THE FLOWERS OF THE LIVES OF OUR ENGLISH SAINTS depiction of Mary, enthroned Queen of heaven surrounded by saints Lady of Paradise, I bring these flowers Plucked from this little Paradise of ours Thy prayers and thy blessinng made them grow To thee then next to God, we do them owe. THE FLOWERS OF THE LIVES OF THE MOST RENOWNED SAINTS OF THE THREE KINGDOMS ENGLAND SCOTLAND, AND IRELAND Written and collected out of the best authors and manuscripts of our nation, and distributed according to their feasts in the Calendar. BY THE R. FATHER, HIEROME PORTER Priest and monk of the holy order of Saint Benedict, of the Congregation of England. THE FIRST TOME. Printed at DOUAI with licence, and approbation of the Ordinary. M. DC. XXXII. TO THE READER. IT may pleasethee, good reader, before thou takest in hand to peruse this book, to look over the contents of the Preface, both for thy own satisfaction and mine. Farewell. TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THOMAS LORD WINDESOR. RIGHT NOBLE AND RIGHT VIRTUOUS, FOR these two titles due unto your HONOUR (one from your Ancestors, the other from your own worth and endeavours blessed by grace from heaven) these glorious Saints of our nation do willingly present their lives unto your eyes to survey them, and their prayers for your soul to profit by them. The poor Historian, who making the first trial of his pen, hath out of diverse ancient monuments gathered their faithful Legends, with as great diligence and true simplicity as he could, persuaded himself, that, than your HONOUR no man could challenge more right in the dedication of these first fruits of his labours, and that the Saints themselves would have no other Patron of their holy stories than You, who love to read them, to serve them, to imitate them: And he himself, and all of his coat and family acknowledging You their noble favourer, judged it a plain obligation to protest by this public profession, the high eslceme they have of your honourable love unto them, and the loyal endeavours they will all ways employ, to pray for your HONOVR'S eternal happiness, and daily increase in prosperity, and heavenly blessings. It may please your HONOUR to pardon this boldness, and esteem of them, as yours truly devoted, and of me the unworthiest amongst them, as o●e who thinketh it the greatest honour to be thought, Your HONOUR'S Poor servant and Beads man Br. HIEROME PORTER. THE PREFACE TO THE READER. OF all the instructions and disciplines which are found to be profitable for man's use, History, by the judgement of prudent men, is judged not to be the last, or lest. Tully the Prince of the Roman Eloquence calls it: The witness of the times, the Light of truth, the Life of memory, the Mistress of life, the Reporter of antiquity. Which being generally spoken as it doth agree also with Histories Profane, so by fare greater reason it may be applied to the Ecclesiastical, which by so much more exceedeth in worth the other, as things divine do excel the human. But no part of Ecclesiastical History is more profitable to faithful Christians, or more healthful for their souls, then that which treats of the holy lives and virtuous actions of the SAINTS, and proposeth them as patterns of perfection to be imitated in God's Church. Whence it is, that both in the old and new Testament, are mentioned the examples of holy men, that well and truly served & pleased God in this lise. What else doth Jesus the son of Syrach in his book entitled Ecclesiasticus, from the fortieth chapter to the one and fiftieth; but rehearse the praises of his worthy fore fathers, and propose their deeds to be imitated by posterity? Doth not the Doctor of the Gentiles S. PAUL by à long rehearsal ●●eb. 〈◊〉. of a list of patriarchs, Prophets, and Fathers, exhort the Hebrews to believe in CHRIST? also in the beginning of the primitive Church, Pope Clement the first divided the seven regions or First writ●● 〈◊〉 saints lives parts of the city, to seven Notaries, that each of them in his precinct, might write the passions and famous deeds of the Martyrs, to be reserved for the knowledge of posterity: and unto these Pope Fabian added seven Deacons and as many Subdeacons, that the acts of the SAINTS might be searched into and described with greater faith and diligence. These, many holy Doctors, and learned writers followed, as S. HIEROME, who with wonderful great care and eloquence, set forth the lives of the ancient Hermit's, and Fathers of Egypt: and that Organ of the holy Ghost our saint GREGORY the Great, who in the four books of his dialogues comprehendeth the lives of many holy men of Italy, and amongst the rest? filleth one whole book with à large history of our holy Father S. BENEDICT. The good 〈◊〉 the st 〈…〉 es of Lords do 〈◊〉. For, these and many other holy Doctors, Authors of SAINT'S Lives, understood well that this manner of writing was both profitable to all good Christians, and the whole Church of God. But one and not the of the causes which should move us to write and read the Lives of SAINTS, is, the increase of His honour and glory, that made them SAINTS, by adorning and enriching them with singular gifts and graces. For it is a thing most reasonable that we honour and serve them, who knew so well how to honour and serve our Lord, and that we endeavour to augment their accidental glory (for the essential we cannot) who aspired to nothing more than to amplify and dilate the glory of God. And since that Io. 12. God himself (as our Saviour saith) honoureth those that honour him, by good reason men ought to honour them that God honours. The royal Prophett David considering the lawfulness of this debt, exhorteth us, to praise God in his Saints. also it is a thing just Psal. 15●. and profitable to implore the favour and aid of our brethren who are already in possession of an assured victory, to the end that by their prayers & intercessions we may arrive at the quiet haven where they have landed, and be made partakers of their heavenly crowns and triumphs. Moreover, it is a great glory for our Mother the Catholic Church, to know the brave deeds of the illustrious children which she hath begotten. It is also a strong bucklar and bulwark against Saint's lives a buck lar against Heretics the infidels that impugn Her, and a scourge to the heretics, fallen from her, whose erroneous follies can not be better convinced, then by the pious examples of the SAINTS; for it is a fare more excellent way to teach by works then by words, and all the works of the SAINTS are holy, and all in all contrary to the fantastical imagination of Heretics. For what can more confound their Faith, which alone they would haut sufficient for, salvation, than the good works of the SAINTS, their peanance, their fasting, their abstinence, their pilgrimages, their rigid and severe mortifications of their bodies to bring them subject to the mind, all which the blasphemous mouths of Heretics do reject as vain, superstitious, and impious actions? But fare otherwise did CHRIST, his Apostles, and SAINTS teach, both by words and deeds. And what they thought and did, can by no other means be mamanifested, but by the histories of their lives. So that both to convince Heretics, and interpret the doubtful Saint's lives the interpretation of Scripture. and hard passages of holy scripture, the Lives and examples of the SAINTS do greatly help. Which made S. HIEROME call, the Life's of SAINTS, the interpretation of holy scripture; and S. AUGUSTINE say, that the holy scripture treateth not only of the commandments of God, but alsoe of the lives and manners of the SAINTS, to the end that if we chance at any time to doubt of the true sense and understanding thereof, we way receive light and instruction from that which they have done. For composing our lives and manners according to the imitation of the SAINTS, we need not fear falling into error: when we see how the supreme governor of all hath adorned them with manifest miracles, and with evident signs declared that their Lives were grateful unto him. Their lives therefore must always serve us as a mirror before our eyes therein to behold our own vices Saint's lives a pattern for our actor's. to learn to correct them, and to look upon their heroical virtues to endeavour to imitate them. There the proud shall find how to become humble, the hardhearted how they may be mollified, the cold how they may be warmed, the tepid how they may be heated, the pious and fervent of spirit how they may be more and more inflamed with the love of heaven: and in a word, all of whatsoever age, sex, condition, profession or calling, may thence reap sweet flowers of all kind of virtues, documents of wholesome peanance, and lively examples of true piety, fare more efficacious to move their minds to the practice of goodness than the force of weak words only. This S. AUSTEN affirmeth of himself. This in times past many noble Lords and Matrons of Rome did testify, who being all either staggering in their faith, or growing cold in charity, by only Hier. ad Marcell. hearing of the most holy life of great S. ANTHONY the Hermit, were inflamed with so great fervour of spirit, and fire of devotion, that abhorring their former life,, and desiring ever after to sly all sin and occa: sions of sin, they bade adieu to the vain world, and the pomps & pleasures thereof, separated themselves from the conversation and company of men, and applying their minds wholly to the divine service, followed the banner of CHRIST and his SAINTS, & crucified their own bodies together with all the vices & concupiscences thereof. But not to these only, but to many others allsoe, the same is read to have happened in the like case. Considering therefore and pondering oftentimes these things with myself, I was much grieved, that in Causes moving the: Author to write these lines. these lamentable times (wherein our miserable country is afflicted, spoilt, and oppressed by heresy) the Catholics amidst these tribulations were deprived of the great profit and consolation which they might receive by the reading of the Life's of their SAINTS; because that either their works were not written, or if they were written, it was in such Authors that now are scarce to be found, & that in Latin, which is not for the capacity of the unlearned. I was no less grieved also that the SAINTS themselves, that heretofore were the ornaments and Lights of our country, were now being unknown, deprived of their part of that due honour, which otherwise should have been done unto them, being made known. For these reasons then, and partly for mine own private exercise, but principally (gentle Reader) for thy consolation, I have here adventured (seeing no better writer would take so worthy a work in hand) to try my pen in behalf of our glorious SAINTS, and to set forth, though not as worthily as I should, yet as truly and sincerely as I could, the Life's of all the most renowned. SAINTS of our ●land of great Britain, and of the Isles thereunto belonging● and thereby I have restored again to all good Catholics my Countrymen, that, which the cruel injury of the times had violently rob them off, and sought to have buried in the darkness of perpetual oblivion. But because all works that are exposed to the public view of the world, are exposed also to the censure of diverse sorts of people diversely affected, I thought convenient to set down here some few advertisements, aswell to prevent all occasions of misconstructions or cavils, that might be taken in the reading of this treatise, as also to inform the well-inclined Reader, against some doubts or difficulties, that may occur in the perusing of the same. First then, because the most illustrious Cardinal Baronius (a man that hath otherwise well deserved of the Baronius his mistake Church of God for his Ecclesiastical history) doth, contrary to the ancient and common opinion of the world, rob the Benedictine order of one of its greatest ornaments S. GREGORY the great, and deny that ever he lived a Monk under the holy RULE of the Great Patriarch of Monks saint BENEDICT, and consequently affirms that saint AUGUSTINE and his fellowmonkes whom he sent to convert our country (who were professed of the same Monastery in Rome under saint GREGORY) were not of the same Order; lest my Reader should chance to stumble upon this new opinion, which since hath been by many famous and learned writers hissed out of the school of true History, I will here for his better instruction briefly set down some few authorities of many auncienter and later Authors than Baronius, who do all constantly assever the contrary; that is, that both S. GREGORY himself, and the Monks he sent, and made Apostles of England were indeed of the holy Order of saint BENEDICT, and not of I know not what Equitiam family, as Baronius pretends. And omitting here to draw arguments from the ancient charters & writings granted to Monasteries, even in the time of saint AUGUSTINE himself, which all evidently convince the same for a truth (as of some you may read in his life May the 26.) I will first draw into the lists of this Combat, that ornament of our Country, saint ALDELME Bishop of Sherburne, who died above nine S. Aldelme against Baronius. hundred years before Baronius was borne. In his work then which he writ in verse of the praise of Virgins & Virginity, having spoken much in commendation of out holy Father saint BENEDICT, whom he affirmeth to have been the first that ordered the exercises of Monasteries and a monastical life, he maketh this epilogue to the paragraphe of saint benedict's praises. * Benedicti▪ Huius alumnorum numero glomerantur ovantes Quos tenet in gremio facunda Britannia ciues: A * Benedicto. quo iam nobis Baptismi gratia fluxit, Atque Magistrorum veneranda caterua cucurrit. In number of HIS children gladly stand All that have place in fruitful Britain's land. From HIM to us baptismal grace did flow, To HIM our troops of Teachers we do owe. Whereby he evidently concludeth that not only the Apostles themselves, who brought the Grace of Baptism into our country, were children of saint BENE DICT, but even that all the faithful people of great Britain were Foster-childrens unto the same saint BENEDICT whose disciples had nourished & fed the infancy of their faith with the milk of CHRIST'S holy Gospel, and first brought them into the bosom of his true Church. And this same passage of saint ALDELME was quoted seven hundred years ago by Amoinus a monk of the famous Benedictine Abbey of Amoinus. Fleury in France, in a sermon of the praises of saint BENEDICT, which hath been lately set forth by joannes a Bosco in his work entitled, The Library of Fleury. This Amoinus, who is a very grave and ancient author, following the aforesaid truth embraced by our saint ALDELNE, boldly and without any difficulty affirmeth saint GREGORY the great to be a child of saint benedict's, in the prologue of his second book which treateth of the Miracles of our holy Father. Nether is he content to say it only as the opinion of his own head, but constantly assevers it a thing received by the whole English nation. For thus he speaketh in the life of saint ABBO (extant in the Library of Fleury, chapter the 4.) In the mean time came an embassage from the English nation to Fleury, desiring to have the help of some prudent and wise men. Because this nation came to the love of our holy Father S. BENEDICT, and of that See the life o● 〈◊〉 Oswald. Feb. 28. foresaid place, for two causes. One was, because Blessed Pope GREGORY having sent thither preachers of Christ's faith, more peculiarly beat into their memories the observance of the Rule of the same beloved servant of our Lord BENEDICT. And the other, because one called OSWALD, a man of great authority amongst them, having despised the world, embraced the service of Christ● in the about named Monastery of fleury. Therefore by the authority of this grave Author a witness of so great antiquity, it plainly appears, that saint GREGORY professed the holy Rule of S. BENEDICT, and that the Preachers he sent into England did the like. But lest some impertinent caviller (for such an one he must needs be that calls in question the authority of our Aldelme whom the Church approveth for a Saint) should say that these and such like writers professing the Benedictine Order themselves, are parties in the controversy, and that consequently their authority cannot decide this question; I will here briefly bring Authors of almost all other Orders and Professions who do expressly avouch that saint GREGORY and his disciples our Apostles were Benedictines. And because Baronius, the Father of the contrary opinion, Thomas Bozius. which we impugn, was a Priest of the Oratorian Congregation, let the Venerable Father Thomas Bozius Priest of the same Oratory proceed first against him. This Bozius, who was a learned, grave, and prudent writer, seemeth of set purpose to condemn the judgement of his fellow-Priest in this point, so plainly he speaketh for us in many places: especially in his fift book of his excellent work entitled, Of the signs of the Church, chap. 3. GREGORY the great (saith he) borne of a most noble race, and having thoroughly performed his office in the chiefest honours of Rome, at length despising all things, and bequeathing himself to the Order of saint BENEDICT, he made profession of a monk, and (besides others founded in other places) he built a Monastery at Rome on the side of the hill Scaurus: in that place very many did learn both solid p●etie, and heavenly learning, and addicted themselves to the Order of saint BENEDICT. Hence GREGORY drew out Augustine, Mellitus, justus, Paulinus, Laurence, and john, and other Monks, whom BEDE and others do mention: and by whom the service of Christ was dispersed and confirmed amongst the English, and mani● monasteries of the same Order builded. And in his third book of the state of Italy chap. 5. which book he writ after this controversy was set a broach by Baronius: that he might show himself, notwithstanding the arguments of Baronius, to be constant in the verity of his former opinion, he saith thus: We have showed at large in the fourth book of the Signs of the Church, sign the 6. that, by no other endeavour then that of the Roman Bishops the Christian religion wa● planted in England, Scotland, and all places seated beyond the rivers Danubius and Rhine. And in the fift book, sign 12. we have made it evident, that almost all those that employed their labours in this matter, were Monks of the Order and institute of saint BENEDICT the Italian. also in his sixth book of the same work chap. 6. he saith of our holy father saint BENEDICT, that, He drew so many followers after him, that the number of them cannot be mustered. Out of his family issued forth so many and so great men flourishing in all kind of praises and virtues, that which way soever thou turn thyself, thou mayest stand fixed in admiration. For how many Martyr● I pray you came out of his Order? How many men most holy in sanctity and miracles? How mani● great and admirable Popes? Let us produce one, able to be compared with them all, GREGORY the first, to whom the Englishmen are indebted whatsoever, goodness is amongst them. Thus we see how learnedly, solidly and constantly this Venerable man assevereth the truth, and our intent, against Baronius, who was his fellow-Priest, and the ornament and flower of the Oratorian Congregation. No man I am sure can except against his authority, who doubtless, If there had been any probability in the contrary assertion, would have been most willing to have subscribed to the opinion of so great a man as Baronius, being of his own coat and profession. To Bozius, let Onuphrius Panuinus an Augustin friar and a most diligent searcher of the Roman antiquities Onuphrius Panuimus. succeed; who in his Epitome of the Roman Bishops giveth this most clear testimony for our purpose: GREGORY by nation a Roman borne of the most ancient and noble family of the Anicij, forsaking all the Pompes of the world, entered into a Monastery of Monks under the Rule of the holy Father BENEDICT, and gave all his goods, lands houses, tenements, vineyards etc. to the Monasteries of monks, and at length built a Monastery of Monks in Rome, etc. This testimony of Onuphrius is of great authority, for living in the city of Rome, he gave himself wholly to search into Ecclesiastical antiquities, whereof he hath published many famous and profitable monuments to the world, Next to him let us hear ANTONINUS Bishop of Florence, whom the Church honoureth for a learned Antonine Bishop of Florence man and a Saint. He not only calleth our holy Father Saint BENEDICT, by a general name, Patriarch of all the Monks of the west, but peculiarly terms him the Spiritual Father of S. GREGORY, and consequently of His disciples, and our Apostles, tit. 15 cap. 12. His life replenished with virtues (saith he speaking of S. BENEDICT) is written by GREGORY in the second of his dialogues throughout the whole book: the sweetness whereof He himself allsoe sucked and lived a Monk, and an Abbot under the same RULE, before he was made Pope. thus S. ANTONINE who was a Dominican friar. But S. THOMAS of Aquin, not only the ornament of the Dominicans, S. Thomas of Aquine. but the very height and Zenith of the Divines, (who had received the first rudiments of his infancy in the Monastery of Cassine, and is said to have breathed his last gasp in an other Benedictin Abbey called, Fossa nova) being a most exquisite weigher of those things which he meant to affirm; in that golden work which he writ against the impugners of Religions, and religious men, speaketh these words for our purpose The same consideration (saith he) is to be had of blessed GREGORY, who built Monasteries according to the Rule commenced by S. BENEDICT. And Joannes de Turrecremata a Cardinal, and an other fair light of the Dominican Order, writing upon Joannes de Turrecremata. S. benedict's Rule, affirms the same in these words: Saint GREGORY confirmed the Rule of the Blessed Father BENEDICT: under which also he lived, and was a most worthy Monk, and Abbot. Thus he. And Wernerus Rolwinck in his history confirms it: GREGORY (saith he) noble by birth, nobler in virtue but Wernerus Rolwinck. most noble in sanctity, was a most worthy Monk of the Order of the most holy Father S. BENEDICT etc. But it would be to long for us in this short discourse to set down at length the words of all the grave Authors that strengthen this verity, it shall sufice to rehearse A list of Authors against Baronius. the names only of some of the chiefest writers themselves, and refer the reader to their own writings. The same therefore is avouched by JOANNES MARIANUS rerum Hispaniarum lib. 5. cap. 12. lib. 6. cap. 22. HIERONIMUS PLATUS in his second book of a Religious state, cap. 28. and 32. PETER RIBADENEIRA of the society of JESUS in his History of the lives of Saints which he writ in Spanish, in the life of S. BENEDICT. FRANCIS SVARER of the same society in his last tome or treatise of Religion, 2. book chapped. 17. FRANCIS RIBFRA in his prologue to S. Teresias life. JOANNES AZORIUS in the first part of his moral institutions 12. book chap. 22. GREGORY LOPEZ of Madera Doctor of both laws. Counsellor and judge Palatine to Philip the third, King of Spain, who in a treatise of the verity of the relics which were miraculously found in the holy mont of Granado, hath a very learned and solid discourse against Baronius in our behalf; And lastly (to omit thousand others of all orders, conditions, and professions) JOANNES DIACONUS in the history of S. GREGORY'S life, doth constanly assever the same truth, to wit, that both S. GREGORY and the Monks he sent to preach in England were professors of the holy Order of S. BENEDICT. Let us bring in the last place some witnesses of our own nation, not all that have written of this matter, for they would require a whole volume, but some whose authority is beyond all exception. How great a man in all manner of learning, and chief in the Ecclesiastical history as well of the universal Church, as of our English nation was Doctor Nicholas Sanders, it is well enough known to the world. He in the beginning Nicholas Sanders. of his history entitled, Of the English Schism, hath these words? Gregory the great scent Augustine, Mellitus, & other Monks of S. BENEDICT, to the English saxons, who brought that nation from Idolatry to Christianity, and endued Ethelbert King of Kent with the baptism of Christ. And NICHOLAS Harpsfield▪ a man no less skilful in the antiquities of England then SANDERS, in his Dialogue written against the Magdeburgenses, and in other places of his works confirms the same verity. But let the most illustrious Cardinal WILLIAM ALLEN conclude this Controversy, who in an Epistle to Athanasius an English Monk of Cassine in Italy, writeth these words: I could rehearse unto thy piety (saith he speaking of the Benedictine Order) many things out of the histories of our nation of the great revowne and Sanctity of this Order, for both Saint AUGUSTINE himself, and the other disciples of Saint GREGORY, that conucrted the country to the Faith, were all of this Order: and all the Monasteries first instituted (which Venerable BEDE mentioneth) and BEDE himself, were of the same institution; and all the Cathedral Chapters, which in after times came to be of Secular Canons, were from their beginning of the Order of S. BENEDICT. Truly the authority of these three men, who in these later times were three fair lights of our Country, and second to none in the knowledge of the Ecclesiastical history, as their works now extant do declare, who had searched into all the anncient monuments and charters of England, deserveth so much credit, that in respect of them, the opinion of any other man whatsoever, may be neglected and contemned in this point. It remains therefore confirmed by the authority of all the forenamed Authors that both S. GREGORY the great, and the Monks he sent to preach the faith of Christ in England, were all of the holy Order and institution of Saint BENEDICT. For no man I think can be so perverse (unless he be a professed enemy to the Benedictine Order) as to forsake the assertion of so many, Holy, learned, grave, wise, and prudent Writers both▪ ancient and modern, and follow the innovation and novelty of one Baronius, whose arguments against us are so weak and whose conjectures so unlikely, that the whole stream of his opinion seemeth rather to proceed from some other spring, then from the mind and learning of so great a man. It would be too long to recite them here. It shall suffice that over and above the foresaid Authors and thousands more, we have the ancient and common tradition of the whole world against Him. It is a sufficient, and more than a sufficient answer for him, that our assertion hath been always received in the Church for a truth even since the time of saint GREGORY himself, yea and that all the whole stream of antiquity doth convince him of innovation in this point. Of which his mistake I could easily pardon him, for although by seeking to rob the Benedictine family of saint GREGORY, he thought to have done a disparagement to the whole order, yet it fell out fare otherwise; for his denial of a thing that had been always before embraced for a truth in ancient times, moved many learned men that zealed the Truth and good of the Benedictine Order, to make a most exquisite and strict search into the monuments and bowels of antiquity, and finding that the opinion of Baronius was but a child that could by no means pretend any title or right of descent from Authors of former ages, they so learnedly, solidly, and manifestly made the contrary assertion appear to the world (to wit that saint GREGORY was indeed a monk of saint BENEDICT) that that which before lay, as it were, buried in antiquity and not thought on received for a truth, but not talked on, known of all, but commended but off a few, became more conspicuous to the world, more glorious to the Benedictine Order, and more famously treated off throughout the whole Church: so that the new opinion of Baronius served but as a foil more clearly to set forth the verity of saint GREGORY'S being a Benedictine Monk, and to make the world take better and more particular notice, that so great an Ornament of the universal Church had been brought up in the school of saint BENEDICT. But that we may take away all further difficulty in this matter, let great saint GREGORY himself tell us what Order he professed, for surely no man can say but he is a judge without exception, and one whose authority is able to weigh down more than I will name of such as write against us. In his commentary on the bocke of Kings, writing to his Monks and Novices, he useth in many places the express words of saint benedict's Rule and applies them to expound the holy text, or rather makes use of the text itself to confirm the precepts of the Benedictine Rule: and there, in citing the words of the same Rule, he styleth our holy Father L●b. 4. comm. in 1. P●g. c. 4 saint BENEDICT with the title of, Arctissimae vitae Magister optimus, summae veritatis discipulus eruditus, The best Master of the most strict life, and a learned Disciple of the highest verity. Whereby it is manifest that saint GREGORY in proposing here the Rule and masthership of saint BENEDICT unto his Monks, for a pattern of their life and government, doth acknowledge himself and them to be children of the same saint BENEDICT, whom he calleth his and their Best Master of strict regular life. For if he and his monks were Basilians, or Equitians or of any other Order, why doth he not rather propose unto them their Rules, and call S. BASILL and Equitius their Best Master? Were it not a thing straying and against all rule for a Superior of Franciscans or Dominicans to propose in a speech to his subjects the observance of the Rule of saint IGNATIUS, and call him the Best Master of their Religion and profession, omitting to make any mention of his own Patroness saint FRANCIS or saint DOMINICK? Surely if saint GREGORY had been a disciple unto Equitius (as Baronius feigns) he could not have been so unmindful of the Father of his monastical religion as to prefer saint BENEDICT before him, with the title of, the Best Master of regular discipline; and to propose his Rule to be observed by his Monks, and not once in all his works to make the mention of the Rule of saint Equitius. But how could he, when never any such rule hath ever yet appeared unto the world? But of his Best Master saint BENEDICT, he maketh such honourable and large mention, that having dispatched the life of saint Equitius in one short chapter of his Dialogues, he filleth a whole book with the life virtues and miracles of our glorious Father saint BENEDICT, whose Rule he confirmed & preferred before all others, to show the abundance of love which he bore unto him, whom he styleth the Best Master of his monastical life. It would be too long to set down here all the places of our holy Father's saint benedict's Rule, which this great Doctor of the Church S. GREGORY expoundeth to his Monks in the above cited Commentary on the book of Kings, It sufficeth for our purpose that he acknowledgeth S. BENEDICT for his Best Master, and proposeth his Rule to be observed by the Monks of his Monastery, For what more manifest proof can there be to show that both he and the Monks his subjects were all children of the Benedictine Order, and that saint AUGUTINE our Apostle and his fellowmonkes & preachers were professors of the same Rule, and Religion. Thus much (good Reader) I have thought good to insorme thee in this point, not because the truth of the cause I defend did want any such proofs, but because there are some so wilfully blind in the opinion of Baronius, that they do yet strive against the whole stream of antiquity and ancient Authors, and seek to maintain his novelty. Against whom (If thou chance to encounter