of the excesses occurring at the feasts of martyrs, as deplored by Augustine, or a reference to the senseless fervors of the populace over the races of the circus, which divided Constantinople and other cities into warring factions. The evidences of a sad declension from the moral standard of the martyr age are plain and decisive.

Nevertheless, there are features of relief in the outlook. An exaggerated impression may easily be formed by dwelling upon the crudities and corruptions of the times. It was a mixed age. If the popular superstitions infected in a measure even those who stood highest, these in their turn gave back much, both in the may of teaching and example, that was lofty and ennobling. What a healthy tone, for example, in Chrysostom's repeated exhortations to the devout study of the Scriptures! Commenting on the language of Paul (Col. iii. 16, 17), he says, "Hearken ye, as many as are engaged in the affairs of the world, and have the charge of wife and children: how to you, too, he commits especially the reading of the Scriptures; and that not to be done lightly, nor in any sort of way, but with much earnestness." [Hom. in Colos., ix.] "We ought not," he says in another place, "as soon as we retire from the communion, to plunge into business unsuited to the communion; but, as soon as ever we get home, to take our Bible into our hands, and call our wife and children to job us in putting together what we have heard, and then, not before, engage in the business of life." [Hom. in Matt., v.] Again, how aptly he warns against the mercenary and ostentatious style of piety! "The secure storehouse of good works," he urges, "is to forget our good works. And as with regard to raiment and gold, when we ex-pose them in a market-place, we attract many ill-meaning persons; but if we put them by at home, and hide them, we shall deposit them all in security: even so with respect to our good deeds; if we are continually keeping them in memory, we provoke the Lord, we arm the enemy, we invite him to steal them away; but, if no one know of them besides Him who alone ought to know, they will lie in safety." [Ibid., iii.] Augustine, too, abounds in passages savoring of the highest spirituality. Take, as a single example, his description of the Christian sacrifice: "Our heart when it rises to Him is His altar; the priest who intercedes for us is His Only-begotten we sacrifice to Him bleeding victims when we contend for His truth even unto blood; to Him we offer the sweetest incense when we come before Him burning with holy and pious love; to Him we devote and surrender ourselves and His gifts in us. For He is the fountain of our happiness, He the end of all our desires. Being attached to Him, or rather let me say re-attached, --for we had detached ourselves and lost hold of Him, being, I say, re-attached to Him, we tend towards Him by love, that we may rest in Him, and find our blessedness by attaining that end. For our good, about which philosophers have so keenly contended, is nothing else than to be united to God." [De Civ. Dei, x. 3.] Despite the adverse tendencies of the age, truths such as these, faithfully inculcated by many earnest teachers, must have borne much good fruit.

Miracles of Saints and Relics

III.--MIRACLES OF SAINTS AND RELICS.

A notable characteristic of the whole period was the ready assent accorded to reputed miracles of relics and of living saints. Distinguished monks, in particular, were credited with the wonder-working faculty. It was not merely the unthinking populace which reposed faith in the multitude of prodigies that were reported: eminent Fathers of the Church added the weight of their testimony in favor of the supernatural power exercised through relies and pious ascetics. This may be thought to establish a certain presumption on the side of the reality of the so-called miracles. But off-setting considerations of no little weight may be enumerated: (1) In so far as heathen tendencies had come into the Church with the masses formerly devoted to heathenism, the heathen predilection for the magical and the marvelous, as contrasted with the moral, was rife. There was a certain inordinate greed for the miraculous, and demand tends to create supply. (2) Catholics had a motive to make the most of reputed miracles, in order to outshine schismatics and heretics, who also laid claim to miracles. [The language of Augustine, Tract. in Joan., xiii. 17, indicatee that the Donatists appealed to miracles with an apologetic design.] That the more thoughtless would be influenced by such a motive, may properly be taken for granted. Especially would such be incited by personal affection and interest to exalt the deeds of an associate or leader whose glory was in a manner their own. (3) There is clear evidence that pious frauds were practised with relics for the sake of gain. The same temper which devised fraudulent relies could easily be incited to devise fraudulent miracles with relics. The age, even in its theories, was none too well braced against such an artifice. The casuistry of several of the Fathers, which openly justified a certain employment of falsehood, though far from being carried out by themselves into a habit of mendacity, was not helpful to the scruples of those having less of moral ballast.

[Jerome, Comm. in Epist. ad Gal., chap. ii.; Epist.,cxii.; Chrysostom, De Sacerdotio, i.; Cassianus, Coll., xvii. 17. Angustine, on the other hand, entered a strong protest against the mendacium officiosum, and worthily accented the claims of truthfulness (Epist., xxviii., xl., lxxxii.). "To me," he says, "it seems certain that every lie is a sin, though it makes a great difference with what intention and on what subject one lies " (Enchirid., xviii.).]

(4) To challenge reputed miracles, was to stem the current of the age. The doubter was quite certain to bring opprobrium upon himself. A ready assent to every indication of the supernatural within the hallowed precincts of the Catholic Church was reckoned a great virtue. Even men of the strongest mind were powerfully influenced by the spirit of the times, and in the main were more ready to believe than to make a searching examination of the grounds of belief. Criticism being thus held in abeyance, there was a great chance of deceiving even the intelligent and the sincere. (5) Many of the miracles reported bear evident traces of being products of a crude and superstitious fancy, instead of resulting from divine discretion and power. Taken in a mass, the miracles of this age lack the profound occasion and the lofty moral accompaniments which attest the genuineness of the gospel miracles and harmonize them with the noblest conceptions of the divine government. (6) There is much power in an ardent faith, viewed simply as an exercise of mind, and apart from ally objective agency. Certain mental disorders, or even certain bodily disorders, coming specially within the range of the mind's reaction, may have been actually cured by circumstances that were peculiarly stimulating to the faith of the afflicted.

The historian, in the exercise of a sound discretion, is compelled to adopt a critical attitude upon this subject. To accept the mass of reputed miracles, would be credulity rather than faith, a surrender of reason rather than its consecration, a disparagement of the Christian system rather than a tribute to its spirituality. At the same time, to affirm absolutely that there were no miracles in these centuries, is to indulge in sheer dogmatism.