any such) thou art here sufficiently instructed to be able to speak some thing for the truth in this matter. And do not think that in disputing this point against a man so worthily deserving of the Church as the most illustrious Cardinal Baronius, we do it with intent to lay an aspersion of disgrace on his glory, God forbidden; for the defence of the truth can disgrace no man; and especially him, who in sailing through so huge an Ocean as his Annals are, could not chose but err in some things, lest the world should have taken him for some thing above the common sort of mortal men. To conclude, we see that the greatest part of our English SAINTS are known allsoe to have been of the holy Order of S. BENEDICT, as it appears in the ensuing treatise of their lives. For the Catholic religion being first planted in England by the labours of S. AUGUSTINE & his fellowmonkes, who were all Benedictines, that holy Order was allsoe so happily rooted in the whole country, and so many learned and holy men were bred and brought up in the same, that the whole English Church was governed by the Professors thereof, and replenished with great store of SAINTS of both sexes of the Benedictine family, there being no other Rule of regular life but S. benedict's on foot in England for the space of above seven hundred years after the conversion of it to the Christian faith. No wonder then that the Benedictine Religion in England was the mother of so many and so great SAINTS. Their lives and of all others I have endeavoured to set forth briefly with as great care as I could, desiring thee for whose comfort I have taken this pains, to weigh the faults (if any thou chance to find) in the balance of good will, and so thou shalt not only encourage me to go forward in this, and a greater work than this, but allsoe oblige me to remain thy friend, desiring no other reward for my labours but thy prayers unto these glorious SAINTS, that I may in the end be made participant of their heavenly company. In the mean time wishing thee the like happiness, I rest Thy friend and Well-willer, P. H. P. APPROBATIO. Nos Frater Sigebertus Bagshaw Congregationis Anglicanae Ordinis sancti Benedicti Praeses Generalis, facultatem concedimus, ut liber de vitis sanctorum Angliae, Scotiae, & Hiberniae, in duos Tomos distributus, & à Reverendo Patre Hieronymo Portero Congregationis nostrae Monacho & Presbytero collectus & conscriptus, quem etiam ab aliquibus Paribus nostris Theologis, in quibus meritò confidimus perlectum, & approbatum novimus prelo committatur; modo licentia etiam Ordinarij accedat. Datum in Collegio nostro sancti Gregorij Duaci, die 18. Maij anno Domini 1632. Fr. Sigebertus Bagshaw Praeses qui supra. APPROBATIO. OPUS hoc de vitis Sanctorum Angliae, Scotiae, & Hiberniae, ex authenticis corum historijs collectum, duobus tomis distinctum, & Anglicè conscriptum à R. P. Hieronymo Portero ordinis nigrorum monachorum S. Patris Benedicti Congregationis Angliae: sieut ab ipsius collectoris superioribus, viris mihi familiariter notis & fide dignis, qui ipsum totum diligenter recensuerunt, accept, nihil continet à fide aut bonis moribus dissentaneum, nec quidquam quod ullum possit offendere, sed potius totum est ad devotionem & pictatem in lectoribus catholicis excitandam idoneum, ideoque praelo utiliter dari posse censui. Duaci 19 Maij 1632. Mathias Naveus S. Theol. Doctor & lib. censor Episcopalis. A summary of the king's Privileges PHILIPPIS IU Hispaniarum & Indiarum Regis Catholiei authoritate, concessum est Reverendo in Christo Patri Leandro de sancto Martino Priori Benedictinorum Conuentus S. GREGORII Duaci, & assignatis suis, per quemcunque typographum iuratum, tipis mandare librum, cui titulus est; The lives of the most renowned Saints of England, Scotland, and Ireland, collectore R. Patre Hieronymo Porter Congregationis Angliae Benedictino etc. Aliisque cuiuscunque conditionis interdictum est intra decennium, praedictum librum imprimere, imprimive facere, aut vendere, sub poenis originali diplomate contra delinquentes expressis. Datum Bruxellis 25. junij M. DC. XXXII. De mandato Regis Ely Ottignies. PRimum hunc tomum vitarum Sanctorum Anglie, à R. patre Hieronymo Portero Conuentus nostri Sancti Gregorij monacho & presbytero, ex authenticis historijs concinnatum, totum accurate perlegi: nihilque in eo esse testor, quod meo iudicio non sit verae fidei, bonisque moribus consentaneum, & Lectorum piae devotioni valde accommodatum. In fingulis enim historiis Sanctorum operam dedit, ut & veritas gestorum prudenti examine libraretur; & non tam miracula (quibus seruorum suorum sanctitatem Deus abunde testatus est) quàm virtutes & gesta devotionis plena, stylo claro, facili, & inaffectato exprimeret; magisque Lectoris voluntatem ad imitationem, quam intellectus in admirationem pertrahent. Ita sub maiorum & melius sapientium iudicio censui 24. julij. 1632. Fr. Leander de S. Martino Sacrae Theol. Doctor, Prior conventus Benedictionorum S. Gregorij Congregationis Angliae, & linguae sanctaein Academia Duacena Regius professor. In laudem Authoris & Operis. EPIGRAMMA. PRodijt ingenij tandem faetura beati, Et gestit solem nata videre nowm. Non haec maiorem licet exoptare: minorem Quaerere, vix magnum non scelus esse potest. Fallimur: exciderat, quod te, Portere, parente Haec proles primum coepit inire diem. Ergo maiorem licet expectare: minorem Quaerere, vix magnum non scelus esse potest. Fr. Leander de sancto joanne, M. B. A TABLE OF THE LIVES OF SAINTS CONTAINED IN THIS FIRST TOME, According to the Order of the Months, and days of their feasts. JANVARY. 5. THE life of S. Edward King, and Confessor. 1. 7. The life S. Cedde Bishop and Confessor. 35. 8. The life of S. Wulsine Bishop and Confessor. 39 9 The life of S. Adrian Abbott. 42. The life of S. Brithwold Bishop and Confessor, 45. 12. The life of S. Bennet Biscop Abbott and Confess. 46. The life of S. Alured Abbot and Confessor. 56. 13. The life of S. Ke●tigerne Bishop and Confess. 61. The life of S. Peter Abbot. 69. 15. The life of S. Ceolulphe King and Monks. 70. 16 The life of S. Furseus Abbot and Confess. 72. 16. The life of S. Henry Hermitt. 78. 18. The life of S. Deicola Abbot and Confess. 82. 19 The life of S. Walstan Bishop of Worcester. 84. 21. The life of S. Ermenburg Queen and Abbess. 100 22. The life of S. Theorithgid Virgin. 101. 24. The life of S. Cadock Bishop and Martyr. 102. 26. The life of S. Balthild Queen and Nun. 104. 28. S. Sexulphe Bishop, and Confess. 111. 29. The life of S. Gyldas Abbot and Confess. 112. 30. The life of S. Birstan Bishop and Confessor; 114. 31. The life of S. Wilgis' Monk and Confess. 116. FEBRVARY. 1. THE life of S. Brigitt Virgin of Kyldard. 118. 2. The life of S. Laurence Archbishop of Canturbury. 126. 3. The life of S. Wereburg Virgin and Abbess. 131. 4. The life of S. Gilbert of Sempringham Confess. 135. 6. The life of S. Jnas' King and Confessor. 142. 8. The life of S. Elfled Virgin and Abbess. 147. 9 The life of S. Thelian Bishop and Confessor. 149. 10. The life of S. Trumwine Bishop and Confess. 152. 11. The life of S. Cedmon Monk and Confessor. 153. 13. The life of S. Ermenild Queen and Abbess. 157. 18. The Translation of S. Edward King and Martyr. 159. 20. The life of S. Vlrick Confessor and Hermit. 162. 23. The life of S. Milburg Virgin and Abbess. 173. 24. The life of S. Ethelbert King and Confessor. 179. 25. The life of S. Walburg Virgin and Abbess. 183. 26. The life of S Milgith Virgin and Nun. 187. 28. The life of S. Oswald Bishop and Confessor. 188. 28. The life of S. Aydo Abbot and Confessor. 200. MARCH. 1. THE life of S. Swibert Bishop and Confessor. 202. 1. The life of S. David Bishop and Con●ess. 218. 2. The life of S. Chad Bishop and Confessor. 224. The life of S. Will●ick Priest and Confess. 129. 3. The life of S. Winwaloke Abbott and Confess. 231. 4. The life of S. Owen Confessor and Monk. 2●5. 5 The life of S. Pyran Bishop and Con. 236. 6. The life of S. Kyneburg Queen and Abbess, and of saint Kineswide, and Tibbe Virgins. 23 7 The life of S. Esterwine Abbot and Con. 241 8. The life of S. Felix bishop and Con. 244 11. The life of S. Bosa bishop and Con. 245 12 The life of S. Gregory the great, Pope and Confessor. 24 71. The life of S. Patrick Bishop Apostle of Ireland. 270 18. The life of S. Edward King and Martyr. 292 20 The life of S. Cuthbert Bishop and Confessor. 229 20 The life of S. Herebert Priest and Hermit. 322 23. The life of S. Edilwald Priest and Anachorite. 324 25. The life of S. Alfwold Bishop and Confessor. 325 APRIL. 3. THe life of S. Richard Bishop of Chicester, 327 6. The life of S. Elstan Bishop of Wilton. 340 9 The life of S. Gisla and Rictrude Virgins. 341 11. The life of Guthlake Monk and Confessor. 343 15. The life of S. Paternus Bishop and Con. 356 17 The life of S. Stephen Abbot and Con. 357 19 The life of S. Elphegus Martyr Archbishop of Canturbury. 361 21. The life of S. Anselme Archbishop of Canturbury. 380 24. The life of S. Mellitus Bishop and Con. 399 24. The life of S. Egbert Priest and Monk. 402 30. The life of S. Erkenwald Confessor Bishop of London. 407 MAY. 1. THe life of S. Asaph Bishop and Confessor. 412 6. The life of S. Eadbert Bishop and Confessor. 413. 7. The life of S. john of Beverley Bishop and Confess. 415. 8. The life of S. Wyre Bishop and Conf. 421. 11. The life of S. Fremund King and Martyr. 424. 15. The life of S Dimpna Virgin and Martyr. 426. 15. The life of S. Brithwine Abbott and Conf. 432. 19 The life of S. Dunstan Archbishop of Canturbury. 434 20. The life of S. Ethelbert king and Martyr 456 21. The life of S. Godrick Hermite and Conf. 4●2 25 The life of S Aldelme bishop of Sherbune. 487 26. The life of S. Augustine Apostle of England, first Archbishop of Canturbury. 496 27. The life of S. Bede Priest and Monk. 523 JUNE. 5. THE life of S. Coniface Apostle of Germany, bishop and Conf. 535 6. The life of S. Gudwall bishop. and Conf. 550 7. The life of S. Robert Abbot and Conf. 554 8. The life of S. William Archbishop of York. 559 9 The life of S. Columba Abbot and Con. 56● 10 The life of S. Margaret Queen of Scotland. 564 15 The life of S. Eaaburg Virgin. 569 17 The life of S. Botulph Abbot and Conf. 571 22 The life of S. Aiban first Martyr of great Briiaine. 574 22. The Passion of S. Amphibalus Priest and Martyr. 587 23 The life of S. Etheldred, or Audery queen and Abbess, 593 24 The life of S. Bartholomew Priest and Monk. 610 25 The life of S. Adelbert Deacon and Confessor. 612 A preparatory prayer before you read the life of Saints. MOST dear Saviour of our souls, who hast endowed thy Saints with so many and so great gr●●es and virtues, to serve us sinners for a light and guide amidst the darkness of this false world, grant us grace that this holy reading of their lives may so inflame our h●●●ts, that we may follow and imitate the traces of their gl●●●ous examples, that after this mortal life, we may be ●●●e worthy to enjoy their most desired company in hea●●● there together with them to praise and glorify thee ●●●uer. Amen. An other Prayer after the same reading. O LORD who being thyself the true Light o● the world, and only Way to heaven, hast nevertheless out of thy superabundant goodness, ordained the Saints as so many heavenly torches, t● conduct us happily through the night of this dangerous life, to the port of Salvation; Vouchsafe out of t●● same goodness, to imprint an ardent desire in our hear●● by this sacred reading, faithfully to imitate thy Sainc●● and follow the path of virtues which they have taught us. And thou o glorious saint N. * Name the saint, whose life you have read. obtain us the gr●ce by thy holy prayers and merits, that we may o●● day be made partakers of thy eternal glory in heaue● Amen. THE LIFE OF THE GLORIOUS KING S. EDWARD COMMONLY CALLED THE CONFESSOR. JAN. 5. Written by Alured Abbot of Rhievall 1164. THE AUTHORS' PREFACE. BEING to write the lise of the glorious King, and most beloved servant of the king of kings S. EDWARD, we will take our beginning out of the words of S. PETER Prince of the Apostles, who admiring the wonderful vocation of the Heathen Centurion to the Christian faith, crieth out: In very deed I perceive that God is not an accepter of persons; but in every nation he that seareth Act. 10. v. 34. him, and worketh justice is acceptable unto him. For in every people, order, degree, and dignity our Lord knoweth who are his servants, & according to his divine will he taketh pity on whom he thinketh good, Rom. 9 and showeth mercy to whom he pleaseth Neither can it be said, that poverty of its own nature doth give holiness of life, nor that riches do take it way: obscurity, & lownes of state maketh not a man perfect, nor nobility of condition a reprobate; neither doth liberty shut up, nor servitude lay open the gates of Paradise unto us. Our first Patriarch Abraham whose wonderful faith, & unparalleled obedience shined in the abundant poslession of worldly means, is highly commended Abraham rich and virtuous. loseph most chaste for a man excelling both in perfection of life, & abounding in great store of wealth and riches. joseph being by King Pharaoh ordained lord & master of all Egypt, shown a perfect example of chastity to the whole world. What manner of man holy Job was in the job a mirror of patience. prosperity of his wealth, the loss of it gives sufficient testimony, whom the tedious infirmity of his body, the wicked temptation of his wife, and the shameful reproaches of his own friends endured with an unmatchable patience have rendered far more excellent. No man was richer than king David, & no man more Sainctly, no man more exalted to the height of dignities, and no man more depressed An union of royal ●●e and saintetie. to the rules of humility: he was buried in the midst of infinite treasure, and yet amongst the friends, and favourites of all mighty God he was preferred before many others, and held to be a man according to Gods own heart. Let no man therefore wonder if we g●ue unto our glorious Edward the titles both of KING, and SAINT; who is known to have been rich in poverty, and poor in riches, sober in his delights, & delighting in sobriety, making his purple robes the badge, of humility, and under the glory of his royal crown giving a true example of the contempt of the world, as will plainly appear by the history of his life, which followeth. I. WHEN KING ETHELRED by the Earl Thoretts' daughter had King Ethelred his Father received his son Edmond surnamed Jronside, and Alfred by queen Ensnie his second wife, EDWARD yet enclosed in his mother's womb was preferred before them both by the disposition of him that worketh all things according to the counsel of his divine will, and by the prerogative of his supreme power governeth the kingdoms of men disposing them to whom he pleaseth. For a Council of the Lords spiritual and temporal being assembled before the King to treat of the state of the Realm (which by horrible forewarning signs was threatened with future destruction) some were of opinion that for the better establishing thereof, Edmond should be declared h●●re to th● crown, because of his invincible valour, & strength of body: others judged it a safer way to prefer ALFRED, thereby to gain the power of the Normans, in that Richard then Duke of Normandy was h● uncle But the high and mighty ruler of all things p 〈…〉 t and f●ture, foreseeing the short life of the one, and the immature death of the other, turned all their voices and consents to the ch●ld●nborne; and moved them to elect for their king an insant ●●●vard 〈…〉 as yet ●on●ay●e● in the weak cloisters of his mother's womb: s●e th●t the whom the land did not yet enjoy was ordained Lord & Gorernor of the land; and the nobles, and Peers with great joy did swear allegiance unto him of whose birth they were ignorant and uncertain. But this uncertainty was shortly after taken away by the happy and wished birth of king EDWARD, soon after which the fu●●rie of the Danes cruelly invaded the realm of England, spoiling and destroying a great part thereof with fire, and sword, which moved king Ethelred to send the queen with her children into Normandy out of the reach of the Danish cruelty, where our princely EDWARD S. Edward his virtues being a boy. lived in his uncle's house a child among others his equals, but always free from such vices as that age is wont to be inclined unto. He was chaste of body, sparing of his speech, plain in his actions, & pure in his affections. He took great delight often to frequent Churches, more often to be busied in his prayers, to be present at the holy sacrifice of Mass, to visit Monasteries, & religious houses, and to enter into a strict league of friendship particularly with such monks whom true virtue, and Religion made worthy to be loved above others. II. IN THE mean time the enemy's sword committed such outrage The Barbarians waste England. within the realm of England, that all places were filled with slaughter, and destruction, nothing appeared that was not masked with the grim vizard of sorrow, lamentations, clamours, and desolation. Churches were burnt, Monasteries pulled down, and Priests chased out of their seats, compelled to lie in secret, and desert places to bewail the common miseries of their country. When among others the venerable man BRITHWOLD Bishop of Winchester as full of agony as pity, grief, and sorrow could make a pious heart, retired to the Monastery of Glassenburie putting his whole confidence in prayers and psalms to almighty God. Where as in great abundance he poured out his devotions washed in tears for the delivery of the kingdom and people out of these calamities, at length he burst out into such like words saying: And thou, 〈◊〉 Lord, how long? ●s. 12. 43. 87. 〈◊〉. 3. how long dost thou turn away thy face? dost thou forget our miseries & afflictions? They have slain thy Saints, destroyed thy altars, and there is none that can redeem us, nor bring health unto us. I know, o Lord, I know that whatsoever thou hast done unto us, is by thy just judgement done. But what! wilt thou for ever cast us off? and wilt thou not begin to be Psal. 76. more pacified as yet? When when (o my Lord God) shall there be an end of these calamities? Or will the sword of thy wrath for ever exercise his cruelty, and make a general slaughter among us? A vision shown to Bish. Birth would. At length amidst these prayers, and tears a sweet slumber seized on his sorrowful senses, wherein, as it were, in a dream he beheld the B. Apostle S. PETER seated in an eminent place, and king Edward clad in Royal ornaments standing before him, with an amiable countenance in most comely and decent manner, unto whom the holy Apostle (having first with his own hands consecrated, and anneiled him King) piously imparted some admonitions and precepts tending to the health and salvation of his soul, & above all things recommending unto him a single life, he revealed how many years he should reign and govern the Kingdom. The Bishop much amazed at this strange vision, humbly craved of the Apostle to make known the mystery thereof unto him; desiring withal to understand of the present state of the realm, and to know his sentence touching the end of their instant miseries. To whom the Apostle with a pleasing countenance: This kingdom (said he) is our lords who will reign over the sons of men: he it is that transferreth Dan. 2. kingdoms and chaingeth Empires, and to punish the sins of the people giveth the government to an hypocrite. By sin the people have offended our Lord, who hath delivered them captive into the hands of the Gentiles; and their hateful enemies, and strangers have obtained sovereignty over them. But God will not forget to be merciful, neither in his ire will he contain his mercy from you. And it shall Psalm. 76. come to pass after thy death, that our Lord will visit his people, & and work their redemption. For he hath selected a man according to his own heart, who in all points shall fulfil his will, & pleasure, and who having by my assistance obtained the kingdom of England shall set a period to the Danish fury. He will be acceptable unto God, grateful to men, dreadful to his enemies, loving to his country, profitable to the whole Church, and at length shall conclude his worthy life with a most blessed and happy end. But as the Bishop A Worthy commendation of king Edw. enquired further of Saint EDWARD'S posterity: The kingdom of England (answered the holy Apostle) belongeth unto God himself, who after this will provide a king according to the divine ordinance of his own will and pleasure. III. BUT as yet the fury of this Danish tempest continued, and the waves thereof were exalted to the height of an insulting and imperious pride, in so much that the common miseries of the land were much increased by a civil discord, & inward jarring of men's minds amongst themselves, no man knowing whom to trust with the secrets of his heart. The whole Island was full of traitors, no true faith to be found, no friendship but was scared with suspicion, no common conference but was cloaked with deceitful dissimulation. Till at Canutus king of the Danes a Christian of great piety chosen king of England ann 1016. the lawful heirs being rejected for the unjust murder of S. Edw. the martyr, halfbrother to Ethelred. length the treason of the country & the craft of the enemy preuay●●ed so fare, that king Ethelred being dead, most part of the realm forsaking the lawful heirs of their late king, gave up obedience unto Canutus that wrongfully had invaded, & cruelly spoilt the kingdom: and the mighty Edmond Jronside, when he had valiantly overthrown the Danes in three several battles, being at length by the treachery of Eadrick Duke of the Mercians cruelly murdered, his little children were taken out of their cradles & delivered to the pitiless fury of the Barbarians to be slain. And ALFRED S. EDWARD'S elder brother ●●omeing into England with a navy of twenty five ships, hoping ●o bring some relief unto these broils, and calamities, was slain ●y the straying and wicked treachery of GODWIN Earl of Kent, & ●ll his army murdered in most cruel manner, by the command of the said Godwin, and by the bloody hands of his faithless friends, and countrymen. After whose death S. EDWARD wholly destitute of all human assistance lived as a man miserably banished from his country, kingdom, and royalty: he much feared to fall into the snares of wickedness, and doubted lest he should either be falsely betrayed by his own servants, or purchased for the butchery by his enemies. Therefore putting his chiefest confidence in the almighty he humbly prostrated himself before the court of heaven, & poured out his devout prayers, & lamentations after this manner: Behold (o my Lord God) how in myself I am destitute of all help, & comfort, my nearest friends and kindred have forsaken me, my very neighbours, and confederates are ready to stand against me, and now that my Father hath finished his manifold labours with death, the cruelty of my enemies, and traitorous subjects hath devoured my brethren, and deprived me of their company, my nephews are cast into banishment, Can●tus had married his mother. & my own mother careless of my safety, is given in marriage to the only enuier and destroyer of my glory. And thus desolate and lest alone without comfort they are not yet satisfied, but thirst also for my blood. But left to thee (o Lord) poor, and miserable I trust thou wilt be an aid and secure to thy poor orphan. In times past thou didst wonderfully preserve King Edwin delivering him out of the jaws of death, and establishing him in his kingdom. Thou didst restore that bright ornament of England S. OSWALD from a miserable banishment to the royalty of his crown, & give him conquest over all his enemies by the virtue of the holy Cross. If now in like manner thou will voutchafe to be my helper, and keeper and settle me in my Father's kingdom, I vow ever to acknowledge thee for my God, and thy B. Apostle S. PETER for my Patron, whose most sacred Relic; at Rome I promise to visit under thy good leave, protection S. Edward voweth a pilgrimage to Rome. and government. From this time ever after being made stronger in faith, and livelier in hope, confidently expecting he expected the will of our Lord, referring himself wholly into the hands of his sacred providence and disposition. four TILL AT length when death had rob Canutus of theuse of the world, & cut of his sons before they were ripe, the English freed thereby from the hard yoke of the Danes elected EDWARD for their king, and caused him to be consecrated and anointed in He is crowned in the year 1043 by means of Count Godwin, as saith Baronius. honourable manner at Winchester by the hands of Eadis●●● Archbishop of Canturbury. Then the Clergy began again to flourish, and shine with wisdom and sainctetie, abbeys, and Monasteries excelled with all kind of religious discipline, Churchmen performed their offices in peace, and the commonalty their duties in order. The very earth itself seemed to rejoice hereat, and send forth fruit in more abundance, the air became more healthful, and even the waves of the sea more patiented and temperate. And foreign kings and Princes strucken with admiration at so sudden a change were glad with this so great a king to enter into a firm league of peace and friendship, only Denmark desiring revenge, and breathing The royal virtues of S. Edward nothing but slaughter still threatened the utter ruin and destruction of the English nation. But amidst all these joys the blessed king was nothing puffed up with pride of humane glory at his prosperity, nor terrified with his threatened ruin, but always measuring his greatness by his goodness, he proposed unto himself a devout manner of life, appearing equal to his domestics, humble to Religious men ●nd Priests, grateful to his people, compassionate to the distressed, ●nd bountiful to the poor. He used no exception of persons, for ●he poorest and humblest man's cause as well as th● richest he ever ●eighed in the balance of true justice, and pleaded for them both ●ith equity, always showing himself a pitiful father unto poor orphan's, and a righteous judge unto widows. He granted whatsoever was asked him, and what was given he received with silence. No man ever beheld him either puffed up with pride, or grown ●●erce with anger, or blemished with gluttony. It is unspeakable ●ow great a despiser he was of money, for he vever was found to be ●yther sadder in the loss, or merrier in the possession thereof. He was of a comely and mean stature of body, nether very gross, nor ●ery slender, of a fair sanguine complexion, his beard and hair ●rowne. ●. AS ONCE he took his rest in bed the chamberlain came in, See the wonderful contempt of money, & the rare clemency of so great a king. ●●d opening the chest where the King's treasure lay, put therein such monies as he had brought, and departed forgetting to shut it again. Which one of the grooms espieing came to the box, and ●auing taken out as much money as he thought good, went away ●ith it, not knowing or suspecting the King to be so near; ●nd presently (having belike disburdened himself of that prey) ●e returned, and acted the like offence again, having still the King himself for his spectator. Which as the third time he attempted, the King (foreseeing by the spirit of prophecy that the Treasurer was at hand) believe me, good fellow (said he) thou art too importune, and unreasonable, take what thou hast gotten and be ●one, for if Hugoline (that was the Chamberlains name) come and ●●ke thee, he will not leave thee one penny of thy get. The ●ellow suddenly fled, and was scarce out of the doors when the Chamberlain came in, who finding some store of money taken ●way, was much afflicted, and trembled with very fear; his loud ●ries and sighs bewrayeing the anguish, and fury of his mind: whereat the king rose up, and seeming ignorant of what had happened demanded the cause of his great disquiet, which being declared, he said: Hold thy peace, and rest content, for it may be he ●hat took it hath more need of it then we, let him, (on God's ●ame) enjoy it, that which remains is sufficient for us. VI THE NOBLES and Peers of the Realm fearing so worthy a stock should perish without fruit, were solicitous to have a His care to ●●ser●e c●●a●tetie. successor from this holy King, and to that end they very earnestly dealt with him to persuade marriage. Whereto the King much amazed was very loath to consent, fearing lest the beloved treasure of his chastity conserved but in the weakness of a fray e●vessell might easily he dissolved with such a heat. But what should he do? it he did obstinately resist their desires, he feared to discover, and betray the sweet secret of his holy purpose: on the other side, by consenting to their petitions he mistrusted the utter ruin of h●s vowed chastity. At length judging it the safer way to yield to their earnest importunities, he recommended his chastity unto God his only hope and refuge in distress, saying; O good Lord, thy mercy h●eretofore preserved the three children from harm in the midst of the Chaldeans fiery furnace. By thee holy joseph leaving his cloak in the hands of the adulterous woman, escaped with the just Dan. 3. Gen. 39 Dan. 13. Iu●ith. 12 title of chastity. By thy virtue the incomparable constance of Susanna triumphed over the wicked allurements of the dishonest Elders; and holy Judiths' virginity under the wings of thy safeguard could receive neither taint, nor blemish from the wicked minded Holos●rnes. Behold (o Lord) how I thy poor servant, & the son of thy handmaid, and after a fashion an honourer, and lover of thee, and thy Virgin-mother do humbly beseech thy aid and assistance that so I may receive this Sacrament of marriage, that I may not incur●e the hazard of my vowed chastity. Therefore forcing himself Marrieth against ●is will. unwillingly to consent to his nobility, he took to wife Edith the daughter of Count Godwin This Godwin was a man of great wealth, but of a notable subtlety, a traitor both to the King and country, who trained up in the school of deceit, was accustomed so craftily to dissemble in all things, that he could win the people's consent to any manner of seditious faction at his pleasure. And therefore Edith his wife a virtuous brach of a wicked stock. to his daughter was applied this verse as a proverb: Sicut spina rosam genuit Godwinus Editham: which may be thus englished: From rugged thorn as springs the sweetest rose, So EDITH fair from wicked GODWINgrowes For she was a holy Virgin whom (it seems) Chr●st our Saviour had prepared for his beloved EDWARD, infusing into her, from the very cradle, the love of chastity, hate of all vices, and a singular affection to virtue. By continual reading and labour of her hands she avoided idleness, and secured herself from the stains of lascivious thoughts, and the danger of youthful conferences provoking there●nto. Therefore this godly couple being met together agreed both ●n one holy purpose vowing always to spend their lives in chastity, ●udging it expedient to admit no other witness of this faithful promise, He covenanteth with his wife to live cast. than God himself. So that she became a wife in mind but not in body, he a husband in outward consent but not in act. A matrimonial love remained between them without the act of matrimony, & an union of two chaste affections without any prejudice to virginity. He was loved but not corruptedly, she affected but left un touched: and like unto an other Abisag she warmed the king with love, but did not provoke him to lust; delighted him with obedience 3. Reg. 1. but did not make him effeminate with unchaste desires. VII. BUT THE good name, and fame of queen Emme his mother Thomas Rudburn. mon. winton. in chron. Queen Emme his mother wrongfully accused of incontinency. was branded with many false reports by the instigation of Robert A chbishop of Canturbury and Godwin Earl of Kent who jointly accused her before the king of diverse crimes and especially that, under colour of private devotions, she used the company of Alwin Bishop of Winchester with more than honest familiarity, to her own great dishonour, and the king's disgrace. And they aggravated the matter with many vehement exclamations that such offences so scandalous, ought not to be left unpunished, for that it would be an instance for others to commit the like. With these, and such like speeches the good king (whose pious simplicity was not acquainted with the subtleties of their falsehood) was persuaded to give up the whole examination of the matter to Robert the Archbishop, who presently caused a Council of other Bishops to be assembled at Winchester, and imprisoned Queen Emme in the Monastery of Werwell, and Alwine at Winchester. In the mean time the miserable Queen (more grieved at the infamy raised against Alwine then at her She complains to the council of Bishops. own) made her complaint before the Bishops that she was grievously oppressed, and wronged by the malicious detractions of her adversaries, earnestly craue●ng some help and redress from them; and withal showing a great readiness on her part, to make known her innocence by any reasonable means and conditions as should be thought convenient; when the Bishops with the king had easily composed all these troubles, if Robert of Canturbury had not so vehemently withstood their good endeavours by aggravating his malice against her, and heaping together many fal●e crimes to her infamy, in so much that she was content for the satisfaction of the world, and clearing the imputation of her innocence to purge herself with as sharp a trial, as any that is recorded; by undergoeing the over hard law of Ordalium, which is to pass over hit burning irons barefooted; and for this end the king drawn thereunto by their importunity, assigned her a day to be tried at Winchester in S. SWITHUNES' Church, whither she came the night before, and employing She cleareth herself miraculously all that time in prayer at his tomb, she devoutly recommended herself & her cause unto God, and his B. Saint: And on the morrow in presence of the king her son, many of his Nobles, and Peers, and an infinite number of people of all sorts and sexes, being led between two Bishops, clad in a mean and simple garment, her eyes and hands lifted up towards heaven, she passed over nine glowing red hit shares barefooted, without any feeling of hurt, useing this speech to her leaders, as not knowing she was past the danger: O Lord when shall I come to the place of my purgation? But understanding she had already walked upon, and over those fiery instruments, she presently looked back, and then first beheld the burning shares, when strait falling upon her knees with tears she gave thankes to her deliverer: whereby she recovered both the love and her ancient estate of the king, who now seeing the manifest proofs of her integrity, cast himself down at his mother's feet humbly desiring pardon for his oue● much facility in permitting her spotless innocence to be so hardly tried, and exposed to the peril of such an infamy: and the better to expiate this unadvised fault▪ of his, he willingly submitted himself to receive some few blows with a rod on the bare back given by the hands of the Bishops, and his weeping mother. But the nine ploughshares were A rare example of humility in S. Edw. in memory hereof reserved in the Bene●ic●ine Monastery of Winchester, and for the better recording of the same, the king gave three manors, the Queen nine (according to the number of shares) and Bishop ALWINE nine others to the said minster for ever, and enriched the same with many fair ornaments. VIII. AS ONCE on the feast of Pentecost the King was present at the divine mysteries of Mass, in time of the elevation of the sacred body of Christ, he began on a sudden (always observing his princely gravity) to show some more than usual alacrity and mirth in his looks, and countenance, which he expressed with a grave, and moderate smiling to himself: whereat all that were present began to admire, and not without cause, knowing that to have befallen him contrary to custom. And therefore Mass being ended some of his most familiar friends earnestly entreated him to declare the reason. He ever endowed with a sincere simplicity, plainly confessed the truth, saying: The His visiot of the Danish kings destruction Danes met and agreed together with their King to enter again into the course of their ancient f●rie and malice, to disturb, and overthrew that peace which the merciful goodness of God both bestowed upon us; and being ignorant of his divine justice that hath scourged and chastised our offences, they attribute it to themselves, extolling their own strength, and saying: Our hands are mighty, and not our Lord hath wrought all Deut. 32. these things. And because the almighty being angry with our forefathers did deliver us to the merciless power of these Danes, they referring this to the virtue of their own forces, judge it an easy matter to bring us to the like miseries again, not understanding that the same God that gives the wound, gives allsoe a salve to heal it, and the same that mortifieth, reviveth, Ibidem. sendeth to hell, and reduceth from hell again. For this very▪ day, the King of Denmark having gathered a huge army together, finding the winds to blow with his desires, commanded a navy to be prepared. And now the ships were ready to be committed to the sails, and the sails to the winds, when the wicked king whose hasty ambition not able to be contained within himself, as out of a little boat he entered into his ship, his feet slipped out, and he between both fell headlong into the sea, in whose merciless depth, and swelling waves he was instantly devoured and swallowed up. And thus by his sudden death, the Danes and English were both set free from sin, and danger. And I hope in our Lord God, and his most sweet mother, that during my time their bloody endeavours against us shall never take effect. This it is which by the revelation of CHRIST I did both see, and know, and at which I seemed to rejoice and smile. Our Lord made me rejoice, and whosoever heareth this may rejoice The truth of his vision proved. with me. The time and hour being recorded, spies were sent into Denmark who found all to be most true, and to have happened at the same instant, as it was revealed unto this B. King. IX. THESE things thus prosperously succeeding, the king not unmindful of his vow of pilgrimage, and calling to mind the great benefits he had received at the hands of all mighty God, who His care to perform his vow. had enriched his poverty, exalted his humility, and ennobied his low estate with glory, made diligent preparation for the performance of his promise, with money to defray the charge o● his ●ourney, & rich guilts to bestow at Rome. And therefore having assembled the Noble● and Peers of the Realm, he made a speech before them of the state of his kingdom, and of his pilgrimage to the sacred shrines of the Apostles, in this manner. You cannot have forgotten His speech to his nobles. how by the cruel invasion of barbarous people into our inheritance, we have been made a scorn to our neighbours, and a scoffing mockery to those that are round about us. For some being slain, others oppressed with the hard yoke of an ignominious slavery, they left neither honour nor glory to our nation. At length my father being dead, my brethren murdered, my nephews cast into banishement, fortune so highly favoured our enemies in all things, that indeed it seemed to me that there was no remnant of any hope left, that promised any redress of our miseries. When contrary to all expectation yielding myself up to the mercy of almighty God, and putting my whole confidence in him alone, I vowed my pilgrimage to the sacred tombs of the Apostles in Rome, and committed myself from thence forth to his divine protection, and disposing. And he like a pitiful Father gave such ear unto my supplication, and was so fare from disdaining my prayers, that he freed me from all blemish of scorn, and restored me from an exiled life to the quiet possession of my father's kingdom. Moreover to the increase of my gloriè he added heaps of worldly riches, and ennobled all the rest with many spiritual gifts, and graces from heaven. He it was, that without any bloodshed brought our rebels under subjection, made us triumph over our enemies, and composed all our disjointed affairs, and inward broils with a most amiable and desired peace. Now (God forbidden) that we should prove ungrateful for such, so many, and so great benefits; but rather being delivered out of the hands of our enemies, let us endeavour to obey and serve him in all truth and justice, following the Royal Prophet's counsel, that saith: Make vows, and render them unto your Lord God. Therefore it behoves you together with Psalm. me to determine, and ordain after what manner this realm may be governed dureing the time of my pilgrimage: by what law, what peace, what justice, and what judge things may be ordered, and by whose courage and prudence our castles, towns, cities, ports, and all our public and private affairs shall be ruled, My first hope is, that God himself will be the chief and supreme governor of all in general and he alone will be LORD-PROTECTOUR of the sweet peace he hath bestowed upon us, and he, I hope, will always be with me, and guide me in my journey; unto whose sacred protection I commit you all, humbly beseeching his heavenly majesty to preserve, and keep you, and so to dispose of me, that once again I may see you. Then all the whole company with one voice cried mainly out unto the King▪ alleadgeing many reasons, and arguments, that they ought not so to be forsaken and exposed to the swords of their enemies, that the country was not to be left so naked, and open to foreign treacheries; nether was it fit they should run the hazard of so many dangers for one, and that but a seeming good deed. Whereat the King finding himself to be not a little urged, and moved with their woeful cries, lamentations and prayers, was very wavering, and doubtful in mind, not knowing for a long time what course to take: For on the one side, to omit the performing of his vow he judged most dangerous, and on the other, not to yield and give way to the prayers, and tears of such and so many great Lords, he esteemed most discourteous and inhuman. At length he resolved to defer his pilgrimage until he had consulted the Pope himself therewith, meaning to follow his He c 〈…〉 teth Pope 〈…〉 advice and counsel; and to know, whether in this case his vow were to be fulfiled, or otherwise to be satisfied and redeemed. X. THE POPE having seriously considered and diligently discussed Pope his 〈…〉 to S. the matter, wrote his answer to the King in this manner. LEO Bishop servant of the servants of God to his beloved son EDWARD King of England sendeth health and Apostolical benediction. Because we have understood of thy desire both laudable, and grateful to God, we give thanks to him by whom Kings do reign, and Princes decree justice. But in every place our Lord is near unto Dispenseth with his vow of pilgrimage. them that truly call upon him, and the holy Apostles united with their head are one spirit, and equally give ear to devout prayers: and because it is manifest that the English nation will be indomaged by thy absence, who with the raynes of justice dost restrain the seditious insurrections thereof, by the authority of God, and the holy Apostles we do absolve thee from the bond of that vow, for which thou fearest to offend God, and from all thy sins, and offences by virtue of that power which our Lord in B. PETER granted unto us saying: Whatsoever thou shalt lose on earth, shall be Mat. 16. loosed alsoe in heaven. Furthermore, we command thee under title of holy obedience, and peanance to distribute the expenses prepared for thy journey, to the poor: and that either thou build a new one, or repair an old Monastery of Monks to the honour of S. PETER Prince of the Apostles, and provide the brethren therein sufficient maintenance out of thy own revenues; that their continual prayers sung there to almighty God, may add an increase of glory to his Saints, and purchase more abundant pardon unto thee. And whatsoever thou shalt give or is already given, or shall hereafter be given to that place, we command that it be ratified by Apostolical authority, and that for ever there be an habitation for Monks, subject to no other lay person but the King himself: and we grant and confirm by most strong authority whatsoever privileges thou shalt there ordain to the honour of God; and lastly, we pronounce the heavy sentence of eternal damnation against all that shall presume to infringe, or violate the same. XI. BUT FOR the greater confirmation of the Pope's letters The vision of a holy man. and answer to the King, an oracle was sent from heaven, and revealed to a holy man then living in England shut up in a hollow cave under ground, who now being well struck in years both of age, and sainctetie, daily expected a release to the desired reward of his meritorious labours. To him the blessed Apostle S. PETER appeared one night in a vision with these words: King EDWARD solicitous for the vow wherewith he obliged himself being in banishment, and careful for the peace of his Realm, and the necessities and prayers of the poor, hath consulted the Pope, to be advised of all things by the authority of the Roman Church. Therefore let him know that by my authority he is absolved from this obligation, and that he hath received a command from the Pope, to erect a Monastery in honour of my name. Let him then without delay give credit to the Apostolical letters, be sure he obey the Pope's precepts, and yield unto his counsels, for whatsoever they contain cometh from me, whom in times past he chose to be his special Patron, the companion of his journey, and his obtainer of grace. But there is a place on the west side of the city of London, which long since I have both chosen and loved, S. Peter's love to Westminster Abbey and the Monks thereof. and which heretofore I consecrated with mine own hands, ennobled with my presence, and honoured with many miracles. The name of the place is Thorney, which heretofore for the sins of the people was given up to the enraged power of the Barbarians, and by them brought down from wealth to poverty, from majesty to dejection, and from a place of respect and honour to an estate vile, and contemptible. By my command the King must undertake worthily to repair, and re-edify this Monastery, and to amplify, and enrich it with large possessions. There shall be nothing but the house of God, and the gate of heaven. There a ladder shall be erected by which the Angels ascending and descending shall present the prayers and petitions of men before almighty God, and obtain grace unto them. I will lay open the gates of heaven to those that ascend from thence, and by virtue of the office which my Lord and Saviour hath given me, I will absolve those that are tied in the bands of sin, and receive them, being absolved, and justified, in at the gates of the heavenly court, which sin had barred up against them. But do thou write unto the King whatsoever thou hast heard and s●ene, that by a redoubled benefit of God, he may be securer of his absolution, devouter in the execution of his precept, and become more fervently possessed with love and duty towards me. With these words he vanished in the glorious light that guarded him: and the old man according to his command related what he had heard by letters directed to the King, which at the very instant that the Pope's answer was opened, were also received, and read. Whereat the good King, takeing great consolation, with King Edw. obeyeth the Pope a joyful cheerfulness, & a cheerful joy bestowed the money prepared for his journey amongst the poor, and re-edified the Monastery. XII. WHEN Ethelred king of Kent by the preaching of S. AUGUSTIN the Benedictin monk had received the Christian faith, Sebert his nephew then king of the East-Angles by the same holymans' endeavour was purged from Paganism in the sacred font of Baptism. This Sebert erected a famous Church in honour of S. PAUL within the walls of London (which was esteemed the chief head of his kingdom) and placed Mellitus the Monk therein, honouring him with Episcopal S. Mellitus made Bishop of London. dignity. But without the walls in the West part of the city he founded a goodly Monastery for Monks of S. benedict's order, in honour of S. PETER the Apostle, enriching it with very large revenues. When the night before the Dedication of the Church, s. PETER himself in an unknown habit appeared to a fisherman on the other side of the river Thames running by the said Abbey, desiring him to pass him over, and he would reward his pains; which was performed: when going out of the boat in sight of the fisherman he entered the newbuilt Church, where suddenly was seen a straying light from heaven, that gave such a wonderful lustre to all therein, as if it would have prevented the sun's coming by turning night into day. There was present with the Apostle in the Church a multitude of heavenly burgesses filling it with melodious music, and most fragrant odours. Having finished all the solemnities and ceremonies due unto the dedication of a Church, he whom our Lord made a famous FISHER of men, returned to the Fisher of fishes, whom he found wonderfully amazed, and carried almost beyond himself with the flashes of the divine splendour, and therefore S. Peter consecrateth the Church of westminster. with a courteous consolation the Apostle restored him to himself again, reduceing his distracted thoughts to the rules of reason; and the two fishers entering into the boat together. S. PETER demanded whether he had taken any fish or no? Being suddenly strucken (replied he) with the sight of that unusual brightness, and detained with expectation of thy return, I endeavoured not to fish, but securely a tended my promised reward from thee, whereunto the Apostle answered; cast forth thy nets, and try. He obeyed his command, and presently found his net loaden with store of fish, all of one kind excepting one fish of a mighty greatness without comparison. Having drawn them on shore the Apostle bade him present that great one to Bishop MELLITUS in his name, and the rest (said he) take for thy reward. An abundance of this kind thou shalt enjoy all thy life time, and thy posterity a long time Fishing on Sundays forbidden. after thee; only hereafter dare not to fish on the Sundays. I am the Apostle PETER who with my heavenly fellow-citizens have already consecrated the Church built in my name, and by the authority of my own dedication, I have prevented the Bishop's benediction. Tell him therefore what thou hast seen, and heard, and the marks imprinted in the walls shall give sufficient testimony to strengthen the truth of thy relation. Let him therefore forbear from any further dedication, and supply only what we omitted, that is, to celebrate the most sacred mysteries of our Lord's body, and blood, and with a sermon to instruct the people, giving them to understand that I will oftentimes visit this place, and be present at the prayers and petitions of the faithful, promising to lay open the gates of heaven to all those that spend their days soberly, justly, and piously in this world. The next morning the fisher with his great fish meets the Bishop MELLITUS as he was going to dedicate the Church, and makes knows unto him whatsoever was given him in charge by the Apostle. Whereat the Bishop much astonished entered into the Church, and finds the pavement signed with the inscription of the Greek and Hebrew alphabet, the walls anointed with holy oil in twelve several places, and the remnants of as many wax candles fastened to twelve crosses, all things being yet moist, with the late springling of holy oil, and water. Whereupon together with the people he gave praise, and thanks to almighty God, for that great remonstrance of his goodness unto them. The whole posterity of the fisherman confirmed the truth of this miracle, for as they received by tradition from their father they offered the tenth of all the commodity gotten afterward by that art to S. PETER, and his servants in that place. Till among the The fisher's deceit punished. rest there was one that attempted to beguile them of that duty, but he received his punishment, for so long he was deprived of the benefit of his art, until having confessed his fault he had made condign restitution of the wrong with, a faithful promise of amendment. XIII. WHEN S. EDWARD had understood all these things out of the relation and records of antiquity, he was inflamed with an extreme desire to re-edify that Monastery, and to restore it out of the ruins of dejection, and poverty to the height of wealth, and dignity: and to that end he dispatched messengers to Rome, as well to obtain privileges for that place, as allsoe to treat some other affairs, with letters to the Pope, to this effect. TO NICOLAS S. Edward's Epistle to Pope Nicolas 2. the chief father of the universal Church, EDWARD by the grace of God king of England sendeth due subjection and obedience. We glorify our Lord for the care he hath of his elect Church, in ordaining thee an excellent successor in the place, and seat of thy good predecessor. Wherefore we think it fit to lean unto thee as unto a firm rock, to sharpen and approve all our good actions, and always to admit of thy knowledge, and fellowship in doing good, especially desiring thou wouldst renew, & increase all those donations and privileges which we obtained from thy predecessor; to wit, that thou ratify, and confirm the Monastery of Monks, which I have built in honour of the B. Apostle S. PETER, according as it was enjoined me by thy predecessor, under title of obedience, and penance, for the dispensation of a vow I made to go to Rome, and the remission of all my sins; as allsoe that thou re-establish, determine, and secure all the privileges belonging to the He willingly payeth duties to Rome. possessions, peace, and dignity of that place for ever. And I, for as much as lies in me, do increase, and confirm the donations and customs of the monies which S. PETER holdeth, and challengeth in England: and now I send them accompanied with other free gifts from myself, humbly entreating thee to offer prayers and sacrifices to almighty God for me, and the peace of my kingdom, and that thou institute & ordain a continual, and solemn memory of all England in general, before the sacred bodies of the Apostles. XIV. THE POPE answered him in this manner. NICOLAS The Pope's answer to the king. Bishop servant of the servants of God, to the most glorious, most pious, and most worthy of all honour our specially beloved EDWARD King of England, sendeth all manner of salutation, most sweet health, and Apostolical benediction. We give thankes unto almighty God who hath adorned, and honoured thy most prudent excellence in all respects to conserve devotion towards the blessed Apostle S. PETER, and all love towards us his unworthy successor, in giving obedience, and consent unto Apostolicque counsels, and censures. We therefore send our letters to thy Royal nobility whereby we grant unto thee the holy Apostles society, and ours, beseeching his mercy who is truly Lord of all, and only sovereign above all, to make thee par taker of all our good works, if any we have in the sight of God, and at all times to make us more fervent brethren and fellows in his love, wishing him to grant no less part or reward of our duty and obedience in his heavenly kingdom unto thee, than we desire to fall unto ourselves. Allsoe we will not cease hereafter unfeignedly to pour out our daily prayers for thee, that God himself would bring thy foes and enemies which attempt to rebel against thee, into subjection, and confirm in thee the inheritance of thy father's throne; beseeching the blessed Apostle S. PETER to be thy guardian and aid in all tribulation, or adversity that may befall thee. We therefore do restablish, confirm, and increase all privileges given in thy behalf, to wit, that thou be clearly absolved from the vow which thou didst seem to fear, and from all other thy sins, and iniquities by the authority of him, that hath ordained my unworthiness chief pastor of his Church. Furthermore because it is credibly reported, that that place which under title of holy penance thou hast undertaken to build, and repair, hath long since been consecrated by the hands of S. PETER himself (whose unworthy Vicar we are) as allsoe because it is, and hath been the ancient seat of Kings, we by the authority of God, and of the holy Apostles, and by the power of this Poman Sea, and ours, do grant, permit, and most strongly confirm, that henceforth for ever it be the place of the King's Coronation, and the storehouse of his Royal enseignes, and a perpetual habitation for Monks independent of any other person, but only the king himself, and that they enjoy absolute power to elect fit, and worthy Abbots out of their own body to succeed in the government, according to the rule of S. BENEDICT, Westminster privileges confirmed to the Benedictine Monks, & exempted from Bishops. and that no sorreigne or straying person be brought in by violence but such as the convent shall freely consent to elect. We do alsoe exempt, absolve, and free that place from all Episcopal subjection and jurisdiction, that no Bishop enter there either to order, or command any thing, unless it be done by the desire and consent of the Abbot and his Monks. And that the same place enjoy a free precinct, that is a circuit, and Churchyard about it to bury the dead, without any respect or exaction of the Bishop, or any other person: and with a most ready and willing mind we give, & grant to that place all privileges whatsoever by our authority may be granted, which belong any way to the honour of God, and to increase the dignity of the place. We do likewise by the authority of God, and ours, ratify, confirm, and establish all the possessions, and hereditaments which ancient Kings, or any other person, or thou thyself, or any of thy Lords have granted unto the same place: and all the charters, and writings made of the same donations we decree to be and remain still in force, and all such persons as shall attempt to infringe, invade, diminish, disperse, or make sale of the same, we condemn and declare them to be guilty of eternal malediction with the traitor judas, and that they be not partakers of the blessed resurrection, but that they know themselves to be adjudged by S. PETER the Apostle when with his fellow-Apostles he shall sit in judgement over the twelve tribes of Jsrael. But unto thee and thy successour-kings we commit to be the advocats and defenders of the same place, and of all the Churches of England in our place and steed, that with the Council of thy Bishops and Abbots thou constitute, and ordain all things in all places according to justice; and know that for such good doing thou shalt receive a worthy reward from him, whose kingdom and empire shall never cease, nor be diminished. This was the Pope's answer. Now let's return to S. EDWARD. XV. GOING once with the Queen, and Earl Harold to see a P●●. 〈◊〉 great sum of money, which without his knowledge they had collected throughout the realm to supply his wants, and especially to clothe his soldiers, & servants with new liveries against the feast of Christmas, entering with them into the Exchequer he espied the devil sitting, and sporting himself upon that heap of money; of whom the King having demanded what business he had there? I keep my money (replied he) unjustly gotten out of the goods of the poor. Whereupon the standers by were much amazed, hearing their speeches but seeing nothing But the holy king, S. Edward's contempt of money. that contemned all temporal riches for love of the eternal, commanded all that money to be presently restored from whence it came, giving herein a perfect example to all Princes and Rulers in the world, not to maintain the glory of their braveries with money wrongfully raised, and forced out of the means of their poor subjects the commonalty. The like clemency moved him out of his Royal bounty, to remit and freely release his subjects He remitteth Dane-gilt. of that most grievous tribute called Dane-gilt, which in his father's time was paid to the Danish navy, and afterwards brought into the king's Exchequer. But he commanding it should be no more exacted, freed thereby the Realm of England for ever of that unsupportable burden. XVI. BEING on a time in his palace near to S. PETER'S Church, there came an Irishman no less straying then miserable, lame of both his legs; for the sinews of his hams being shortened, His name was Giles Michael. and contracted had forced, and drawn his legs backward to the hinder parts of his body, not directly but sideward, so that his ankles grew fast to his buttocks, and his toes being sunk into his haunches were grown over with flesh, that from the setting on of the chine-bone downwards, his body was quite out of order. He crept upon his hands, and knees by the help of two little hand-stooles, and being most painful and grievous to himself, he haled, and drew himself, after himself. This wretched man seeing the king's Chamberlain, cried unto him: O Hugoline (said he) will't thou not look upon me? nor take pity on me? nor will not this my misery and calamity move thee to comfort my distress? What (said he) will't thou have me do? Six times (replied the poor cripple) creeping in this woeful manner as thou ●eest, I have visited the Churches of the Apostles, a●d have not yet obtained the recovery of my limbs. notwithstanding the Prince of the Apostles hath not quite denied my petition, but hath deferred it only, desiring to have king EDWARD his fellow-partner in this cure, whom he knoweth to be most devout towards him in all things. For he himself hath commanded me to go to the king, and that on his sacred back he carry my lame body to the Church adjoining to his palace, and by that means I am promised to receive the perfect use of my limbs. This being declared to the king, he gave thanks unto almighty God, and causing the cripple presently to S. Edward's incomparable humility. be brought before him, like unto that strong spiritual ass (Genesis 49.) bowing to his fortune, and charge, laid down h●s Royal shoulders to be the supporters of that miserable burden of calamity. O most straying miracle of humility! The poor wretch full of rusull, and nasty sores hangs on the back of this Royal Prince, clipping, and embracing his kingly neck with hands, and arms so full of filth, and scabs, that the very sight bred a general loathing in the beholders, and some it moved to laughter, as it were, in scorn of his so base, and sluttish humility: others jesting and scoffing as it, cried out that the beggar had deluded the king: others again rashly judged his plain simplicity to be mere folly. But when this Royal Porter had marched some part of his way with this beggarly burden, the sinews of the cripple began to grow longer, his bones to be strengthened, the dead flesh to receive the two companions of life, warmth, and feeling; his toes, before sunk into the flesh, issued out, and his feet loosed from his haunches were restored to their natural function. When to No●e a straying miracle. the great admiration of all, with the stretching forth of his thighs and legs, by the pliant, and flexible ●ag litie of his hams, there gushed out great store of filthy blood, and corruption, which falling on the king's garments, served for an ornament, rather than any dishonour. Whereupon the cripple received the perfect use of all the limbs of his body, whose one half hitherunto was rather a painful burden, and grievous trouble unto him, than any ease or commodity. Which no sooner was perceived by the attendants, but they all cried out to the King to cast him down now since he was healed, and free himself from the running ulcers of his loathsome burden. But he, mindful of the charge he had undertaken, held on his pious journey, not listening to their bewitching speeches, but entering into the Church, having resigned and offered up the sacrifice he had brought to almighty God, and the Prince of the Apostles S. PETER, he dismissed him safe, and sound to walk forth himself by the help of his own legs, which never before had done him the like service. Therefore now having them by special miracle restored, to the end to employ the first fruits of their labours in the honour of the supreme author, and worker of miracles, he received a sufficient viaticum of the King, and took his journey towards Rome, there to give thanks to almighty God, and S. PETER for this so great a benefit. XVII. AS THIS B. King was once in S. PETER'S Church present at the divine sacrifice of Mass before the altar of the B. TRINITY, together with Count Leofricke; he, that in beauty This Leofrick is much commended for holy life, and founding Monasteries, and namely that of Coventrie where he ●as buried. fare excelleth the sons of men CHRIST JESUS, appeared visibly on the altar to them both, in the true form and figure of his heavenly body, and stretching forth his sacred right hand gave S. EDWARD his benediction, by making the sign of the Cross in the air: at which the King humbly bowing down his head, devoutly adored the presence of the divine Majesty: But the Earl ignorant of the King's thoughts, and desiring to have him partaker of so great a vision, began to make towards him, when the king understanding his meaning, willed him to be still, and keep his place, assuring him that he saw that sacred vision as well as he. And Mass being ended, the king spoke to the Earl in this manner: By his Majesty, and love whom we have seen (o my Leofrick) I do conjure thee, that this vision be not published in our life time, left for the favour of the world-, we should be puffed up with pride to our own ruin, or lest the envy of the incredulous should endeavour to disable the truth of what we say. XVIII. A WOMAN under whose jaws grew certain kernels, which defiling her face with a deformed, and ugly swelling, blown up with corrupted humours, had chainged the blood into filthy matter, wherein were bred worms which breathed out a most horrid, and loathsome smell; and long she had suffered the grief of this infirmity, till at length being admonished in her sleep, she repaired to the Court to hope for a remedy from the Kings own S. Edw. cureth the disease now called the King's evil. hands, by his either washing, touching, or blessing of the diseased place. And being come before the King, and having declared her case unto him, he neither regarded the filth of the sore, nor conceived any horror at the stench that came from it, but handling, and washing the swollen places with his Royal hands, blessed them with the sign or the Cross, whereat the skinge suddenly breaking open, the worms together with the corruption gushed out, the swelling was assuaged, and all sense of pain ceasing, gave place to a perfect recovery of health. This wonderful grace of cureing this disease called in latin struma, now the KING'S EVIL, (for no other reason but because it hath been usually healed by Kings) was first derived from S. EDWARD to all the Kings of England, After him our English kings do the like. and remains as a holy inheritance unto them to this day, and hath been, and is daily practised, and to good effect practised by our modern Kings, albeit professing a religion quite contrary to that of S. EDWARD, yet by his merits (as it may be piously thought) they work this wonderful cure. Yea Queen Elizabeth but a woman had the like power, and cured many thereby as it is well known by men of credit yet living. Therefore the Frenchmen are all deceived, not against their wills, and particularly the French author of the English history, ANDREW LE CHESNE did not speak candidly, and as he thought when he denies that the Kings of England ever enjoyed this virtue, affirming it to be a grace peculiar to them of France derived from S. LEWIS, but ●ur EDWARD flourished above one hundred and forty ●eares before Lewis, and therefore it is likely that if any such thing be among them, they must rather have received it from our Kings, then that theirs have it absolutely, and particularly to themselves. Furthermore William of Malmesbury (a Lib. 2. de Reg. Ang. man fare better conversant in our English histories, than any Frenchman could be) having related the foresaid miracle, affirmed it to be the constant report of such as well knew the life of S. EDWARD, that he had cured many of this same disease whilst he lived in Normandy. But let us go on. A blind man cured with the w●ter in w●●●● the kin● 〈◊〉 w●●hed. XIX. A BLIND man understood by revelation that he should recover his lost sight by the merits of S. EDWARD, washing his face with the water wherein the King had washed his hands. The king understanding this from his Chamberlain, was much amazed, and made show of some displeasure, and discontent, alleging that the poor man was deluded with vain imaginations, that no such matter could be expected from the hands of a sinner as he was, but it belonged to the power, and virtue of the Apostles to work such wonders, and for this cause he ought not to credit those dreams. Notwithstanding he washed his hands, and went away into the Church, as not desiring to be present at the miracle, thereby to avoid the occasion of being tempted with vain glory. But the Chamberlain having reserved the water, brought it to the blind man, wherewith he had no sooner washed his eyes, and face but presently to the great wonder of all, he recovered his sight, and with joy beheld the light again, whose loss he had long bewailed. The like favour was showed to a citizen of Lincoln, who An other cured in like manner. having lost his sight came to the king's palace; and obtained of this water, applied it to his unprofitable eyes, and was immediately cured, and his perpetual night changed to a most welcome, and long desired daylight. An other blind man being admonished to go to the king to have his sight restored, desired the Chamberlain, to make known his case unto him; which done; Let him come (answered the holy king) for why should I be grieved but rather rejoice if the divine goodness be so pleased, as by my unworthy hands, to bestow this promised benefit upon him. The man was brought in, and by the only touching, and blessing Many blind cured. of the king, between his royal hands a filthy blood ran abundantly from his eyes, whereby they were cleared, and all the swelling of his eyelidds assuaged. Then he that before could not see, cried out; I see thee (my soweraigne Lord and King) and thy face shineth like unto the face of an angel standing before me. Allsoe at an other time two blind, and one having but one eye, being sprinkled with the water in which the holy man had washed, were all three restored to perfect sight. XX. AS HE some time sat at table with Earl Godwin, Harold, and Tostins the Earls two sons as yet but children, according to what the fight of Godwins' children did portend. their age and condition played in the hall before them; but as one of them handled his brother more rudely than the sweetness of their game required, their jest was turned into earnest, and their sport to a plain fight. For Harold somewhat abler in strength of body, violently setting upon his brother, fastened both his hands in his hair, and having laid him along on the ground, had gone near to throttle him if by the standers by he had not been prevented. The king beholding this skirmish, turned to Earl Godwine, and said: Dost thou consider nothing in this contention of thy children but a childish sport or battle? Nothing else, my liege (replied he.) But by this boyish conflict the blessed king understood by revelation what would afterwards befall to the children. For (said he) Noah sooner shall they be out of their childhood in man's estate, but an inward malice towards one and other, will mutually possess them: and at first (as it were in jest) they will seem to go about to ruin each other by private deceits, till at length the stronger having got the upper hand, will banish the weaker, and overthrew him, giving him death for his rebellion. But his death will in a short time be recompensed with the ensueing calamity of the author. And all this fell out as England itself may be the Their contention & ruin. bleeding witness of her own miseries. For Tostius being by Harold put to flight, and he a while after had succeeded King Edward in the kingdom, Tostius together with the King of Norway (that came to his aid) was utterly overthrown, and slain and almost all his army destroyed. The same year William Duke of Normandy coming into England to claim his right to the crown in one bloody battle vanquished Harold, who at once was deprived both of life, and kingdom: or (as some think) reserved in misery to do peanance for his former wickedness. XXI. AT AN other time Godwine sitting by the King at table, one of the servingmen coming towards them chanced to stumble so much with on of his feet, that he had caught a fall, had he not recovered himself again by the nimble bringing on of his other foot, by help whereof he was set up right again. The beholders talking diversely (as the manner is) of this accident, and rejoicing to see how opportunely one foot relieved the other, Earl Godwin, as it were in jest, put in these words. So a brother helps his brother, and both relieve each other in necessity. The King (calling to mind the death of his brother Alfred) In like manner (replied he) might mine have been a comfort unto me, had Godwin permitted it. Hereat Godwin trembling, and making feigned signs of sorrow in his countenance: I know (my Liege) I know (said he) that your mind doth yet accuse me as accessary to your brother's death, and that you judge them to be believed that wrongfully give me the title of traitor both to him, and you. But let God the great eye-witness of all secrets be judge between us, and let him not permit this morsel which I hold in my hand to pass down my throat without causing my death, if I be either traitor to you, or guilty of your brother's death. And the King making the sign of the Cross upon the morsel, the wretched Earl put is into his mouth, God's punishmeut against the traitor Godwin. which being chewed, went into the midst of his throat, where it stuck so fast, that, notwitstanding all his labour, and pains, he could get it neither up, nor down: But rather the more he strove, the more it seemed to fasten, so that in a short time the sluices of his wind were stopped up, his eyes turned round in his head, and without speaking one other word he vomited out his traitorous soul to receive her judgement in the next world. The king that saw him make this lamentable end, perceiving God's just punishment to have befallen him; spoke aloud to the standers by: Cast out this dog, and bury him in the high way; which was presently performed. This Godwin abusing the king's pious simplicity wrought many villainies in the kingdom against both God and justice. By his wily flights, and crafty dealing he had chased out of the Realm almost all the king's kindred, & friends, which he had brought with him out of Normandy, husbandmaning to have all things go according to his own desires, when the king being deprived of his friends should only make use of his counsel, and follow his dictamen in all things. But the blessed man never took notice of his bad do, always performing his own duty towards God, foretelling to many that in the end almighty God would punish his wickedness; yea and some times he stuck not to say as much to Godwine himself. XXII. THIS HOLY king next after the Prince of the Apostles, S. Edward's love to S. john Evangelist. bore a singular affection and devotion to S. JOHN Evangelist, in so much that he would never deny any thing demanded in his name. For proof whereof it happened that a certain poor pilgrim (his Chamberlain being absent) importunately asked him an alms in the name of God, and S. JOHN: He having nothing else in a readiness, gave him a ring of great value of his finger. Not long after two Englishmen going in pilgrimage to visit the holy sepulchre at Jerusalem lost their way, and wandered a long time through straying, and uncouth places, till the sun going to set, the darksome night approached, and increased their ignorance, so that not knowing what to do, nor which way to turn, there appeared a venerable grave old man that, brought them to a town hard by, where they were received kindly, and entertained very sufficiently with diet, and lodging. The next morning as they were departing, the same old man put them in their right way, and in takeing leave of them, Brethren (said he) be of good cheer, and doubt not but you shall return to your country in safety; for almighty God will make your journey prosperous, and I myself for your good king's sake will have care to direct you in all your ways. For I am JOHN the Apostle who affect your King with all love, for his pure virtue of chastity S. john loveth him for his chastity. j which highly deserves it. Take therefore this ring which he gave me for an alms, appearing in the habit of a pilgrim, and deliver it unto him again, telling him withal that the time of his death draws near, for six months hence I will visit him, and bring him where together with me he shall follow the lamb which way soever he goeth. At these words he vanished away, and Apoc. 14. v. 4. they having visitted the holy land returned safely into their country, and related orderly to the King what they had seen, and heard. And in testimony of all gave him the ring, which was afterwards kept with great reverence as a holy relic in the great Church of Westminster: and by virtue of it, many were cured of the falling sickness, and of the contractions of their limbs. XXIII. NOT LONG after the blessed man fell into a grievous sickness, during which he was in such an ecstasy, that for the S. Edw. in an ecstasy space of almost two days he lay without any sign of life. At length waking, as it were out of a deep sleep he opened his eyes and sitting up in his bed spoke to the attendants in this manner. When in my youth I lived a banished man in Normandy I ever held the friendship and company of good and virtuous persons, as most dear and grateful unto me, and chief those Monks, and Religious men that excelled others in virtue and religion I observed, and with them I conversed most familiarly; among whom two Monks Benedictines had obliged me in the bands of charity verle particularly unto them, by their honest His love to Benedictine Monks. conversation, their holy life, their sweet behaviour, and their affable and courteous discourse. These I more frequently visitted, their discourses being to my soul, as sweet meats to my palate. And these (being some years since translated out of this world to the joys of heaven) I beheld in this my sleep standing before my face, rehearsing (according to the will of God) what shall befall this country after my decease. They say that the wickedness of the English nation is grown so full, and to such a height, that it provoketh God's wrath, and hasteneth his His prophecy of England. revenge. The Priests have broken their. covenant with God, they handle the sacred mysteries with polluted souls, and defiled hands. They are not true pastors but mercenaties, that do no protect their flock, but expose it to the devouring jaws of wolves, seeking only their own private commodity of the milk, and the wool neglecting the good of their sheep, that at last eternal death may justly devour and swallow both sheep, and shepherd in the bottomless pit of hell. The Princes allsoe and governors of the land are unfaithful, companions of thiefs, and wasters of the country, they neither sear God, nor honour the laws, men to whom truth is grievous, and burdensome, righteousness contemptible, and cruelty delightful: so that neither the Prelates hear any respect to justice, nor the subjects have any regard of good order and discipline. And therefore our Lord And the coming in of the Normans. hath drawn his dreadful sword, he hath bend and prepared his bow to shoote-forth the arrow of his just wrath, and revenge against this nation; into which he will send a mission of wicked spirits, to whose power they shall be delivered in one year and one day, to be punished with fire and sword. With that, sighing and grieving at the news of this calamity threatened against my wretched country, (o ye witnesses of the heavenly secrets) said I, what if this people beiog converted from their wickedenes shall do worthy works of penance, will not God grant them pardon, & leave his blessing among them? Penance is of such force that it suspended the dreadful sentence of death pronounced by Gods own mouth against the Ninivites, and also differed Joan. 2. 3. Reg. 21. the imminent revenge due to wicked Achab. Therefore I will persuade my people to do penance for their offences past, and carefully beware those to come, and perhaps our Lord will be merciful, and not pour out these great calamities upon them; but with his wont piety will receive them then returned unto his service, whom perverted from him by their wicked life, he was prepared to punish and destroy with this heavy judgement. No no (replied they) it will not fall out so happily; for the hearts of this miserable people are so hardened, their eyes so blinded, and their ears so fast dammed up against all goodness, that they will neither hearken to any correction, nor understand any good counsel; they are neither with threats terrified from evil, nor with benefits provoked unto good. At these their words my grief, and care increasing, What (said I) will our Lord show his anger for ever? will he not at last begin to be more pacified? When then shall joys succeed these so many miseries, what comfort, or consolation shall moderate Psal. 76. these great adversities? What remedy is to be expected in these An obscure promise of God's mercy towards England. evils, that as on the one side we are terrified, and contristated at our future rebukes, so we may be a little comforted with the promise of the divine mercy that follows them? Hereunto the Saints proposed unto me this Parable. When a green tree cut down from the stock, & removed three furlongs distant from his own root, shall without the help of any man's hand, or by any external aid, return again to his own root, and placing itself thereon, shall resume juice again to flourish, and bring forth fruit, then and not before some comfort may be hoped for, in this tribulation, and a remedy against the foretold adversity may be expected. Having said thus, they returned to heaven, and I to you, and myself again. XXIV. WHILE the king related this vision, there were present the Queen, Robert keeper of the sacred palace, Duke Harold, and wicked Stigand, who mounting on his father's bed had defiled it, impiously invading the archiepiscopal Sea of Canturbury during the life time of Robert true Archkishop thereof: for which offence he was afterwards suspended by Pope Alexander the second, and in a Council held at Winchester by the same Pope's Legates, and other Bishops, and Abbots of England, he was both deposed from all Episcopal dignity, and cast into prison by the command of William Conqueror where he ended his wicked life with a most miserable, and well deserved death. This Stigand being there present at the king's narration, had all the powers of his soul so barred up against Stigand a Clergyman punished for invading a Sea belonging to the Benedictine Monks. all goodness, that he waxed more obdurate, at the dreadful story, neither was he terrified with the threatening oracle, nor gave any credit to the pious relatour: but murmuring within himself, that the king began to dote in his old age, he laughed where he had more cause to weep. But the rest, whose minds were more virtuously given, lamented and wept abundantly, knowing very well that the Prelates and Princes led their lives according as the blessed king had declared. XXV. SOME are of opinion, that the foresaid similitude is grounded upon an impossibility; and these were chief such as bewailed that the whole Nobility of the land was come to so low anebbe, and so fare spent, that there was neither king, nor Bishop, nor Abbot, nor Prince of the same nation scarce to be seen An interpretation of the King's vision. in England. But quite of an other opinion am I (saith Alured) especially that S. DUNSTAN did both foretell that this calamity should befall us, and yet afterwards promised a comfortable redress. Thus than it may be expounded: This tree signified the kingdom of England in glory beautiful, in delights and riches plentiful, and in the excellency of the Royal dignity most eminent. The root from whence all this honour proceeded, was the Royal stem, or race which from Alfred, (who was the first of the English Kings anointed, and consecrated by the Pope) descended by a direct line of succession to S. EDWARD. The tree was cut off from the stock, when the kingdom being divided from this royal issue, was translated to an other lineage: the distance of three furlongs shows that during the reign of three Kings there should be no mutual participation betwixt the new and the ancient race of Kings: for Harold succeeded King EDWARD, next to him came in William Conqueror, and after him his son William Rufus. But this Royal tree took root again, when Henry the first unto whom all Regal dignity was transported, neither by force compelled, nor urged with hope of gain, but merely taken with an affection of love, took to wife Mawde daughter to S. EDWARD'S niece, joining and uniting together by this marriage the blood royal of the Normans, and the English both in one. Then this tree did truly flourish, when of this united royalty, Mawde the Empress was begotten: and then it brought forth fruit, when by her we had Henry the second who like unto a corner stone united both nations together. And therefore by this we now see, that England hath an English King, as allsoe Bishops, Abbots, Princes, and knights of the same ancient race, derived from this union of both nations. But if any man be displeased with this exposition, let him either expound it better, or expect an other time until he find these particularities fulfiled. XXVI. BUT LET us return to our B. King, whose sickness still increasing made him evidently feel and understand by the secret S. Edward's death. Ambassadors of near approaching death, that his hour was come to pass out of this world; and therefore caused his death to be published abroad before hand, lest the knowledge thereof being delayed, he should want the comfort of the prayers and sacrifices of his Clergy, and people, which he earnestly desired. This done, the holy man loaden with many days of old age, and as many good works as hours in each day, he yielded up his pure soul into the most pure hands of his Redeemer. By whose death England's whole felicity, liberty, and strength was utterly lost, broken, and overthrown. No sooner was the breath gone out of his holy body, but his face casting forth beams of wonderful brightness made death in him seem beautiful, and lovely to the behoulders. This glorious King, and worthy benefactor of S. BENEDICT's order died the fifth of january, one thousand sixty six, The beauty of his dead body. when he had reigned twenty three years six months and twenty seven da●es. He was honourably buried in S. PETER'S Church which himself had built for the Benedictine Monks, and had now been newly consecrated during the time of his last sickness, on S. Innocents day before. XXVII. MANY miracles by the merits of this B. Saint were A lame man cured at his tomb. wrought afterwards at his sepulchre: among which, one Ralph a Norman, who for the space of many years had been by the contraction of his sinews so lame of his legs, that he could but creep, (and that with great difficulty) on his hands, and hinder parts, came the eight day after S. EDWARD'S burial, to his tomb, and making his prayers to almighty God, and this glorious Saint, he was perfectly cured and healed of all his infirmities. XXVIII. ALLSOE about twenty days after his burial six blind men came following a man with one eye, hanging one to an other, Six blind man restored to sight. so that one only eye leading the way, directed seven persons to the B. Saint's sepulchre, where sorrowfully declaring their misery unto him, they humbly beseeched his assistance against the woeful tediousness of their perpetual darkness; and immediately by the merits of the holy King they had all their sights restored, and so perfectly restored unto them, that they were able to return each one guiding his own footsteps. Allsoe the bell ringer of Westminster Church being blind used to pray daily at S. EDWARD'S tomb, till one night he heard a voice that calling him by his name, bade him rise, and go to the Church, but as he went, he seemed to behold King EDWARD in great glory going before him; and from that Three cured of quartan agues. time he had the perfect use of his sight ever after. Allsoe a Monk of Westminster a very learned man, one Sir Guerin a knight, and an other man of Barking, were all three cured of quartan agues, as they prayed at his holy tomb. XXIX. SIX AND thirty years after the death of this glorious King, his sepulchre being opened, at the earnest request and suit of His body found uncorrupted the people, his holy body was found most entire without any the lest sign of corruption, as clear, & white as the crystal, as if it had all ready put on the divine robes of glory; casting forth of the tomb an exceeding sweet, and odoriferous savour to the wonderful joy and comfort of all that were present. The linen wherein he wrapped was as fresh, and pure, as when first it was employed to that holy use. Which moved Gundulph Bishop of Rochester to attempt to pluck a hair of the Saint's head to reserve to himself for his devotion. But his pious desire was frustrated, for the hair stuck on so fast that it could not be pulled off without breaking. XXX. A WOMAN that contemptibly presumed to work upon S. EDWARD'S A miracle day was grievously punished with a sudden palsy, till being brought to the B. Saint's sepulchre, and with tears demanding pardon for her fault, she was restored to her health again. Many other miracles have been done by the merits of this glorious Saint, all which moved Pope Alexander the third, at the instant desire of King Henry the second, and the Clergy of England to put him into the number of canonised Saints, and to cause his feast to be celebrated throughout the kingdom of England. But of this we will speak more at large on the feast of his translation the thirteenth day of October. This feast of his deposition hath been always very magnificently, and religiously celebrated by his successour-kings on this day, as plainly appears in the histories of England, and is particularly proved out of that which Matthew Westminster rehearseth of king Henry the thirds devotion towards S. EDWARD. In the year of grace 1249, (saith he) which was the thirtieth year of our sovereign king Henry the third, the King being then at London on the feast of the Nativity of our Lord, and having spent the Christmas holidays in sumptuous feasts and banqueting, as the custom is, together with a great multitude of his nobility, he assembled many more Nobles and Peers of the Realm to be present, and Henry the thirds devotion to S. Edwar. rejoice with him at the feast of S. EDWARD, whom more cordially he loved, and honoured, than others of the Saints. And on the eve of that B. King's deposition, our sovereign Lord the King according to his pious custom fasted with bread, and water, spending the whole day in continual watching, and praying, and giving of alms. But on the feast itself he caused Mass with great magnificence and solemnity to be celebrated in the Church of Westminster, in vestments all of silk of an inestimable value, and adorned with a great multitude of wax tapers, and the resounding notes of the A consideration on his virtues. Conuentuall and Monastical quire, Ought not we likewise to follow this virtuous example, and give praise unto almighty God for the excellent gifts wherewith he honoured this B. King, in choosing, and calling him to so great glory even before he was borne? And for that he revealed unto him the great favours promised to the kingdom of England for his sake, long before they happened? Who will not admire, and endeavour to imitate the sacred virtue of chastity, which so great a King entirely conserved so many years, with his Queen in holy marriage? Who will not embrace his most profound humility, and contempt of the world, and himself, when he carried that wretched cripple on his royal shoulders to obtain his health? Who will not strive to serve almighty God with affection, seeing how highly he exalteth, and honoureth his Saints? How he exalts them with miracles, & so gloriously recompenseth their service, giving peace, health, and prosperity to kingdoms by their intercession, and in the end making them immortal kings, and everlasting courtiers of the kingdom of heaven. This life is taken chief, and almost wholly o●t of that which B. ALLURED Abbot of Rhievall hath written. john Capgrave hath the very same; William Malmesburie, Roger Hovedon, Matthew Westminster, Nicholas Harpsfield, and almost all writers of Saint's lines make very honourable and worthy mention of him. And the Roman Martirologe on this day. The life of S. CEDDE Bishop and Confessor of the holy order of S. BENEDICT. JAN. 7. Out of Venerable Bede hist. Eccl. lib. 3. & 4 SAINT CEDDE was borne in London, and having gone so fare out of his youth, that he was able to make choice of a manner of life, he put on a monastical habit, among the ancient Monks in the Monastery of Lindisfarne. In which school of piety he profitted so well in a short time, that he was thought worthy to be sent as an Apostolical man with other devout Priests to preach the Gospel to the Mercians, or inhabitants of Middle-England, where by his pious labours S. Cedde converteth the East-Angles. and exemplar life, he greatly promoted the Catholic cause. But Sigbert then king of the Eastsaxons being at that time by the means of Oswin king of Northumberland, from a Heathen converted to the Christian faith, and baptised by Finanus Bishop of York, B. CEDDE at the earnest entreaty of Sigbert was called back by Finanus, and sent with king Sigbert to convert his country to the faith: whose labour there took so good effect, that in a short time he brought most part of that Province from Paganism (into which since their conversion by S. MELLITUS the Benedictine Monk, they had fallen) to the true knowledge and subjection of Christ's Church; and he himself (who by God's grace was now made their second Apostle) returning into Northumberland the messenger of his own good success, was by the hands of Finanus, in presence of two other Bishops, ordained allsoe the second Bishop of London, the chief city of the Eastsaxons, succeeding S. MELLITUS both in the Apostleship and Bishopric He is made Bishop of London. of that Province. And now he began with a more free authority to bring to perfection the work so happily begun, by erecting of Churches in diverse places, making Priests and Deacons to aid him in baptising, and preaching the holy word of God, instructing the new-christened, to observe as fare forth as they were able, the stricter rules of a religious life. Great was the joy & comfort which the new converted King Sigbert and his people received to see the happy success of his endeavours. He was to good men meek and courteous, to the bad somewhat more stern, and severe in punishing their vices, as appeareth by the ensuing accident. II. THERE was in the kings court a noble man that lived in the bands of unlawful wedlock, against whom the holy bishop after many pious admonions given to no effect, denounced the sentence of excommunication, strictly forbidding the King, and all other persons to forbear his company, and not to eat nor drink with him. But the King being invited by the same Nobleman to a Excommucation. banquet, made light of the bishop's precepts, & went to him. And in his return chancing to meet the holy man, he was much affrighted, and leaping of his horse fell prostrate at the Bishop's feet (now likewise alighted from horse back) humbly craving pardon of his fault. The holy man touching him as he lay along with his rod, So S. P●ter prono ●●eed death to Ananias. Act. 5. with an Episcopal authority used these words. I tell thee (said he) that because thou had refused to refrain from the house of that wicked and damnable person, in that very house thou shalt breathe thy last. All which came afterwards to pass as holy CEDDE had foretold. For within a short time by the hands of the same Earl, and his brother, the king was most cruelly murdered in that house: his butchers alleging no other cause moving them thereunto, but his overmuch clemency and mercy in romitting offences committed against him: so that it is credibly thought that this untimely death of so good and virtuous a Prince, did not only wash away his fault, but increase his merit. III. THIS blessed Bishop was wont sometimes to visit his country in Northumberland, and to comfort his countrymen there with his divine preachings, and godly exhortations, whereby he got so much favour with king Edilwald son to king Oswald (that reigned over the people of that country called Deiri) that moved thereunto both by the sanctity and wisdom of this virtuous Bishop, and allsoe by the means of his good brother Celin chaplain to the king and court, he gave to S. CEDDE a piece of land for the building of a Monastery, whither he and his people might resort to serve God, & receive the Sacraments. The holy Bishop made choice of a place for this purpose in the desert mountains, which before that time was rather a covert for thiefs, & wild beasts, than a fit habitation for Christians. But he would not permit the foundation to be laid, before he had purged and consecrated the place with fasting and prayer: both which he performed every day until the evening, and then he contented himself with one and that a small meal, consisting of a little bread, one egg, & a little milk mingled with water. Thus he passed all the lent (excepting sundays) until Fasting in Lent until evening. he was called away from this holy exercise upon some special business of the king, by which he was forced to intermitt his pious de seigne, when there remained only ten days of the forty to come. But because he would not let his holy task be there broken off, he entreated Cimbell avertuous Priest & his natural brother, to finish the godly work he had begun, according to the foreshowed example. Which being by Cimbell gladly undertaken, and as piously He builde●h a monastery. performed, soon after Bishop CEDDE erected the Monastery now called Lesting, ordering it according to the same laws, and discipline of religion, as that of Lindisfurne or Holy Island, where he had learned his first lesson, and rudiments of virtue. iv BUT IN that great controversy which arose afterwards between the old Scottish or Irish Monks, and the Monks of S benedict's order the Apostles of England, touching the celebration of Easter, in which it was sharply disputed an each side, especially between S. WILFRID the Benedictine Monk and Bishop Colman a Scott, holy CEDDE being a diligent interpreter for both parts was so convinced by the divine arguments of S. WILFRID, that he quite gave over to follow the footsteps of the Scots, and came to the knowledge of the true and Catholic manner of observing the feast of Easter; and allsoe to wear a round shaved crown after the Monastical fashion of Benedictines brought first into England by S. AUGUSTIN our Apostle and his fellows that were all Benedictine Monks. And afterwards by the persuasion of WILFRID (Colman and his adherents being fled into Scotland) S. CEDDE himself received the rule of our most holy father S. BENEDICT, and induced all the Monks, of his new Monastery of Lesting (of which he was head) to do the like, & under the same holy rule he governed them in all manner of virtues until his death. Thus after some years well spent both in government of his Bishopric, and this Monastery: at the length as he visitted the same in time of plague, he fell into a sickness, which set free his soul from the tediousness of this worldly life, to taste the desired joys prepared for the reward of his merits and good works in heaven. He was first buried abroad, but afterwards a Church of stone being built there in honour of S. Cedde dieth. our blessed Lady, he was taken up and laid at the right side of the altar. At his departure he resigned the government of the Monastery to his brother S. CHAD, whose life you may read the second of March. V WHEN the Monks of the Monastery he had erected amongst the Eastsaxons understood of his death, thirty of them went into Northumberland, desiring either to live by the body of their holy father, or (if God so pleased) to die, and be buried there: Such was the great love they bore unto this blessed Saiuct. But in that time of mortality they all walked the paths of death, excepting one little boy, who (as it was piously thought) was preserved from death by the special prayers and intercessions of this holy Bishop. For living many years after, and studying holy scriptures, he came at length to knowledge that he had never received the Sacrament See the peculiar providence of almighty God. of Baptism: whereupon he was forthwith christened, and afterwards being promoted to priesthood, he became a very profitable member of God's Church, having been by the prayers and merits of S. CEDDE miraculously preserved from the danger of a temporal, and eternal death S. CEDDE died about the year of our Lord 664. Of him do make mention S. BEDE whom we have followed, JOHN CAPGRAVE, WILLIAM MELMESBURY de Pontific. Lond. NICHOLAS HARPSFIELD saec. 7. cap. 13. TRITHEMIUS of the famous men of S. benedict's order lib. 4. cap. 66. and many others. The life of S. WULSINE Bishop and Confessor of the holy order of S. BENEDICT. JAN. 8. SAINT WULSINE borne in London of worthy parents, was carefully brought up in the service and fear of God, until he was grown out of his childhood, and then they offered him unto God and S. BENEDICT in the Monastery of the Benedictine Monks at The virtue of his youth. Westminster, to be trained up in that divine school of virtue; wherein he became so good a proficient, that in a short time his grave carriage, and religious behaviour gave a great testimony ●f future sainctetie. By watching, fasting, and prayer he overcame the two sworn enemies of goodness, the flesh, and the Devil. So highly he contemned the pleasures and vanities of the world, that nothing seemed to him more irksome, and tedious, than the very thought thereof, in respect of the great comfort he received out of the divine contemplation of heaven, and heavenly things; whereunto he addicted all the powers both of his body and soul. In humility he was most lowly, in obedience most ready, and full of charitable affection towards all men. Having passed over his youth in the continual exercise of these, and other Monastical virtues, he received the dignity of Priesthood, and then he did not only shine unto his He is made Priest. brethren, and draw them to virtue by his good example; but allsoe by reading and expounding the holy scriptures by pious exhortations and preachings, he would win them to the love of true religion and devotion. At length by the means of that great pillar of the Benedictine family S. DUNSTAN, he was chosen Abbot of the same Monastery; in the performance of which holy charge, it is beyond the force of weak words to express, how much he laboured And Abbot of westminster. for the salvation of fowls, and what excellent examples of virtue and godly life he shown unto his brethren. But such were his rare virtues, that long they could not be contained within the bounds of a weak Cloister. For king Ethelred called him thence, as it were from under the obscure bushel of his Monastery, to be placed in the view and admiration of the world, in the Bishopric of Sherburne, and by the free election of the Clergy, and great applause of the people, he was exalted to the government of that Sea. Then it was rare to behold how worthily he began to rule his people, thundering at first a dutiful respect into their The true virtues of a good Bishop. hearts, he afterwards shined all love among them: his first and principal care being, to appear unto his subjectsses such as he would have them be, and to be such as he appeared, making his godly life, the example of his own doctrine, and his doctrine to arise, as it were, out of his deeds. So that in a small time he won singular love in his people, and engrafted singular confidence. His daily exercise was to exhort his subjects, to comfort the afflicted, to feed the hungry, to the naked, to redeem captives, to entertain poor pilgrims, to teach the ignorant, to withould the desperate from the shipwreck of their souls, to inflame the tepid, and animate the servant, to provide carefully for those under his charge, and punctually to perform the duty of his profession and calling. He was wont to spend the time of Lent within the Monk's cloister were freed from the tumultuous affairs of the world he led a rigid monastical life, exercising himself in fasting and prayer, and heavenly contemplation. On maundy thursday he came abroad, and having consecrated holy Chrism according to the custom of Consecration of Chrism. the Catholic Church, he would preach unto the people, & give them his benediction. After the celebration of the feast of Easter he was wont to visit his whole diocese, as well to teach, instruct, and direct his under-pastours and clergiemen worthily to perform their duties, as allsoe to amend, correct, and punish whatsoever was done amiss, contrary to the rules of good order, discipline, and justice. II. HE WAS wonderful careful both to augment, and exalt that ancient sea of Sherburne, and to establish it in a continual peace, in good order and discipline, and to that end he cast out from thence Nichol. Harp. saec. 10. c. 9 & William Malm. Monks ought nor to be subject to Bishops. the secular clergimen for their bad life, and in their steed brought in the Benedictine Monks, over whom he would have placed an Abbot, but they desired rather to live under his government, whereunto (though unwilling) he consented: foretelling them that it would be a beginning of great calamities unto their successors to be subject to the Bishops. But in all that he did for the Monks he never detracted any part of the means belonging to the Bishopric, to set them up withal, but provided elsewhere sufficient revenues for them, always preserving the Episcopal Sea in her own ancient and splendour in all things. III. THUS having for the space of five years worthily governed his flock, and done the office of a good pastor, he fell into a vehement sickness, together with a virtuous knight, and his dear S. Wulsine falls sick. friend named Egeline, who hearing of his lords infirmity, seemed to suffer more therein, then in his own, and therefore (not able to go himself) he sent to know in what danger he was. The languishing holy man, by the messenger, willed his sickly friend suddenly to dispose of himself and his estate, and to prepare for his last journey; for to morrow next (said he) we shall go both together to the court of our eternal King, where he shall receive the reward of his faithful service. The messenger being departed, he used these words to his Monks: By the filial love you have ever showed unto me, I do conjure you (my dear children) that before you commit my bones to the earth, you cause the body of this our faithful friend to be brought hither, and to be buried with me in this Church of Sherburne, that in death our bodies be not separated, whose souls during life were tied faithfully together in the bands of true love and friendship. To these words the Monks that were present, could give no other answer but tears, the woeful witnesses of the sorrow they conceived to departed from so dear a father. But he exhorted them all to be rather joyful then grieved at his near approaching happiness, and always to live in the fear and love of God, till he felt the pangs of death begin to cut of his discourse; when lifting up his hands and eyes towards heaven, he cried out with the first martyr S. STEPHEN: Behold I see the heavens opened and jesus standing on the right hand of God: and with the breath of these words he breathed forth his pure soul to receive her reward in the purest He dieth place; the eight day of january, about the year of our Lord 985. Of this B. Saint do make mention ARNOLD WION in the appendix of his martirologe, WILLIAM MALMESBURY, JOHN CAPGRAVE, NICHOLAS HARPSFIELD, and others, whom we have followed. The life of S. ADRIAN Confessor and Abbot of the holy order of S. BENEDICT. JAN. 9 SAINT ADRIAN borne in Africa, for his great virtue Out of venerable Bede. and learning was chosen Abbot of the Benedictin Monastery of Niridan in Campania not fare from Naples. He was a great divine, and very skilful both in the Greek and Latin tongue: and to these sciences was added as an ornament of all, a true zeal of the service of almighty God, and monastical discipline, with a perfect knowledge of Ecclesiastical government. All which shined so clearly in him, as they gave sufficient testimony with how sincere a desire of virtue he had first forsaken the world, and put on the habit of religion. II. IT happened during the time of this holy Abbot that the Metropolitan Sea of Canturbury, by the death of Deusdedit, or Gods-guist sixth Bishop thereof, was vacant and destitute of a Pilot: when the people and Clergy of Benedictin Monks moved Egbert then King of Kent, and Oswin king of the Northumber's to send one Wighart a●vertuous and holy Priest to Rome, to be consecrated Kings of Engl. sent to Rome for an Archbishop of Canturb. Bishop of Canturbury. But Wighart coming to Rome in the hit time of plague, died before he had received his intended dignity. Whereupon Vitalianus, than Pope sent for S. ADRIAN out of his Monastery of Niridan, and desired him to accept the charge and dignity of the archiepiscopal Sea of Canturbury. But he refused this offer, humbly answering that unworthy hy was to undertake, and more unable to perform any such weighty office in God's Church. And therefore desired some days of deliberation to search S. Adrian refuseth the Archbishoprik out an other, whose worth did more worthily correspond with so hight a degree and calling. In this while he found out a holy Benedictin Monk of his acquaintance called Theodore, that lived in Rome, and him he presented unto the Pope as one fit for that dignity, he being a man excellent in the two chiefest ornaments of the mind, learning, and virtue. This man the Pope accepted and consecrated Archbishop of Canturbury; on condition that ADRIAN, who had refused the chief dignity, should at accompany him into England as his coadiutour in that Apostolical mission. Hereunto the blessed Saint willingly consented, and undertook the voyage, making himself a subject, where he might have been a commander, His great humility. and choosing rather to profit the nation with his preaching and learning, then govern it by an Episcopal authoritle: such was his wonderful humility, and burning zeal to gain souls to God. III NOW therefore this holy couple took their journey towards England, and coming into France, S. ADRIAN (who was famous in that country, for having been sent on diverse embassages between Christian Princes) was (for his greater merit) suspected to go to the Kings of England on some business of estare from the Emperor plotted against the French, and therefore was stayed by the King of the Gauls, until he had cleared himself of that suspicion. Which done, he went after Theodore into England, where within a year or two he was by the same Theodore made Abbot of the Benedictin Monks in the monastery of S. PETER in Canturbury, now called S. Augustine's, from the Benedictin Monk S. AUSTIN our Apostle, He is made Abbot of S. Peter's in Canturb. who lies buried there. In this place S. ADRIAN gathered together a great number of disciples whom he taught and instructed out of the holy scriptures, to find the ready way to everlasting life; and besides this, he taught them Music, Astronomy, and Arithmetic, as allsoe the Greek and Latin tongue: which his pious labours took so good effect, that many of his scholars spoke Greek and Latin as perfectly as their own mother tongue: and especially two, fare exceeded their other fellows in all manner of learning, one was called Albin, who succeeded S. ADRIAN in the regency of the Abbey, & the other Tobias, who was afterwards Bishop of Rochester IU. Moreover this blessed Saint was of so great merit, and so highly esteemed before almighty God, that he is reported to have been the worker of many miracles, and that by his intercession a de●d man was raised to life. At length having laboured in the vineyard of our Lord a long time both in Jtalie and England, leaving His death behind him many learned disciples the fruits of his labours, the thirty ninth year after he came to Canturbury, he left this world to receive his reward in heaven the ninth day of January, the year of our Lord 708. He was buried in the Church or chapel of the B. Virgin MARIE, which King Edbald had built in the foresaid Monastery of S. AUGUSTIN. And this Church happening afterwards to be burnt, S. ADRIAN appeared to one of the Monks, and commanded He appeareth in glory. him to go to S. DUNSTAN (who then was Archbishop of Canturbury) with these words, in his name: Thou livest in houses well covered and fenced against the weather but the Church of the Mother of God, wherein I, and other domestics of heaven do inhabit lies open, exposed to the injurious storms of the wind. Whereupon S. DUNSTAN carefully caused that Church to be repaired, which himself afterwards frequented every night, such divine sweetness he received by his prayers offered to God in that place. But one night entering into it he beheld S. ADRIAN seated amongst a glorious quire of Angels and Saints praising and glorifieing almighty God. His body was always held in great veneration but especially from hence forth: and many miracles are reported by the author of his life, to have been wrought at his tomb, which for brevity's sake we omit, desiring of almighty God grace rather to imitatehis virtues, then to admire his wonders. Of S ADRIAN maketh mention S. BEDE as before, BARONIUS tom. 8. ann. 668. TRITHEMIUS in his 3. book of the famous men of S. benedict's order, HARPSFIELD saec. 7. cap. 8. &. 9 MOLANUS, JOHN CAPGRAVE, and others. The life of S, BRITHWALD Bishop and Confessor of the holy order of S. BENEDICT. JAN. 9 Out of venerable Bede hist. de gest. SAINT BRITHWALD a Monk of S. benedict's order in the famous Abbey of Glassenbury, was made Abbot of the monastery called Reaculer in Kent, where at that time the Kings of Kent sometimes kept their Court, albeit now (saith Camden) it be but a poor village not fare distant from Tanet. Being a man of very great learning and knowledge in divine scriptures, and wonderful well practised in Ecclesiastical and Monastical discipline, he was chosen by the Benedictins of Canturbury to succeed S. THEODORE in that sea (which had been vacant the space of two years) in the year 692, and consecrated Archbishop thereof the year following. He was the eight Archbishop of Canturbury, and governed his Chutch with all true virtues belonging to a good Bishop the space of thirty seven years, six months and fourteen days. In his time a Council was held at London, wherein the point of worshipping holy Images was handled and confirmed. At length this holy man loaden with many years of venerable old age, and full of virtues & holiness, yielded up his blessed soul to the beginning of that life which never ends; the ninth day of January in the year 731. William Malmesbury a very grave author affirmeth, out of Goscelinus who writeth the acts of the first nine Archbishops of Canturbury, that S. BRITHWALD was famous for working of many miracles. And he is reported to have written the history of the beginning of the Benedictin monastery of Euesham, with the life of S EGVINE Bishop of Worcester. Thus much out of venerable BEDE, NICHOLAS HARPSFIELD, and others. TRITHEMINS in his work of the famous men of S. benedict's order; WION, MOLANUS, and GALESINUS in their Martyrologes make worthy mention of S. BRITHWALD. depiction of Benedict Biscop S. BENEDICTUS BISCOP ABBAS PATRONUS Congregationis ●enedictinorum Angliae. Jan. 12ᵒ The life of S. BENNET surnamed Biscop, Abbot and Confessor of the holy order of S. BENEDICT. JAN. 12. Written by venerable Bede his disciple. THE GLORIOUS servant of God S. BENNET by birth descended from the ancient race of the nobility of England, but the nobility of his mind was such, as fare more deserved the fellowship and company of the noblest, and worthiest sort of the English nation. He was borne in Yorkshire, and in his youth followed the discipline of war, in the Royal service of Oswy king of the Northumber's, from whose princely liberality he received, as the reward of his faithful service, no small possession of lands & His life during his youth. means suitable to his degree and calling. These for a time he enjoyed, till he attained to the flourishing age of twenty five years, and then (a divine inspiration moving him thereunto) he forsook & left the world and fading worldly goods for love of the eternal, he despised the war far of these lower regions & the vain rewards thereof, that serving under the ensign of our true King CHRIST JESUS he might receive an everlasting kingdom above; He left his country, house, and kindred for the love of CHRIST and his Gospel, that he might gain the hundredfould reward he promiseth, and possess life everlasting: he refused to enter into worldly marriage that in the court of heaven he might be worthy to follow the holy lamb so candid with the glory of virginity; he loathed to be a carnal father of children, being ordained by CHRIST to His first journey to Rome. train up his children in the spiritual doctrine of heaven. Having left therefore his country (because the Christian faith, and Ecclesiastical discipline was yet but rawly established in England) he went to Rome, there, as in the source and fountain of all true religion, to learn a perfect form oflife, where CHRIST'S chief Apostles had planted the first and principal foundation and head of the whole Catholic Church. He visitted the sacred tombs of the Apostles with great devotion, unto whom his love was always such, as the tears now shed over their shrines, were sufficient witnesses to prove it excellent. But he made no long stay at Rome, but returned back into England, where he was very diligent and careful to honour, and as fare as he was able to practise himself, and teach others those rules of Ecclesiastical discipline at home, which he had learned, and seen abroad. II. ABOUT that time Alchifridus son to Oswy having a great His second journey to Rome. desire to go to Rome, to visit the holy shrines of the Apostles, would needs take that journey with S. BENNET, notwithstanding the earnest persuasions and entreaties of his father to stay at home. Their journey succeeded well, and shortly after they returned in safety again, during the time of Pope Vitalian. When S. BENNET came not empty, but loaden with the sweetness of good and wholesome doctrine as before; which the better to digest, after some He taketh the habit of S. Benedict. months he departed out of England, and went to the Benedictin monastery of Lirin in France, where he took leave of the world and put on the monastical habit of the great Patriarch of Monks S. BENEDICT, and received the Ecclesiastical tonsure. In this pious school of regular discipline he lived for the space of two years, very carefully learning, and observing the rules of a true monastical and religious life. But no sooner was he a little hardened in the surnace of religion, and made perfectly strong and able to resist the temptations and adversities of the world, but his love to the Prince of the Apostles (which it seems lay buried at Rome) served as a loadstone to draw him thither again. And finding a fit opportunity of shipping he committed himself to that much desired journey, which most prosperously he performed. It was at the time when Egbert King of Kent (as we have said in the life of S. ADRIAN) had sent Wighart to Rome, to be consecrated Archbishop of Canturbury. But Wighart dieing, and Theodore being made Archbishop in his steed, S. BENNET, found to be a man very wise, religious, and industrious (although at that time otherwise determined) was by command of the Pope compelled to cease from the devotion of his pilgrimage to attend unto employments of a higher calling; which was to return into England with Theodore now Elect of Canturbury, and S. ADRIAN Abbot, to serve them both for a guide and an interpreter by the way, and in England. BENNET, whose chiefest lesson was obedience, most willingly yielded to the Pope's desire, and brought the Archbishop into Kent, where they were both gratefully welcome. Theodore a scended the seat of the Archbishopric, and S. BENNET undertook the government of the monastery of S. PETER and PAUL in Canturbury, of which afterwards S. ADRIAN was made Abbot. For S. BENNET having ruled there two His third journey to Rome. years entered into his third journey towards Rome, which he performed with his wont prosperity. And at his return he brought with him not a few books fraught with divine learning, all which he had either bought at an easy rate, or received gratis from his friends. Coming thus loaden into England, he betook himself to have some conference with the King of the Westsaxons called Kenewalk, whose courteous friendship he had made use of before, & been much assisted by his benefits to himwards. But this good King being about the same time taken away by an immature death, the holy man was frustrated of his desire; and therefore he turned his journey directly into his own country, where he was borne, and went to Egfrid then King of the Northumber's. To whom he made relation of all whatsoever he had done since he departed a young man out of his country: neither did he keep secret from him how he was inflamed with a fervent desire of religion: then he told him whatsoever he had learned both in Rome, & other places touching Ecclesiastical and monastical order and discipline: and what store of divine books he had purchased, and with what great relics of the Apostles, and Martyrs, he had enriched his country. At length the King liked him so well, and prevailed so fare with him, and got so great love, and familiarity, that he gave him out of his revenues the lands of three score and ten families, to build a monastery in honour of the Prince of the Apostles S. PETER, which S. BENNET with great joy and speed performed, in the year of our Lord 674. the fourth year of King Egfrid. III. IN THE mean time before the foundation of the Church was laid S. BENNET went over into France, and brought thence masons, & other skilful workmen to build it of stone, according to the Roman fashion, which he ever loved. And the great love he The first use of glazing in England. bore to the Apostle S. PETER, in whose honour he laboured, made him use such diligence, that within the compass of a year after the foundation was laid, the solemnities of Mass were honourably celebrated therein. But when the work drew near unto perfection, he likewise sent messengers into France, to fetch over glasiers, to adorn the windows with glass; a work never before used in England. They came, and did not only perfect this work, but allsoe taught their trade unto many of our Englishmen. Allsoe such sacred vessels, vestments, and other necessaries for the service of Church and Altar as could not be found in England, like a religious merchant, he provided and bought from beyond the seas. But finding the poverty and want of France not to be able to furnish him with such ornaments as he desired, and especially to obtain from the Pope new privileges for his newbuilt monastery, he made a fourth journey to Rome; and this as soon as he had assembled a Convent of Monks into it, and His fourth journey to Rome. ordered them according to the rule and institution of great S. BENEDICT. Shortly after he returned, making a more happy return of spiritual Gods then ever he had done before. For besides almost an innumerable multitude of books, and great store of relics of the Apostles, and Martyrs of CHRIST'S Church, he had obtained of Pope Agatho to have john chief Cantor of S. PETER'S, and Abbot of S. MARTIN'S in Rome along with him into England, to instruct and teach as well his monastery, as other Churches allsoe in the form and manner of singing, and doing all other Ecclesiastical rites, and ceremonies, according to the institution of the Roman Church. All which john at his coming he performed, not only by word of mouth, but allsoe by publishing many rules, and precepts to that purpose in writing, which for memory sake were afterwards carefully laid up and reserved in the library of the said monastery. Allsoe by the licence of King Egfrid, and at his earnest entreaty, he obtained of the same Pope letters of privileges granted unto the said monastery, to warrant, defend, and free it from all extern jurisdiction, or forcible invasions for ever. Likewise he brought from Rome many pictures of holy images, to beautify, and adorn his Church, and namely a picture of the B. VIRGIN MARIE, and the Pictures used in Catholic Churches twelve Apostles, which he placed in the middle arch or vault of the Church from wall, to wall, and with pictures containing all the Evangelicall history, he adorned the north side; and with others of the visions of the Apocalypse, he made the south part correspondent unto it: To the end that all that came into the Church, even the unlearned, which way soever they cast their eyes, might behold and contemplate (though in an image) either the loving countenance of CHRIST, or his Saints; or with a more watchful mind consider the wonderful grace of his incarnation; or having before their eyes the danger of the last rigid examine, they might remember more districtly to examine the guilt of their own conscience. iv NOW when King Egfrid saw with what great virtue, industry, See the devotion of this good king and religion this venerable man did do the part of a wise, and holy steward in all these proceed, he was wonderful much delighted thereat, and because he perceived the land he had given him, to have been well and fruictfully given, he increased his former gift, with the donation of forty families more. On which land by counsel, and persuasion of the King, the holy man built an He buildeth an other monastery to S. Paul. other monastery on the other side of the river, dedicated to the honour of S. PAUL, not fare from the former: and thither he sent Ceolfrid to be Abbot with seaventeen other Benedictine Monks, strictly charging, and commanding them, that one and the self same peace, familiarity, & concord should be conserved in both places. And as the body cannot live without the head by which it breathes, nor the head without the body by which it life's: So let no man any way attempt to disturb or disquiet these two monasteries of the chief Apostles, that together are knit in a fraternal society, of peace. Whence it comes, that afterwards both these monasteries were commonly called by one name, Weremouth Abbey. V ABOUT this time, the blessed Saint having much increased the number of Monks in both these places, and ordered them according to the rule of his great Master S. BENEDICT, he made one Eosterwin a Priest and Monk, Abbot of the monastery of S PETER, to Eosterwin Abbot. the end that by the sociable assistance of so virtuous a Colleague, he might with more ease undergo the labour of government, which he was scarce able to perform alone, by reason of his much travelling up and down for the good of his monastery, and his frequent journeys beyond seas, uncertain when to return. Eosterwin therefore undertook the care of the monastery the ninth year after the foundation; and remained in the same while he lived, and he lived but four years after. He was a man by birth noble, but he did not make use of the worth of his nobility (as many do) to breed matter of outward glory, and contempt of others, but made it the first step to ennoble, and enrich his mind with virtue. For being cousin german unto S. BENNET, they were both so truly allied in a virtuous nobility os minds, both alike such sincere contemners of all worldly respects and honours, that neither the one coming into the monastery did expect to be preferred either by reason of his honourable nobility, or kindred, or the other judge it a thing fit to be offered him upon those respects: But being a manful of good and holy intentions, only rejoiced that he did observe regular discipline in all things, in an equal measure with the rest of his brethren. But S. BENNET, soon after he had ordained Eosterwin Abbot of S. PETER'S, and Ceolfrid of S. PAUL'S, made his fift journey out of England to Rome, and happily returned home, enriched as before, with very memorable gifts of ecclesiastical wealth, His fift journey to Romme. as books, relics of Saints, and pictures, containing the histories of the old, and new testament compared together, and such like. And amongst other things, he brought two cloaks all of silk, of an incomparable work; for which he purchased of King Aldfrid, and his Council (for Egfrid was slain in his absence) the land of three families, on the south side of the river Were. But the joys he brought from abroad, where mingled with sadness at home; for he found Eosterwin, whom at his departure he had left Abbot of S. PETER'S Monastery, and not a few of his monastical flock, to have changed this world for a better, being taken away by the pestilent fury of a sickness, which raged all over the country. Yet to this there was comfort at hand, that by the election of the brethren, and his fellow-Abbot Ceolfrid, he found one Sigfrid a deacon of the same monastery, a very reverend, and meek man, substituted in Eosterwins' place. This Sigfrid was a man very sufficiently instructed in the knowledge of holy scriptures, adorned with most godly manners, endowed with a wonderful virtue of abstinence, and for the better conserving of the virtues of his mind, he was kept under with no small infirmity of body; and to maintain the innocence of his heart, he always laboured with a hurtfulland irremediable disease of the lungs. VI AND not long after S. BENNET allsoe began to be wearied S. Bennet falleth sick. with a sickness coming forcibly upon him. For the divine goodness, (that the virtue of patience might allsoe give testimony of the great sincerity of these holy Abbots in religion) laid them both prostrate for a time on the hard bed of a temporal sickness, that having triumphed over the same by death, he might afterwards refresh them with the perpetual rest of a gladsome peace, and ever-during life. For Sigfrid (as we have said) having been long tormented with the tedious grief of the inwards parts of his body, evidently perceived, that now he was come to his last: and S. BENNET whose disease still increased by degrees for the space of three years, was now weakened with such an extreme palsy, that death seizing on the lower parts of his body, took from thence all sense of feeling, so that life withdrew itself only into the higher lodgings of that weak building, remaining there, only the better to exercise the office of a religious and virtuous patience. His whole study, during the time of his sickness, was always to spend the little allowance of breath he enjoyed in rendering hearty thankes and praises unto the author of all goodness for his benefits, and to exhort his brethren with the fraternal words of piety, to remain constant in the service of God, and in the observance of the rules, and institutions which he had planted among them. VII. FOR you ought not to imagine (said he) that the laws His speech to his brethren on his death bed. and constitutions which I have given you, have proceeded out of my owneignorant, and unlearned understanding; for out of seventeen diverse monasteries, which among all the wearisome labours of my often travels, I found to be best, have I learned, and gathered. all these precepts, delivered them to your piety to be observed. But chief this precept he did often times reiterate unto them, that in the election of their Abbot they should have no regard to the nobility of birth, without the worthiness of virtue; nor respect the greatness of dignity in the world, but the abundance of charity, and humility in religion: For in very deed I tell you (said he) that in comparison of two evils, I had rather see the place in which with so great labours I have built this monastery, reduced into a perpetual desert, (if so it please God) then that my own brother, who is known not to follow the steps of virtue, should succeed me in title of Abbot, to rule, and govern the same. Therefore (dear Brethren) be always very careful never to choose your Abbot An Abbot to be chosen not for nobility, but virtue. according to birth, nor out of any other Body, than your own, but following that which our great Abbot S. BENEDICT hath prescribed in his rule, and the decrees contained in our privileges, you ought in the convent of your Congregation with common counsel of the brethren, to search out one, who according to the deserts of life, and doctrine of wisdom, shall be found, and approved to be most worthy, and fit to perform so great an office: and such an one being found, you shall present him to the Bishop, who with his wont benediction ought to confirm him in the Abbatiall dignity. In these and such like speeches did he spend a great part of his weak sickly days; whilst to mitigate the wearisome tediousness of the long night, which the heavy burden of his disease did render restless from sleep, he would some times call one of his brethren to read unto him either the example of holy jobs unmatcheable patience, or some other part of the scripture, whereby he might receive some comfort in his grief, and be able more lively to lift up himself from the lowest degree of worldly torment, to the consideration of the highest reward of his suffering. And because he could not by any means rise to pray, nor easily make use either of tongue, or voice, to recite his accustomed task of psalms, he learned by his own prudence, and the His truly religious spirit. dictamen of a true religious spirit and affection, to call certain of the brethren unto him at all the hours either of day, or night office, with whom, being divided into two quires he would sing, and say as well as he was able, all the accustomed psalms of the office, and what his weakness would not let him perform, was by their assistance supplied. VIII. BUT when this worthy pair of Abbots, BENNET and Sigfrid having been long wearied with these tedious infirmities, did both plainly perceive that they drew near the entrance of the dreadful gates of death, and saw themselves to be both unfit for See a true pattern of affection the government of the monastery; for so fare their infirmities had wrought in them the perfection of the virtue of CHRIST; that when as upon a day both piously desiring to see, and salute one and other before they departed out of the world, Sigfrid was carried upon a beer (like a true picture of death) to the chamber where S. BENNET lay upon his poor couch, and being both by the serving hands of their doleful brethren in such sort composed together upon the same pallett, and their heads upon the same bolster (behold a lamentable sight!) they were not masters of so much strength, as to join their holy lips together to give a kiss to their last farewell, but were fain having made show of their desire herein, to finish it by the assistance of fraternal hands. IX. THAN S. BENNET entering into consultation with Sigfrid● and the rest of her brethren, sent for Ceolfrid that was Abbot of S. PAUL'S monastery, a man not only near unto him in the bands of kindred, but allsoe (which is the chiefell) in the sweet society of virtues, and him by the common consent, and favour of all, he placed at the helm to be the only pilot, and governor of both his monasteries; judging it the only best course, the better to conserve the peace, unity, and concord of both places, to beepe them perpetually under the regiment of one only superior. And for this purpose he wished them to call to mind that Evangelicall sentence: Every kingdom divided within itself, shall become desolate. But two months after this, the venerable, and beloved man of God Sigfrid Luc. 11. v. 17. having passed through the fire and water of temporal tribulation, was by a welcome death brought into the sweet refreshing of an everlasting rest: And at length after four months more, the excellent worker of virtues, and great conqueror of vices S. BENNET, conquered with the weakness of his earthly body, came to his last: It was when the frozen night came on with his winter blasts, to beget a sacred day of eternal, and clear light of felicity. His watchful brethren met together in the Church, with prayers, and psalms to drive away nights horrid shadows, and to comfort the grief of their dear father's departure, with the continual singing of the divine praises. Some would not budge out of the chamber, and from the bed's side in which the strong sick-man lay; expecting by the passage of death, to take the sweet entrance of life. With desire they expected that as his example, taught them how to live well, by the same they might likewise learn how to die. For the further mitigating of his grief, the Gospel was read all night (as it was wont) by a Priest that attended on him. The hour of his departure drawing near the Sacrament of CHRIST'S facaed body was given him for his viaticum; and so that blessed soul, having been a long time parched, and examined in the flames of an happy tribulation, forsaketh the earthly furnace of the flesh, and being at liberty, took a long desired flight to the never-dieing glory of His death. celestial happiness. This glorious Confessor died in the year of our Lord 690. the twelfth day of january, when he had governed his monastery sixteen years, eight by himself, and other eight with the assistance of his holy Colleagues Eosterwin, Sigfrid, and Colfrid. He was buried in the Church of S. PETER, which he built, that so he might not be separated from him in death, whom he ever loved in his life: and by whose aid the gates of heaven were opened unto him. His life is written by S. BEDE, whom we have followed. VSVARD, MALMESBURY, WIGORNIENSIS, JOHN CAPGRAVE, BARONIUS, and other grave Authors make honourable mention of his virtues. This Saint BENNET was the first that reduced the BENEDICTIN order in S. Bennet Batrone of the modern Congregation of England. England into the form, and government of a Congregation; that is, when many monasteries are under own head, or superior, who during his time (whether it be perpetual or determined upon years) is supreme monarch, as it were, of them all. And for this cause the English Congregation of Benedictin Monks now extant, and derived immediately from the ancient Congregation of England, both by succession, and Apostolical privilege, honoureth this glorious Saint as their chief Patron, next after the universal Patriarch of the whole order great S. BENEDICT himself, and Saint AUGUSTIN our first Apostle. For albeit in the beginning the Congregation which he erected, consisted only of two monasteries (as may be seen in his life) yet afterwards the whole number of the Black Benedictin Monks in England was ranged into one Congregation; as appears by the bull of Pope Innocentius the third granted unto them. And in like manner as the Congregation of Clunie, and others began from a small number, to grow to such greatness, so likewise did that of England, from the uniting of the said two monasteries by S. BENNET BISCOP, increase to a general union of all the Benedictin Monks throughout the whole Jland. The life of S. ALLURED Abbot and Confessor of the holy order of S. BENEDICT. JAN. 12. Written by John Capgrave ALLURED borne in England of nobles parents, was brought up from his tender age in the fear of God, and good learning; he learned, even in his youth, to undegoe the sweet yoke of our Lord, remaining always in the innocence of his life pure from all spot of sin. His piety and learning increasing daily with his age, he gained so great favour and love with David King of the Scots, that he esteemed him before most of his court, and had exalted him to a Bishopric, had not his entrance into a He refuseth a Bishoprik. religious order hindered it. In all occasions this holy youth carried himself with so great piety, and meekness, as no injury could move him to anger; no opprobrious speeches could provoke him to revenge: he always endeavoured to repay hatred with love, to render good for evil, & to overcome envy with duty and service. A certain knight perceaving him to be beloved, and honoured of the King more than any other, raised a hateful and malignant persecution against him, and grew so fierce in his malice, that he was not afray sometimes openly to vomit part of his venom against him with injurious words before the King himself. To whom the holy man with a mild and unmoved countenance: You speak very well (said he) and honestly, I know your tongue was never acquainted with untruths; and therefore I take you to be His rare humility & patience. my very good friend. The knight finding him to be a firm rock, whom all the outrageous storms of his malice and hatred could not move, nor stir from the ground of virtue, suffered a willing overthrow in his wicked endeavours, and showing the effects of a repentant mind, demanded pardon for his great temereity, promising from thence forth ever to oblige himself unto him in an unfeigned league of friendship. To whom ALLURED: I confess (said he) I rejoice heartily at thy repentance, and therefore I shall love thee better fare than ever; for thy hatred to me hath increased my A good lesson. love to my dear Redeemer: and my patience being exercised, and tried hereby, hath perhaps bina means to make me profit a little in my duty to almighty God. Thus this B. man from the briers of other men's malice reaped the sweetroses of virtues unto himself. II. AFTER this, meaning to bid adieu to the world, and all He taketh the habit of a monk the vanities thereof, he went unto the Abbey of Rhievall or Ridall in Yorkshire, and put on the habit of a Bernardin Monk under the holy rule of S. BENEDICT. In which solitary kind of life, giving himself wholly to contemplation of heavenly things, and the continual exercise of true religious, and monastical virtues, he attained to such perfection, that like the moon amongst the lesser stars, he shined amongst the rest of his brethren in all manner of virtuous life and behaviour. And shortly aster he was so He is made Master of the novices. good a proficient him felt, that he was thought able to read a lesson of virtue unto others, and therefore the education of the novices, or probationers, was committed to this charge. But whilst he executed that office, there was an unconstant Clerk that entered into the order, whose vocation after a small trial began to waver, like a reed in the wind. His unsteadfast mind being perceived, his good Master earnestly requested almighty God to give him the grace of perseverance. Soon after the same Brother desiring to return into the world, opened the thoughts of his heart unto his Master, saying that his weakness was not able to endure the hardness of the order, that all things therein were contrary to his nature, that he could not undegoe their daily pains and exercises, that he was grievously vexed, and tortured with their long watching, that he often fainted under his manual and daily labours: that the roughness, and rudeness of his did pierce his tender skin, and that indeed his will was rather inclined to follow secular delights, and worldly lusts, and pleasures then to break his back with such austerity. And I (replied his Master) will prepare thee daintier meats, and gentler clothing, and in all things else belonging to thy profession I will be more indulgent unto thee. I will not stay (said he) although it were to be master of all the wealth in the house. Neither will I taste any food (replied ALLURED) until God all mighty bring thee back again, either willing, or nilling. The one runs to the gate to be gone; the other enters into his chamber to pray that he should not go. The holy man laments the loss of his son, and with the deep sighs of a sorrowful heart bewailing his great temereity, refuseth to receive any consolation. The fugitive coming to the gate, which to his sight A notable miracle. was wide open, found it either not to be so indeed, or else some thing else stronger than a gate to be shut against him; for having often times striven with all his force to go ●orth, he failed of his purpose, and was not able to pass over that place, where the gate was wont to stand being shut. Being strucken with admiration hereat, he returned to his master, before whom with great signs of repentance, he humbly demanded pardon of his folly, promising to remain constant, and steadfast in his vocation ever after: His Master with tears of joy entertained him, giving humble thankes to almighty God for his goodness. III. S. ALYRED was second to none in those days in all manner of learning both divine and humane, and his knowledge being ennobled with the rich ornaments of virtue, and religion, moved his brethren by common consent to elect him for their Abbot of Rhievall: In which dignity, as if all his former life had been but a He is chosen Abbot of Rhievall. shadow, or figure of true religion, he began as it were to reform and wind himself up into a fare higher degree of austerity, and devotion: and when as now he might assume more liberty, he contrary to custom did quite abridge himself of all such things as might give his body content: in his diet so sparing, that his extreme abstinence made him seem to bear the shape rather of a spirit, then of a man. He increased the number of his Monks to one hundred and fifty, and five hundred brethren. For the space of ten years before his death, being cruelly vexed with the stone-collick, and the gout, he made use thereof for the better trial of his humility, and patience, in which virtues he was excellent; not ceasing nevertheless to write spiritual books, and homilies upon the Gospel, to preach often unto his brethren, always conforming his own life to whatsoever proceeded either from his pen, or tongue. In his writings, sayings, do, and all his manner of life he was a most diligent imitator of the great father of his Order S. BERNARD. Always meek, humble, patiented, and one that both in himself, and with others, and amongst all men was so peaceable that it fare exceeds the force of this pen to express, or any heart to think, how entirely and sincerely, he did embrace, purchase, and nourish true peace, and concord. iv AS ONCE he sat before the fire being so cruelly tormented with the colic, that through the sharp convulsions of his grief he was forced to sit double with his head bend down between his knees, there comes into the room one of the brethren that long before hated him for his goodness, and now spieing this opportunity to be advantageous for his revenge, stole behind him sitting in that manner, and with all his force thrust him violently into the fire; crying out aloud: Now thou art justly punished'for thy hypocrisy, and falsehood: Hereuppon some of the Monks coming to the noise, got up the holy Abbot out of the fire, and out of a zealous anger began to lay violent hands upon the author of this mischief. But the blessed Saint forgetting his infirmity, His wonderful patience. and still mindful of charity, strictly forbadd them from that enterprise: Cease, cease (said he) my dear children, and do not rob your wretched father of his garment of patience. Alas I am not angry, I am not hurt, I am not troubled at this; my child it was that cast me into the fire, and hereby he hath not urged me my death, but purged my imperfections. He is my child albeit weak and imperfect: And indeed I am not sound in body myself, but his weakness hath cured the imperfection of my soul. And here withal embracing him about the neck, he gave him the loving salutation of peace, and as though he had endured no wrong at all, he studied with all gentleness to mitigate the fury of his heart, which without cause was enraged against him. V FOUR years before his death, he had his body perfectly exempted & discharged from all pleasure of enjoying this life, for he brought it so lean, and bare with continual fasting, watching, sickness, and other voluntary austerities, that nothing but the skin was left to cover the naked bone. And in all his infirmities he would not hear of a physician, but contemning for the love of God all remedies of the body, he only busied himself about that one thing which is necessary, to provide for the health of his soul. He read such books as would move his heart to melt into tears of sorrow and compunction, and instruct him in the way of good life and manners; and amongst many others he used very much to read S. AUGUSTINS' confessions. He was often wont to sit in a hollow place made in the floor of his Oratory, piously ruminating with himself that from earth he came, and into earth she should return. In a word, living on earth, his conver sation was in heaven, for often times he enjoyed the vi●ion of the blessed Angels, with whom he conversed as familiarly, as with his own brethren. Many other miracles are reported to have been wrought by this holy Saint, which we omit. VI A YEAR before his death, unto his other infirmities was added the cruelty of a dry cough, which finding a body already weakened, brought him to such extremity, that often times having said Mass, he was compelled to lie down on his bed for the space of an hour, being neither able to move, nor speak a word. He foretold unto one of his brethren the hour of his death two days before; which being at hand he caused them all to come together, and exhorting them to the love of patience, humility, and other virtues, full of good works and merits, he yielded up his blessed soul, to receive a crown of justice, at the hands of the just judge, the twelfth day of january, in the year of our redemption 1166. during the reign of Henry the second. And in success of time he was registered into the number of canonised Saints. This life is gathered chief out of JOHN CAPGRAVE, or JOANNES ANGLICUS, most of our English Historiographers do largely speak his praises. The life of S. KENTIGERNE Bishop and Confessor. JAN. 13. Written by Joscelinus. LOTHUS the Heathen King of the Picts had a fair daughter called Thamet, who by the often hearing and attending to the preachings of God's servants, the power of the divine grace concurring thereunto, was converted to the Christian faith. This Thamet having been ravished by the lascivious violence of a noble man of the court, was in punishment of that faultless fault, by His parents. the laws of the country, and her own father's decree, adjudged to be cast down headlong from the top of a steep hill so to perish. In the execution of which cruelty, recommending herself to almighty God, and lifting up her hands and eyes towards heaven for aid, she was thrown down backwards, but by the hand of him that saveth those who truly call upon him, she was delivered from receiving any hurt at all. Which miracle her Pagan father ascribing to the power of art magic, caused her presently to be put into a leather boat, and without either sail, or oar, to be committed to the uncertain conduct of the winds and waves. But the almighty protector and ruler of the s●as, brought her safe to an other port, where she went on land, and came at length to the town of El●e or Assaph in Flintshire, His birth and there she was delivered of a boy who being baptised by Seruanus a holy man of that country, was named KENTIGERNE. Such was the birth and parentage of this Saint, who although he may seem to have contracted some stain of honour therein, yet his worthy manner of life so clearly washed away all spot of any such imputation, that for true virtue, life, and learning he became an example to be set in balance with any holy man of those times. His youth was first trained up in the virtuous school of Seruanus, under whom he profitted in a short time beyond all his other school fellows both in learning and virtue; purchasing by his own towardness, such a singular love with his good master, that he was wont to call him Munghu, that is, most dear friend, and by that name he was ever after honoured and called upon by the people of that country, in their devotions unto him. But the malice of envious persons (who because they could not attain, began to hate so great goodness) foreing him to departed from his master Sernanus, he went into Scotland to a place called Glasghu, where he led a His anstere life, and penance. very austere and holy life. In his poor clothing and diet, he bore the true pattern of an other JOHN baptist. His were made of goate-skinnes; he would fast oft times without tasting any meat the space of three days; neither would he then seek after dainties, but was content to eat such things as first came to hand. He abstained from flesh and wine perpetually. His sleep was very little, which when nature compelled him unto he took lying along in a hollow stone with a great stone under his head, in steed of a pillow. To this austerie, he added the rudeness of a shirt of hayre-cloathe, which he always wore next his skin. And in this poverty did he travel over that country, preaching, teaching, and converting great multitudes of people of the faith, till at length by He is made Bishop. the common consent of the King and Clergy, but much against his own will, he was exalted to the sacred dignity of Bishop in the sea of Glasghu Which honour nothing altered him in his rigid and strict kind of life, but rather served as a spur to increase his wont austerity. II. HE WOULD walk abroad always in his albe, and stole, with his crosier-staff in his hand, which although it were but of plain wood, yet he was (if I may so call him) a golden Bishop, shining His manner of prayer & mortification. to the world with great examples of charity, and good works. Every night, after a short refreshing of sleep, he would go naked into the cold water and in that manner recite over the whole Psalter; and this custom he always observed in despite of winter's frost and snow, unless his sickness, or some other necessary journey did hinder him: and then he would make amends with some other spiritual exercise. So entirely had he mortified, and deadened in himself all the lafcivious instigations, and motions of the flesh, that, as he would often tell his disciples, he was no more provoked to lust at the sight, or touching of the fairest woman in the world, then in the cold embracing of a hard stone. Often times whilst he preached, there appeared a white dove over his head, with a beak, as it were, of gold. Every lent he would segregate His observance of Lent. himself from all company, and live in some desert place, eating no other food but herbs and roots. On Maundie thursday he was wont for the exercise of his humility, having gathered a company of poor people, and lepers together, to wash their feet with water, his own tears in the mean time concurring thereunto: and having wiped and dried them first with a towel, and then with his own kisses, he would attend on them at table with all submission and diligence. On good Friday, in memory of our Lord's Passion, he spent almost the whole day, and some part of the night in scourging & chastising his body with sharp whips and stripes, until his own nakedness did blush at this his piously cruel piety. On holy Saturday, or Easter Eve, excepting the time of the divine office, he always lay hid in a certain grave or sepulchre within the ground, in contemplation of our Lord's passion, and punishing himself with stripes, till the hour of our Saviour's resurrection the next morning. By his preaching he reduced the infidels o● his diocese unto the Catholic faith, and with the force of his sacred doctrine, he reduced all Apostates, and heretics to the safe bosom of our holy mother the Church: he demolished all diabolical Idols; built some Churches, allotted certain limits and bounds unto Parishes; and where soever he traveled in this spiritual traffic to gain souls, he would not make his journeys on horse back, but always on foot, as did the Apostles. And lest he might seem to eat his bread in Idleness, he laboured many times with his own hands in the tillage of his land. III. AFTER the death of King Morken, during whose reign he was made Bishop, the kinsmen of the same King, like the sons of Beliall, plotted, and conspired his death; whereof the holy man being admonished by revelation from God, he took his journey into Southwalls, which country was at that time richly beautified with the flourishing virtues of S. DAVID, with whom having spent some time, he received of the King of that country called Cathwalla, a piece of land to build a monastery. And having erected a He buildeth a monastery. monastery at Ell in Flintshire, he there constituted his Episcopal sea. He gathered together in that monastery the number of nine hundred threescore and odd Monks, which all served God under regular discipline in a very strict and rigid manner of life: Three hundred of the most unlearned of them, were deputed to the labour of husbandry to toil and ●ill the fields, and keep sheep, & other cattle: other three hundred were employed in works within the The manner of life of the ancient monks. monastery, to provide victuals, and other necessaries: and the rest, which were sufficiently learned, were allotted to the quire, night and day, to celebrate the divine office: and none of these were easily permitted to wander abroad, but were bound to the limits of their monastery, as to the Sanctuary of our Lord. The holy Bishop divided them into diverse companies or convents; and as one company ended the divine office in the Church, an other presently entered to begin the same again, and that having done, comes a third company in like manner; so that by the continual succession of the diverse companies, the divine service was maintained in that Church night and day without any intermission. Amongst these Monks there was one called Asaph a man of very great virtue, and a worker of many miracles, him S. KENTIGERNE loved above all the rest, and for his virtuous life he delivered unto his hands the care of the monastery, and appointed him for his successor in the Bishopric. iv THE HOLY man remaining on a time longer at his devotions then his ordinary custom was, his face appeared fiery and glistening, to the great admiration of the beholders: and after his prayers were ended, he fell into most grievous lamentations, which He hath a revelation of S. David's death moved some of his disciples humbly to request him to declare the cause of his so great sadness. To whom after a silent pause: You must know (said he) my dear children, that the crown, and glory of Brittany, and worthy father of his country S. DAVID, is now departed out of the prison of his body, to receive his rewards in heaven. Believe me, I beheld not only a great multitude of Angels, but the Lord of Angels CHRIST JESUS himself, come to meet him, and lead him into the glory of his heavenly paradise. Know likewise that our Brittany being deprived of this her great light will groan for the loss of so great a Patron, who Praise of S. David. whilst he lived, was the only buckler of our defence against the revengeful sword of God's just anger, half drawn out to punish the malice of our Country; and long since, had not his virtue withheld it, had made a general slaughter amongst us. Now therefore our Lord will deliver this country into the hands of strange nations, which neither acknowledge him for God, nor his religion for the truth. And this our wretched Isle shall be inhabited He prophesieth the misery of Briny. by Pagans, and all Christian religion therein shall for a time be utterly destroyed, but afterwards by the wonderful mercy of almighty God, all shall be repaired again, and the country reduced notonely into her ancient, but into a fare better and more flourishing state of religion. V THIS Blessed Saint had been seven times at Rome, where unto S. GREGORY the great, afterwards Apostle of the English, Bishops confirmed by the Pope. he related the whole course of his life, the manner of his election, and consecration, and all other chances which had befallen him. The holy Pope understanding him to be a man of God, and full of the grace of the holy Ghost, confirmed his consecration, which he knew to have proceeded from God, and supplieing, according to his earnest desire, such ceremonies as had been omitted therein, he dismissed him unto his pious charge by the holy Ghost enjoined. VI IN THE mean time death having exercised his revenge on all the holy man's enemies in Albany, or Scotland, the inhabitants thereof forsaking the way of truth, and returning like dogs to feed upon their own vomit, fell again into the rite● of flat Idolatry. And therewithal the heavens and elements with drawing their usual influences caused a general famine, and dearth in their country. Till at length almighty God raised a King named Redereth, who having been baptised in Ireland by the disciples of S. PATRICK, with all his heart honoured almighty God, and studied by all means to restore his kingdom to the true faith of CHRIST. He sent therefore messengers with letters directed unto S. KENTIGERNE, earnestly desiring him by the name, and love of our Lord, to return to his desolate flock, that was left destitute of all care and cure; affirming it to be a thing unworthy for a pastor to forsake his sheep, & a Bishop his Church, for whose love he ought to lay his soul at stake, unless he would turn a mercenary, who flies for fear of persecution. Likewise he assured him that his enemies which sought his life, had already in seeking it lost their own. Therefore the holy man ordaining S. ASAP● his successor with six hundred and threescore of his Monks, took his S. Kentigerne returned into Scotl. journey towards Glasghn. The king giving thankes to almighty God with a great multitude of people, went to give him the meeting, and to receive him with honour due unto so great a Saint. He having first given his benediction to the whole company, said: All those whosoever envy the salvation of men, and are adversaries unto the word of God, I command them by the virtue and power of our Lord JESUS CHRIST suddenly to departed hence, lest they be an hindrance unto those who will receive the truth. At Note a straying miracle, & virtue of his words. these words, agreat multitude of most horrible, and ugly spirits was scene to fly out of that company with wonderful swiftness; at which sight they all trembled with the very apprehension and fear. But the Saint exhorting them to take courage, and comfort, gave them to understand what goblins they did believe in, and thereupon incited them to give credit unto the true faith of JESUS CHRIST: when in a short time by his continual preaching and miracles, he recovered all the inhabitants of that country out of the The fruits of his preachings. black night of Idolatry, to see the clear day of Christ's Gospel. And presently the heavens gave them rain, and the earth, which before was barren, brought forth fruit in due season. also he purged the country of the Picts now called Galloway, from the blindness of idolatry, and heresy: he converted Albany, and founded there many Churches, and monasteries. He sent some of his disciples to the Scottish Isles called Orkney, to Norway, and Island, to His many miracles. bring unto those nations the joyful tidings of CHRIST'S Gospel. Wheresoever he himself either traveled, or preached, he gave sight to the blind, hearing to the deaf, speech to the dumb, cured the lame, cast out devils from possessed persons, restored madmen to their senses, healed leprosies, palsies, and all other diseases. Some times by the only touching of his garments, or taking some little particles of his meat, or drink, many sick persons recovered their desired health. The Queen that had been a long time sterile, through his prayers obtained a son of almighty God, who afterwards succeeding his father in the kingdom, excelled all his predecessors in wealth and piety. VII. S. COLUMB hearing the fame of S. KENTIGERNE, came from his monastery in the Island Hij with a great company of his monks He maketh great league with S. Columb. to visit him, and enter into a league of friendship and familiarity with him. And coming near unto the place where the holy Bishop was, he divided his whole company into three troops. The Bishop likewise that came to meet him, did in the same manner divide his followers into three squadrons, in the first he placed the juniors or younger sort, in the second those of a middle age, and in the third old aged men, venerable in their grey hairs. And as these two sacred armies of JESUS CHRIST marched towards each other, they song spiritual hymns and canticles on both sides: and S. COLUMB to his followers; I see (said he) over the third quire a fiery light in manner of a golden crown, to descend from heaven upon the Bishop's head. But the two holy leaders of these troops coming near together, saluted each other with mutual embracings, and holy kisses of love, and friendship; in testimony thereof they changed their pastoral staffs, and the staff which S. COLUMB gave the Bishop, was kept afterwards with great reverence in S. WULFERS Church at Rippon. VIII. A MIGHTY great stone cross being made, for the Churchyard of Glasghn which could not be erected by men's strength, was at A cross set up miraculously. the prayer of the holy man set up in the night by an Angel. And in that place afterwards the divine goodness granted perfect health unto many diseased persons that craved it, by the merits of S. KENTIGERNE. He built a mille upon the river Gladus, that would never grind any stolen corn, neither could the stones, or wheels thereof by any force be turned about from Saturday noon, till monday morning. IX. AT LENGTH the holy man being so fare spent with ouldage, as his withered sinews did scarce hang his joints together, and His last exhortation to his disciples. perceaving that the hour of his death was at hand, he called his disciples about him, and exhorting them with a dieing voice to the conseruance of true religion, mutual charity, peace, and hospitality, he gave them an express, and strict command firmly to observe the decrees of the ancient holy fathers, and ever to follow the institutions of the Catholic Roman Church. When many of his disciples, who most dear loved him, falling prostrate before him cried out with weeping words: We know, dear father, that thou dost desire to be dissolved from thy aged body, to reign with CHRIST: but we humbly beseech thee to take pity on us, whom thou hast gained to the service of CHRIST. Confession of sinne●. In whatsoever our humane frailty hath offended, we have always confessed unto thee, desiring to be corrected by the arbitrement of thy discretion. Obtain therefore of almighty God that together with thee we may departed out of this vale of tears and miseries, to the everlasting joys of our dear Lord: for unto us it seemeth a thing unfitting, that either a Bishop without his Clergy, a shepherd without his flock, or a father without his children should enter into the joys of his Lord. The holy man being moved with pity, fetching his breath as well as he was able: The sacred will of God (said he) be fulfiled in us all, and according as he knows best, and as he pleaseth, let his divine providence dispose of us all. Hereuppon being admonished by an Angel, that his prayer was heard, he was likewise willed to enter into a warm bath, in which lifting up his hands and eyes towards heaven, he resolved as it were into a sweet sleep, and yielded up The manner of his death. his blessed soul into the hands of his Redeemer. It pleased the heavenly wisdom to give his servant this pleasant kind of death, whose life was a continual martyrdom. His disciples having taken his body out of the bath, many of them entering therein, had the favour to follow their holy leader into the heavenly dwellings. He died the thirteenth day of january, about the year of our Lord 596. and in the hundred eighty fift year of his age, when he had been Bishop an hundred and threescore years, famous for sainctetie and miracles. He was buried in the Church of Glasghu, at whose tomb all manner of diseases were miraculously cured. His life was written by JOSGELINUS an ancient author, JOANNES ANGLICUS, and JOHN CAPGRAVE, whom we have followed. Of him make mention NICHOLAS HARPSFIELD histor. Ecclesiast. sex primis saec. cap. 28. ARNOLD WION, and others. The life of S. PETER Abbot of the holy order of Saint BENEDICT. JAN. 13. Out of venerable Bede. PETER was a Roman Monk of S. benedict's order, and one of those which were sent by S. GREGORY the great with our first Apostle S. AUGUSTIN to preach the Gospel of CHRIST unto the English nation. S. AUGUSTIN being consecrated Archbishop of Canturbury, sent back Laurence, and Peter his fellows, to bring news unto the holy Pope of their good success in the conversion of England, and allsoe by his prudence and counsel to be resolved of some difficulties, which arose in the planting of Catholic religion in that new Church. This S. PETER at his return into England was by the same S. AUGUSTIN ordained the first Abbot of the Benedictin monastery of Canturburie, erected by King Ethelbert, in honour of the Apostles S. PETER, and S. PAUL. Of the time, and manner of his government in this office we have nothing certain; but that he led a very virtuous and holy life, it is manifest, by that which S. BEDE writes of him: At length (saith he) being sent Ambassador into France, he chanced to be drowned in a gulf of the sea between two c●pes, at a place called Ampleat; and being by the inhabitants committed to an ignoble burial, it pleased almighty God to make known, of how great merit the holy man was, by an heavenly light which appeared every night over his grave, until the neighbours understood thereby, that certainly it was a holy man that lay buried there; and being better informed who it was, and whence he came, they took away his body, and carried it to the city of Bullein, where it was buried in a Church, after such reverend, and honourable manner as became so worthy a holy man. He died about the year of Christ 607. Of him do make mention beside S BEDE, TRITHEMIUS in his work of the famous men of S. benedict's order, MOLANUS in his Catalogue of the Saints of Belgia; and others, whom we have followed. The life of S, CEOLULPHE King and Confessor, Monk of the holy order of S. BENEDICT. JAN. 15. Out of venerable Bede de gest. Angl. CEOLULPH, after the death of King Osrick, was made King of the Northumber's: but the beginning, and progress of his government was encumbered with so many difficulties, and adversities, that after some year's trial thereof, entering into a serious consideration with himself of the miserable uncertainty, and uncertain misery of man's life; and perceaving how dangerous were the tumults, and precipices of this world, and that the greatest and most prosperous fortunes of Princes, were most of all subject to decline, and change even in a moment: and calling to mind the strict and rigid account that we must render of all our thoughts and actions at the day of judgement before the dreadful tribunal of the all seeing judge; he began so fare to loathe the care of worldly things, and so to despise those vain honours, He resolveth to be a Benedictin monk that forsaking the Royal estate, and robes of Majesty, he put on the poor weeds of a monastical humility, in the Benedictin monastery of Lindissarne, or Holy-Iland; piously following herein the footsteps of six others his predecessors, English Kings. Now instead of his crown of gold, the token of sovereignty, he wore his hair shaved with a crown made of the same, as the badge of a punishing humility: his royal sceptre by virtue whereof he bore sway, and authority in the world, was now turned to a breviary, whereunto he was wedded, and he that before ruled a kingdom, was now under the check and command of a poor monk his superior: for his chains of gold, which were the ornament of his princely body, he is now content to use a poor pair of beads, and thereon daily to reckon the number of his almost numberless devotions. He was a man in whom a great knowledge of things divine and humane was joined with an excellent piety and singular devotion: so absolutely learned, that venerable BEDE the greatest scholar His learning and piety. and writer of our nation, dedicated his history of England unto him with the title of, MOST GLORIOUS KING, to be by his wisdom not only reviewed, and read, but also approved and if need were, corrected. The often reading of these books (he being of himself much addicted unto the knowledge of antiquities, and especially of England) was a spur unto him already inclined thereunto, to undertake this monastical life: In which when he had lived the space of all most twenty years, in the continual exercise of piety and devotion, he gave up his holy soul, to receive for a temporal kingdom an eternal, amongst other blessed Kings, whom the same pious considerations had caused to leave their sceptres & purples, to be ranged under the humble ensign of S. BENEDICT. The day of his death is unknown, but how full of merits and good works he died, his burial which was near unto His death the great Benedictin monk S. CUTHBERT, and the many miracles which it pleased God to show at his tomb, do give sufficient testimony. Afterwards his body together with S. CUTHBERTS' was taken up and placed in a rich shrine in a more eminent place. Thus much of him we have gathered out of venerable BEDE, WILLIAM MALMESBURY de gest. Reg. Angl. lib. 1. cap. 3. BARONIUS tom. 9 ann. 737. NICOLAS HARPSFIELD saec. 8. cap. 21. ARNOLD WION lib. 4. ligni vitae cap. 6. de Regibus & regnis Benedictini ordinis, and other grave Authors. The life of S. FURSEUS Abbot and Confessor of the holy order of S. BENEDICT. JAN. 16. Out of venerable Bede. FURSEUS borne in Ireland of Royal parents, but more ennobled by his virtues then his birth, was famous for dignity amongst his friends, but excelling over the world in the special gift of divine grace. He was of a beautiful form, chaste of body, devout in mind, affable in discourse, of an amiable aspect, and replenished with grace, and good works: brought up from his very infancy in the continual study of holy scripture, and monastical His youth and learning. discipline. And as he grew in years, so grew he allsoe in the daily increase of virtue, and pious desires. For the better accomplishment whereof, he forsaked his parents, friends, and native soil, and betook himself for the space of some years to the study of holy scriptures; in which in short time he became sufficiently well instructed. But that the world might know that he did not only labour for himself, but for all those that sought the truth, he built a monastery, which served as a free-school of virtue, wherein he taught all that came unto him the true way of salvation. Great was the number of people that flocked together unto this holy teacher of virtue, by whose godly preaching, and devout exhortations, many were not only retired from their bad manner of life, and brought into the right way of salvation; but allsoe were subjected unto the regular observance of a monastical order. Amongst these, he was desirous to have the company of some of his own kinsinen, and for that end, he made a journey unto his native country: but in the way he happened to fall sick, and in this sickness his soul, being as it were separated from her earthly lodging, enjoyed a most delightful vision of Angels, that seemed to lift him up towards heaven, were he beheld an infinite company of heavenly citizens, who with their sweet melody filled his ravished understanding with inestimable joy and comfort. The ditty of their A vision. song was that versicle of the Psalm. Ibu●t Sancti de virtute in virtutem: vi●ebitur Deus Deorum in Zion. Holy men will proceed from virtue to virtue: the God of Gods shall be seen in Zion. This song they repeated oftentimes with such ravishing tunes, as it is fare beyond the force of weak words to express. But being restored to his body, and himself again, about the time that the cock gives warning of the day's approach, he heard, in steed of the melodious harmony of the Angels, the woeful lamentations, and cries of his friends and kinsfollies, who all this time had watched at his body, which they supposed to be dead. But now perceaving him again to come to himself, their lamentation was changed into a fearful admiration, and their admiration bred joy to see him alive. Then the holy man looking about him, and finding no man, unto whose wisdom he could commit the knowledge of the vision he had seen, was very sorrowful; choosing for that time, rather to bury it within the secret of his own heart, then reveal it unto such as knew not how to understand it. II. BUT the third day afterwards being again taken with the like ravishment, he beheld nor only greater joys of the blessed company An other vision most strange. of heaven, but allsoe the wonderful wars, which the wicked spirits raised against him, striving to hinder his journey towards heaven: albeit the protection of the Angels frustrated their malicious endeavours. Many false accusations they brought against him, and laid diverse crimes to his charge, of all which by his guides the Angels, he was freely disengaged. And as he was lifted up by these blessed spirits towards heaven, they commanded him to look down into the world. Which done, he saw like a dark and indeous The 4. fires of vice that burn the world. valley underneath him. And in the air he beheld four fires not fare distant one from the other: which they told him were the fires that should burn and consume the world. The first they said was the fire of Liars: which those fall into, that neglect to fulfil their promise made in Baptism, in renouncing the devil, and all his works. The second was the fire of Covetousness, appointed for such as prefer the riches of the world before the love of heaven, and heavenly things. The third was the fire of Discord, provided for those that stick not to offend their neighbours, even in trifling and superfluous matters. The fourth was the fire of Jmpietie, allotted for such as care not how they spoil, and oppress; see the inferior, and weaker sort of people. He beheld these fires to increase so by little, and little till at length by spreading they came together and made one mighty huge and dreadful flame, which seemed to approach near unto him. Whereat he cried out to his guide the Angel: O Lord, behold it cometh upon me. Fear not (replied he) that which thou hast not kindled shall not burn thee. For although this seem to be a mighty great and terrible fire, yet it only tries, and examines men according as their works have deserved: the worldly desires of men shall burn in these flames. For even as one is inflamed in body by unlawful lust, and pleasure, so released from his body he shall suffer his deserved torments in fire. Then he beheld one of the three Angels his guides, to walk before, and divide the flames, and the other two conducting him on each side through the fire, defended him from the danger thereof. He saw likewise the devils flying through the flames, making fiery wars against the just: then followed their many accusations against him, and the Angel's defence in his behalf, with a vision of a greater company of heavenly spirits; as allsoe of many men of his country and acquaintance, that he had known not unworthily to have behaved themselves in the sacred function of Priesthood, of whom he learned many things very profitable, as well for himself, as for all such as would hear them. When these had ended their discourse, and returned unto heaven with the troops of Angels, there only remained with B. FURSEUS the three Angels his guides; with whom returned again towards the foresaid fire, the Angel divided the flame as before, but as the holy man entered into the way laid open for him, the wicked spirits caught up one of those wretched souls which they broiled in those flames, and threw it at him; at the very touch whereof, he found his shoulder and cheek to be scorched, and burnt. The holy man well knenw the person, and remembered that at his death he had given him a garment which he received. But the holy Angel taking the tormented soul cast him again into the fire: whereat the wicked spirit cried out: Why do you cast him of now, whom you received before. For as you took the goods of that sinner, so ought you to partake of his torments. Not out of covetousness (replied the Angel) but to save his soul did he receive it: and therewith the fire ceased. And the Angel turning unto the holy man, said: that which thou didst kindle, now hath burnt thee: for hadst not thou taken the goods of this man dieing in sin, the torment of his fire had not touched thee. And speaking further, he taught him what was to be done for the salvation of those that did repent. III. BEING restored to himself again, he bore all his life time after a visible sign of the burning which he had endured in his soul, upon his shoulders, and cheek, the Flesh evidently showing to the wonder of all beholders, what the soul had inwardly, and hiddenly suffered. But he retained always his wont care, and diligence of following virtuous & pious courses, by word, work, and example to teach, and preach the way of truth, and justice unto the world. Yet he would never manifest the order and manner of his visions but unto such only, as out of a desire of repentance, or compunction of hearth desired to know them. There liveth yet (saith Proof of the foresaid vision. venerable BEDE) an ancient Monk of our monastery, who is wont to relate, that a certain religious and trusty man▪ told him that he had both seen S. FURSEUS in the province of the East-Angles, and heard the manner of these visions out of his own mouth. Adding moreover, that in the midst of winter, when the frost was most sharp, & cold, that sitting in a light and single garment recounting these visions, either out of the greatness of the fear he conceived, or of the sweetness he received by the remembrance of them, he would sweat as much as if it had been the hottest day of summer. iv HAVING therefore a long time preached the word of God in Jreland his own country, being not able any longer easily to endure the great multitude of people that flocked unto him, he forsook all that he seemed to enjoy, & going out of his native country, with some few of his brethren in his company, he passed the seas, and came through Wales into the province of the English, where he was honourably received, and worthily entertained by Sigebert then King of the East-Angles. But he, that desired wheresoever he went always to promote the service of almighty God, began presently to put in practise his accustomed trade of preadhing, labouring by the example of his virtues, or the inciting forces of his speeches, either to convert the incredulous to the truth, or to strengthn, and confirm the faithful more and more in the truth, and love of JESUS CHRIST. Such were his daily labours, such were the pious employments in which he continually busied all the powers of his soul, and forces of his body. V BUT while these things are thus doing he fell again into an other sickness, during which he enjoyed the delightful vision of An other vision. Angels, that admonished him to proceed with courage, and diligence in the happily begun work of preaching, as also with an invincible patience, to hold on his accustomed exercise of watching, fasting, and prayer: because that his death was certain, but the hour of his death most uncertain. With this vision being much confirmed in his pious courses, he hastened to build a monastery on the land which King Sigebert had given him for that purpose: which done he instituted it with the regular discipline of a monastical life under the holy rule of of S. BENEDICT. The situation of this monastery by reason of the nearness of the sea, and words was very pleasant: it being built in a certain old castle called Cnobbersburg, that is the town of of Cnobber: it was afterwards by Anna King of that province, and many other noblemen, very richly adorned with more stately edifices, and enriched with diverse gifts of great worth. VI And in this very monastery King Sigebert himself, being weary Harp. saec. 7. cap. 15. King Sigebert becometh a Benedictin monk of the world and worldly cares, and desiring to give his mind only unto God, put of his princely robes, and leaving the government of his King do unto his cousin Edrick, betook himself to live under the humble weeds of a Benedictin Monk; judging it more honourable in a cloister to conquer himself by obeying, then in the world to bear sway over others by commanding. But long he had not enjoyed this quiet life, when wicked Penda King of the Mercians making war against his forsaken Kingdom, he was by force taken out of the monastery by his own friends, and made General of their army, which they presupposed would be much heartened and encouraged with his presence: Who to show that his profession was dearer to him then his life, put on no other armour than a good conscience, nor taking other weapon than a little rod in The canfidence of a secure conscience. his hand, went securely, though unwillingly, against the bloud-thirsting armies of his and CHRIST'S enemies, where both he himself, and King Egrick, unto whom he had left the kingdom, happily lost this life to win a better. VII. BUT let's us return unto S. FURSEUS who now having, as we have said, built a monastery, and established it with the rule and disciple of a monastical order, being desirous to free himself not only from all worldly cares, but allsoe from the government of his monastery, gave up the whole care thereof unto his brother Fullanus; and being at liberty, he so disposed of himself as meaning to spend and end the remainder of his life in an Anachoreticall or Eremitical life. He had an other brother called Vltanus, who out of the continual probation of the monastical, and cloister manner of living had betaken himself to the solitariness of the desert. Unto him FURSEUS went alone, and together with him, he lived by the labour of his hands for the space of a whole year in continual fasting and prayer, & doing of penance. But perceaving the country to be much disquieted by the frequent incursions of Pagans, and foreseeing the eminent danger of the monasteries, leaving all things in good order he sailed into France, where being honourably entertained by the French King Clovis the second, and Erconwald then Provost of Peronne; he built a monastery in a place called Latiniacum, into which were introduced the monks of S. benedict's order, for as yet and many years after there was no other rule on foot but his, in all the Occidental Church. And not long after S. FURSEUS falling sick, he quickly felt the vehemency of his disease to grow so strongly upon him as he plainly perceived his time to draw near: therefore recommending himself unto God, and lifting up his eyes towards heaven, he yielded up his pure soul into the hands of his Redeemer, the sixteenth day of January. Erconwald caused his body to be reserved in the Church Porch of Peronne, where it remained for the space of twenty fix days till the consecration of the newbuilt Church in the same town was finished: at what time being taken up it was found with no more sign of corruption then if he had died but that very hour. VIII. FOUR years after a little chapel being erected on the East side of the high altar, and dedicated to S. FURSEUS, his body was taken, up again by the worthy Bishops Eligius and Ausbertus, and found to be uncorrupted as before; it was translated thither in most honourable manner: where it hath most manifestly appeared unto the world that through his merits diverse miracles have been wrought by the almighty worker of miracles who is wonderful in his Saints for ever. He flourished about the year 636. or as others say, 650. VSVARD, TRITHEMIUS, MOLANUS, BARONIUS, RABANUS MAURUS, and many others do make mention of S. FURSEUS. But this life we have taken principally out of venerable BEDES history of England. The life of S. HENRY Hermite Confessor. JAN. 16. HENRY was borne of the nobler sort of Danes, & being come to such age as his face betrayed his sex, his parents earnestly solicited him to marry; whereunto in the beginning he seemed not unwilling: but the appointed day of his marriage drawing nigh, it was revealed unto him in a vision that he ought to abstain from all carnal copulation, and to keep himself chaste and pure from this world, by studieing rather how to please God, than a wife. Whereupon suddenly leaving all his friends, and freeing He refuseth to marry. himself of the possession of those goods he enjoyed, he took shipping at Tinemouth, and sailed about twenty miles into the sea to an Island on the East side of Northumberland named Cocket from the river Cocket running there by: this Island was in ancient times very famous for a holy Convent of Monks that lived there. S. HENRY being thither arrived, with leave of the Prior he entered the Island, and having built himself a little lodge scarce of force to beat of the injury of the weather, he began to serve God in great rigour & austerity of life. For the space of some years he fasted continually His rigorous fasting. only with bread and water; afterwards he eat but thrice a week and three days in the week kept silence. In four years before he died he satisfied his hunger only with little cakes dried in the sun, made of barley meal mixed with pure water. II. GOING upon a time in pilgrimage to Durham, he came to the banks of the river Wyre, & not finding a boat ready to carry him over, he made his prayer to almighty God, and presently without the help of man, a boat loosed of its own accord from the other A straying miracle. side of the river, and came over to the bank where he sat; into which he entered with his companion, and without any sail or oar, they were both wafted over in a moment. Having performed this pilgrimage, he returned to the place of his beloved solitude, where by the instigation of the devil, the firebrand of all mischief, he endured most vehement tentations of the flesh, that grew so strongly upon him, as often times he wished rather to suffer death itself, than so painfully to struggle and fight against those importune allurements. To increase these vexations the Monk that was guardian or overseer of the Island, did often treat him with very sharp language, casting to his teeth many contumelious, and disdainful speeches, till at length admiring the wonderful humility, joined to the continual piety and devotion of the man, he threw himself prostrate at his feet, and with weeping entreaties humbly craved pardon for his temereity. The holy man with great joy taking him from the ground quickly pardoned whatsoever he had committed against him: and from thence forth their minds were ever after united in the band of true love and charity. III. IN THE mean time messengers are sent from his parents, His friend's endeavour to recall him, but in vain. who earnestly desire him to voutchafe to come over, and visit his native country, friends, and kinsfolks; which he utterly refused to do, stoutly affirming that for the love of CHRIST, and hope of eternal life he had quite forsaken his country, and whatsoever else was dear unto him therein, and therefore to return to it again, were to incur that hard censure of CHRIST. Whoesoever layeth his hand to the plough, and looketh back, is not worthy of the Kingdom of heaven. They replied that Luc. 9 v. 62. in his own country there were many desert, and solitary places much fit for his purpose then this, which did expect him, and should be at his free disposition. Hereat being moved with a natural love to his own country, he gave some ear to their peaswasions, but differred to give them his absolute resolution till the next morrow, promising in the mean time to do whatsoever should be pleasing and acceptable unto God. The night following musing and pondering many things in his mind, and being wholly ignorant and uncertain what course to take, he had recourse unto almighty God, beseeching him with prayers washed i● the streams of his own tears, to inspire what would be most acceptable unto his divine goodness for him to do. When as he prayed, he heard a voice (seeming to come from the Crucifix before him) that forbade him to departed from this solitude, but courageously to hold on in the course he had begun, promising a crown of glory for the reward of his labours, and perseverance. Then falling prostrate See the force of his pious resolution. on the ground, giving thankes unto almighty God, he desired that he would give him such an impediment, as should hinder and retain him there, although he were desirous and willing to departed. He had his desire, for as he gave himself to sleep being wearied with the instancy of his watching, and prayer, he was suddenly strucken, as it were with a sword, that made him break of his sleep scarce well begun; and putting down his hand he felt him s●l● wounded with a most grievous pain on his knee, which growing daily worse and worse, grew at length to a mighty ulcer, out of which every day ran great store of corrupted matter, with such a stench, as it was insufferable to those that came near him: insoemuch that the messengers, that came to fetch him thence, returned well enough satisfied, supposing that his friends (albeit he were willing) would not desire the company of a creature so loathsome as now he was. iv NOTWITHSTANDING all this, the holy man lived by the labour of his own hands, and continued his daily work in tilling his little piece of ground, which as he digged, he was glad to sustain his own unableness by the help of a staff. When he waxed weary of working, he wouldsitt him down on a stone to rest, and expose his A straying example. sore to the face of the sun, with the heat whereof, the corrupted breed of the hidden filth therein, which was great store of creeping worms, would sally or issue forth; but (see the wonderful patience o● this holy man) as they sell to the earth he would gather them up again and restore them to their former possession, saying; Return, return, and consume the impure origine of your own nature, whose inheritance you are. almighty God granted to his tilling of a barren piece of ground, an incredible increase of fruit from the little earth he had, and an increase of patience unto himself: for by how much the more sharply, and miserably the force of his grief did pierce into the strength of his body; with so much the more alacrity of heart, in the anguish of his tribulation, did he always give thankes unto his Maker, and refer himself to the disposition of his divine will, and providence. V THIS Blessed Hermit was so illuminated by God, that he was wont to see and foretell not only things present, and at hand, His gift of farresoeing & foreseeing. but alsoe such as passed a fare off, and were but in future. For as once the Monk Guardian of the Island came into his oratory, he found him prostrate before the altar powering out a flood of bitter tears, which seemed to betray some great anguish of mind; of whom the Monk demanded the cause of his sorrow: he looking upon him with a blubbered face, made this answer: My own brother (said he) by the cruelty of malignant people is murdered within my Fathers own land: and our Lord hath privileged and licenced Prayers and penance for the dead. me to do worthy penance for his soul. Therefore (my beloved master) be you a publisher of this my woe, unto the Religious and others of your knowledge, that by the help of your prayers, suffrages, and almsdeeds he may be found worthy to receive absolution from the pains, that his sins deserve. VI ONE THAT some days before had bestowed a towel upon him, came again to visit him; to whom the Saint: Hast thou as yet (said he) pacified the wrath of thy angry wife, whose discontent was so violent against thee for the small gift bestowed upon me? Here take it again, and give it her if that will make her patiented with thee hereafter. Thus would he object, and reveal unto many that came unto him, those things which they thought to be most hidden, and secret, as directly as if he had seen all with his corporal eyes: and of their secret faults he would sharply reprehend them, to the great wonder and admiration of the doers. VII. AT LENGTH when like an other Job, in the continual suffering of his loathsome grief, being alone in his poor cottage without the assistance of any man, he had passed over some years, overcoming many a tedious day, & irksome night with wonderful patience, the hour of his death drawing near, wherein he should receive Heavenly music at his death. the everlasting rewards of his labours, there was heard in the air over his cell most melodious tunes of heavenly voices, that enterchaingeably sung the hymn TE DEUM LAUDAMUS, to the end. In the mean time, a Monk that heard the sound of his little bell, ran thither, and found him sitting on a stone with the bell-rope in one hand, and a candle burning in the other: And perceaving him to be dead, he put of his garment, and his hayre-cloath-shirt, & having washed his body with water, it became suddenly as white, and clear as snow, neither did there remain on his skin any sign or scar of his former grief to be perceived. His face seemed so beautiful and resplendent, as he could hardly be known for the man he had been; and he appeared as though not death, but a sweet sleep had seized on his body. VIII. THE Benedictine Monks of Tinemouth hearing of his departure, met together to carry away the body, and bury it in their Church, but the people of the next Parish, fearing much to be rob of so great a treasure, according to their foretaken counsel gathered a multitude of men together and endeavoured to prevent the Monks by taking away the body by force to bury it in their own church. But they were no sooner at sea, but there arose a thick mist, which painted the face of heaven with such an hidcous & dark picture of night, that those ravishers wandered out of their way they knew not whither, losing both themselves, and the prey they sought for. The Monks safely arriving at Tinemouth with their holy lading, buried it very honourably near unto the body of S. OSWIN King and Martyr, in an arch of the wall on the south side of the Church: where many miracles were wrought afterwards by the intercession of this glorious Saint. He died in the year of our Lord 1120. the sixteenth day of January. His life is extant at Antwenrp in an ancient manuscript, out of which, JOANNES ANGLICUS, and JOHN CAPGRAVE we have gathered the foresaid history. The life of S. DEICOLA Abbot and Confessor of the holy order of S. BENEDICT. JAN. 18. Written by Peter de Natalibus in cattle. SS. DEICOLA borne in Jreland, when he came to such age that he was able to make use of his time, went into France, where he lived under the worthy Benedictine Abbot S. COLUMBAN in the monastery of 〈◊〉. But when S. COLUMBAN was by King Theodorick banished out of France (a place not worthy to contain his virtues) he took with him into Italy S. DEICOLA, there (being able to carry his old age no further with S. COLUMBAN) he retired himself into a monastery of Benedictin Monks called L●tra in Burgundy, where his holy conversation, and virtuous life was so He is made Abbot of Lutra. excellent, & pleasing to all, and he won so great confidence, that he was made Abbot of the same place, by the free election of the Monks; amongst whom he was admired for his great virtue and miracles. At length overcome with old age, he ga●e up the government of the monastery to a virtuous disciple of h●●●●med Columbine, and retired himself to a secret place, where he spent the small remnant of his life in continual prayer and contemplation of Luc. 10. v. 42. that one thing which is only necessary for the saluatio● of souls. Till feeling the happy minute of his departure to draw nigh, he called his brethren about him, and recommending unto ●hem the observance of true love, and monastical discipline, he denoutly received the last Sacraments, and made a happy change of this tedious His death world for the sweet enjoying of immortal happiness, the eighteenth day of january. His body was buried in the same monastery, where on this day of his deposition, his memory was yearly celebrated. His life we have gathered out of PETER DE NATALIBUS in his Catalogue of Saints, TRITHEMIUS in his history of the famous men of S. benedict's order, VSVARD, and others ●●ke worthy ●●ntion of S. DEICOLA; and the 〈◊〉 Martirologe this day. depiction of St. Wolstan S. WOLSTANUS EPISCOPUS WIGORNIENSIS in Anglia Monachus Benedictinus. Jan. 19 The life of S. WOLSTAN Bishop of Worcester, a Monk of the holy order of S, BENEDICT. JAN. 19 Written by Senatus Bravon. a Monk of Worcester THE beloved servant of God S. WOLSTAN was borne in Warwickshire, of worthy and religious parents, who offered him to S. BENEDICT in the monastery of Peterborough, where his youth was piously trained up, and instructed both in secular learning, and Ecclesiastical discipline, till he grew of years and sufficiency that he was made Priest: In which sacred function he so worthily behaved himself, that his godly manner of life was always His manner of life being a Priest in the world correspondent unto the height of his dignity. He ever celebrated his Mass with wonderful great gravity, and reverence, adding both before, and after that dreadful sacrifice, daily preparations and prayers, in which for the most part he spent the whole day; being contented for his poor maintenance, only with the voluntary offerings of devout people. The flower of his chastity, as a rich treasure, he kept undefiled all his life time. In a word, he led so virtuous a life, that living in the world, he might be compared with the best, and preferred before many Monks in the Cloister. So continent in his diet, that he was never known to drink one draught without necessity; and although for a time he did eat flesh, yet he left that custom too, upon this occasion. Being one day to go forth upon a special, and an unexcusable necessity, lest he should departed without his dinner, his servants had set a goose to the fire to be roasted against the end of Mass. In the mean time A straying motive to for●ake eating flesh. the holy man goes to the altar, and being in the midst of the sacrifice (because the Church was near adjoining unto his house) the strong savour of the roast-meat struck into his nose, and caused a sudden distraction in his mind, in so much that at first he seemed to have been overtaken with a little glimpse of pleasure therewith. But recollecting himself, with an acknowledgement of his fault, he vehemently endeavoured (but in vain) to repel that cogitation. Whereat being stricken with the zeal of an holy anger against himself, he made a vow before the holy Sacrament, which he held in his hands, never to taste any meat of that kind any more. Mass being ended, he departed about the affairs he had in charge, without taking one bit of meat, alleging that the urgency of his journey could suffer no longer delay. And hereuppon he abstained ever after from all manner of fleshy and unctuous meats whatsoever. Yet was he not so rigid as to condemn, or frown on such as did eat flesh, but willingly permitted them, affirming merrily, that as for his own part, he had no desire to that kind of meat, and if any flesh were pleasant to the taste, his opinion was, that larks were most pleasing and dainty in the eating. II. THE holy man's father whose name was Estan, and his mother Wlsgeve long before they died, agreed both to profess perpetual chastity, His parents profess religion. and to live separated under the holy habit of religion, which they as faithfully performed, as they died happily: whose pious example (lest the fruit should degenerate from the tree) WOLSTAN resolved to follow, being of himself much inclined that way, and much more incited thereunto by the good persuasions of his mother. He taketh the habit of S. Benedict. Therefore putting on a constant resolution, he forsook the world, and in the monastery of Worcester (where his father had lived before) he received the habit of S. benedict's order by the hands of Brichthege then Bishop of the same place. It was rare to behold how in his very entrance into the cloister, he began likewise to enter into a strict and religious course of life, exercising himself so bravely in watching, fasting, prayer, and all other virtues, that he suddenly appeared as a wonder amongst the rest of his brethren. Hereupppon the good rule, and government of his own life, caused him to be chosen for Master and Guardian of the younger Monks or novices; and afterwards by reason of his skill in singing, and knowledge of the Ecclesiastical office, he was made Cantour, and Treasurer of the Church riches; by which office having gotten occasion more freely to serve God, he gave himself totally to a contemplative life; remaining night and day in the Church, either at his prayers, or reading spiritual books; continually punishing his body with a fast of two or three days together; so given to holy watchings that not only a day and a night, but sometimes, (which (saith Roger Hovedon a grave Author) we could scarce beleene, had His won derfull watching we not heard it related by tradition from his own mouth) he spent four nights and four days without taking any sleep, in so much that the dryness of his brain had like to put him in danger of life, had he not speedily satisfied nature with some desired rest. And when weak nature forced him thereunto, he would not foster his wearied bones in a soft bed, but was wont to take a little sleep lying on a bench in the Church with his prayer-book under his head in steed of a pillow. III. BUT after some time Agelwin the Prior of the Monastery b'ing dead, WOLSTAN (by the election of the Monks, and the authority He is chosen Prior. of Alred the Bishop) was constituted, and ordained Prior in his place: which office most worthily he performed, not forgetting always to keep in practise the austerity of his former conversation; yea to give the greater example of life unto others, he increased it more and more. Three days in the week he abstained from tasting any meat at all, observing continual silence; the other three days his diet was roots, or herbs boiled, and barley bread. Whilst he shineth in this high degree of virtue and piety, the devil envying so great goodness assaulted him with a most horrible temptation. For praying one night in the Church before the high altar, that wicked enemy of mankind appearing in the form of a feruant at Court, with cruel importunity challenged him to wrestle, the holy man though already tired with patience, yet in his own defence he grappled with him, and that so stoutly, as three several times he laid him along to receive a rude salutation on the pavement: He wrestleth with the devil. yet in the last encounter he was so breathless with the extremity of labour, that panting and gasping for wind, he had almost fallen into a sound. But the divine clemency was present to his aid, and drove away that hellish monster to his place appointed; and WOLSTAN perceaving him so suddenly vanished, than first understood that it was the devil, whom before he took for a servingman; at whose only sight ever after he would wax pale, and tremble and quake all his body over, with the very fear, and thought of what had passed in this encounter. Which in him was much to be admired, who otherwise was a man of a mighty courage, so fare His great courage. void of any fear, as he was wont to say, he knew not what it meant. For he would ride over bridges that were broken, and dangerous, never alighting from his horse, and securely walk along the narrow ridges of high buildings without any fear: that we may worthily say of him; Justus ut Leo confidens: A just man is confident Prou. 28. v. 1. as a Lion. iv A LADY very rich, and beautiful was so fare besotted with a frantic, and unlawful love to the holy man, and so cruelly He is tempted by a lascivious woman. vexed therewith, as her impure desire forced her beyond the limits of shame, and brought her to such a degree of impudence, that she tore the veil of modesty and laid open her filthy desire unto him: praying and entreating him with sighs; and tears of love, to remit a while his wont rigour, and voutchafe to take a taste of the delight of her bedchamber: More she would have said, but the holy man (who thought she had already said to much) rose up in a zealous anger, and quickly cut off the thread of her unchaste discourse, He rejected her. and arming his forehead with the sign of the cross; Pack hence (said he) thou wicked firebrand of lust, daughter of death, and vessel of Satan; and thereat, with all his force he gave her such a smart blow on the face, (which though it heated her cheek yet it cooled her foul desires) that the sound thereof was heard all over the house. And by this means like an other undefiled joseph, refusing to consent to her vile and wanton allurements, he bridled the unchaste desires of her heart, with the smart of an outward punishment. V HE WAS wont every Sunday with great care and devotion He preacheth every Sunday. publicly to preach the word of God unto the people, at which one of the monks being without just cause disconteted, reproved him, saying, that it was the office of the Bishop only to preach, and teach, and that it better became a Monk as he, was to keep silence within his cloister, and not to gad abroad, and put his sickle into other men's harvest. The holy man answered: The word of God is not bound, 2. Tim. 2. and nothing is more grateful then to preach CHRIST'S Gospel, and reduce his people out of error into the true way: therefore he would not desist from so good a work. But the night following that Monk received the just punishment of his boldness being in a vision called to account before the dreadful tribunal of On● punished by God for hindering Wolstans' preaching an unknown judge, who sharply rebuked him for his temereity in checking his beloved servant, and commanded him to be laid along out he ground, where he was so scourged with sharp whips, as the tears which trickled down his cheeks, and the black and blue marks of the stripes, which appeared on his shoulders when he awaked, were evident and feeling witnesses of what had past. When this was made known unto holy WOLSTAN, pitying his calamity, he pardoned him the offence, and with his benediction, likewise gave him so perfect a cure of his grief, that there remained no sign thereof to be seen. VI S. WOLSTAN standing aloof off, happened once to see one fall headlong from the top of the steeple; at which woeful sight being suddenly strucken with grief, he made the sign of the cross towards him as he fell, who coming to the ground armed with that si●●● of life, was nothing at all bruised or hurt with the marks of death: The wonderful virtue of the sign of the cross. but getting up safe without any help, he imputed the cause of his fall to his own temereity, and the miraculous preservation of his life to S. WOLSTANS' sainctetie. VII. AFTER some years Alred of Worcester being chosen Archbishop of York, the general consent both of the Monks, and common He is chosen Bish. people inclined totally to the election of WOLSTAN; holy King EDWARD allowing them to choose a Bishop, whom they pleased: Their election was confirmed by the Pope's Legates who then lived at Worcester, expecting a dispatch of some affairs from the Kings Court. But WOLSTAN as obstinately resisted these honours, as He refuseth to accept it. many now a days do ambitiously labour to get them; prochiming himself most unworthy, and protesting by oath that he would rather lay down his neck to be divided by the sharp edge of the sword, then undertake the burden of so high a dignity. Being often times persuaded hereunto by many virtuous & religious men, he would never consent, till at length well checked and sharply rebuked for his obstinacy, and disobedience by the holy man of God Vlsius, (an Anachorite who had then lived a solitary life above forty years,) and terrified with a heavenly oracle, his constancy was broken, and he to his great grief compelled to yield and consent to their desires. Therefore on the feast of our B. Lady's Nativity, by the hands of Alr●d Archbishop of York, (Stig and the usurper of Cauturbury then being suspended from his function,) he was ordained, Overcome with persuasion he is ordained bishop. Joan. 1. v. 47. and consecrated Bishop of Worcester, in presence of holy King EDWARD the Confessor, in the twentith year of his reign, In this consecration S. WOLSTAN opening the Bible (as the manner was) happened on this sentence worthily devining of him, Behold a true Jsraelite in whom there is no● deceit. For he was an open plain man, void of all acquaint devices of dissimulation. Yet was he not so merely simple, as easily to suffer himself to be cozened, by the greatest and wisest masters of deceit: the almighty wisdom many times giving evident testimony, approving the virtuous innocence of his simplicity. For when Thomas Archbishop of York would have reduced the Sea of Worcester under his jurisdiction, and did wrongfully alienate and detain some of the lands, and means the 〈◊〉 belonging, a very sharp controversy was had there upon in presence of the King, the Bishops, and other Peers of the Realm, to decide this case, whereon depended a great part of the Bishop of Worcester's estate. In the mean time S. WOLSTAN going out o● the Council, maturely to deliberate with his Monks concerning this weighty matter, that ●oe nearly touched their freehould; when all their minds were most eagerly attentive to the diligent examination See his wonderful contempt of the world in respect of the divine service. of their cause. Believe my Brethren (said WOLSTAN) we have not yet song None; therefore let us go ●ing it. The Monk● offended herewith: First (replied they) let us dispatch the business we came for, and study our answer to the Council, we shall have time enough to ●ing afterwards: Believe me (answered he) we will first do our duties to God, and then debate the contentious reasons of those humane affairs. Therefore having without any delay dispatched the ninth hour, he commanded his Monks, that were very solicitous of the event of their cause, to depose all care, constantly affirming that he saw the ●B. Bishops and Saints, DUNSTAN, and OSWALD, who would defend both them, and their cause against all thei● adversaries. Neither was he any thing deceived for entering into the Council with great alacrity, and boldness, he got the sentence of them all in his own behalf, against Thomas Archbishop of York, who then willingly yielded, and very earnestly desired WOLSTAN to make a visit in his diocese, and instruct the people with the piety of his sermons: Which although they did not ●low from him with that abundance of humane science, and flaunting eloquence The virtue of his preaching as other men made show off, yet his speeches took such deep root and impression in the breasts of his audience, and touched them so to the quick, that he would move to repentance and amendment of life more than any others Preachers that were. For his singular innocence of life, joined to the many miracles which it pleased God through his merits to show unto the world, did pierce, and sting the hardest hearts, and draw even his adversaries (though unwilling) to love, and honour him. But among all his miracles this ensuing is worthy eternally to be recorded in the Church of God. VIII. IN A Council held at Westminster, were besides the King with the Bishops, and Peers of England, were present a Bishop and two Cardinals the Pope's Lega●s from Rome, after they had deposed. Stigand a secular Priest out of the sea of C 〈…〉 which by i 〈…〉 sion he had usurped; the King Willia● Conqueror pretending insufficiency The council dispute of his deposition. of learning, and want of the French tongue in S. WOLSTAN by all means endeavoured to deprive him of his office and dignity, (meaning belike to put some Norman in his place) and L●●fr●●ck Archbishop of C 〈…〉 unadvisedly following the King's opinion, commanded the holy man without further delay to resign up his staff, and ●i●g the chief arms and ●●signes of his Episcopal dignity. WOLSTAN without any sh●w of alteration either in mind, o● in countenance, stood up, and holding his c●o 〈…〉 staff in his hand: In very d●ed, my Lord Archbishop (said he) I know, that I am ●●yther worthy of this honour, nor fi●t for s●e great a His speech to the council. burden, nor able rightly to undergo the labour, this I know, and this did I know before, when the Monks elected 〈◊〉, when the Bishops compelled me, and when holy King EDWARD my s 〈◊〉 〈…〉ed me to this 〈◊〉. He, by the au 〈…〉 of the Sea Apostolic laid this burden on my 〈…〉 ke shoulders, and by this staff commanded me to be 〈…〉 stead with Episcopal dignity: now you exact me to give up the p●st●r all 〈◊〉, which you bestowed 〈◊〉 you take away the office which you 〈◊〉 me 〈…〉. And 〈…〉 lie, I am so fare from being ignorant of mi 〈…〉 w●● insufficiency, that submitting myself to the sentence of this holy con 〈…〉 rye, I will indeed resign up my staff of offices but to whom? to you? ●●e, but rather to him, by whose authority 〈◊〉 first received it. Having said these words, he went directly to S. EDWARD'S s●rine, and there speaking to the holy Saint: Thou know oft, my 〈…〉 aigne Lord (said he) His speech before S. Edward's shrine. how unwillingly I undertook this char●ge, how of●ē I avoiyded i●, how often I hid, and absented myself, when I was sought for, to 〈◊〉 it. I confess I played not the part of a wise man, in taking it; but thou di 〈…〉 force me to it. For although 〈◊〉- neither the election of my brethren, ●on the desire of the people, the consent of the Bishop●, no● the fauo●● of the Nobles; yet t●y sole authority over me, weighed down all these, thy will urged me more than all the rest. But now, new Lord●, new laws, our new Archbishop and our new King make new 〈…〉 rees, and promulgate new op 〈…〉. They seem to condemn thee of error, who di●●●● co 〈…〉 d, and me of presumption, who consented. And then 〈◊〉 as a mortal man thou mightest well be deceived, but canst thou now being united by the living God? Therefore I will not resign to them, that exact what they gave not; who as being humane creatures may deceive, and be d 〈…〉ed, but to thee who didst first give it, and who now translated into the very truth itself, hast escaped th● dark night of error, and ignorance, to thee, I say, I willingly resign my staff of office, to thy cure I commit the charge of those thou hast commended unto me; and to thee I may securely leave them, thy merits being so well known unto me. IX. HAVING spoken these words, a little lifting up his hand full of a confidence more than humane, he struck his crosier staff into the stone which covered the holy King's body, saying: Take He yields up his office. it, my sovereign Lord, and give it to whom thee pleaseth. And putting of his Episcopal robes, returned again to his cowl●●●d hood, and became a simple Monk among the Monks. All men wondered to see the staff so steadfastly fastened in the stone, as if there it had taken root. But when some, attempting to take it away, had failed of their intent, the matter was related to the Council, whence 〈…〉 frank A notable miracle. presently sent Gundulf Bishop of Rochester to the tomb to fetch it▪ who was not able to stir 〈◊〉 with all his force; Lanfrank astonished with the strangeness of the miracle, hastened to the tomb himself, together with the King, and the other Bishops, and having first made his prayer to almighty God, he tried with all the force he had to take away the staff, but in vain. Hereat the King being stricke● with admiration, cried out that this was all the handy work of God himself: The Archbishop in like manner now dissolving into tear●●, ingenuously confessed his error unto the holy man, saying: Verily our Lord is just, and he walketh with the simple, and his communication is with those that are humble. Dear brother, ●e ha●● derided thy holy simplicity: but God hath brought forth thy justice as the day light. Our rash judgement hath erred against thee, and hath made known to the world thy simplicity so grateful unto God. By the authority therefore of the office we exercise, or rather by the judgement of God himself, which hath convinced He is rest o red to his bishopric. us, we again restore thee to the dignity, and impose the charge upon thee, which unadvisedly we endeavoured to take away. But WOLSTAN alleging his own unabl 〈…〉, and pretending the burden to be beyond his forces, did contend, that in so sacred a place ought to be placed a holy prelate. Notwithstanding overcome with their instant entreaties, in sight of them all he came unto the sepulchre, and taking the crosier staff in his ●and, drew it forth with as great facility, as if it had stuck but in 〈◊〉 piece of soft clay or 〈◊〉. Then the King and L●●frank both fell pnostrate at his feet, desiring pardon of their error, and ear 〈…〉 tly recommending themselves to his holy prayers, finding hereby to be most true, that God hath made foolish the wisdom of this world; and the foolish things thereof he hath chosen, that he may 〈◊〉 the wife. The holyman that would 1. Cor. 1. not be behind them in 〈…〉 litie, and courtesy; seeing them prostrate before him, with all submission of mind prostrated likewise at their feet whence he would not rise without the Archbishop's benediction; which done, he returned to his charge. X. A WOMAN possessed with a wild devil, that caused her ●auingly to wander up and down the fields, and desert, war by the He cureth possessed persons. benediction of S. WOLSTAN restored to herself again, and delivered from the power of that wicked spirit: the Saint commanding her to give praise & thankes unto almighty God, & not to WOLSTAN: to love virtue, and live chastely, left some worse mischief should befall unto her. She following his holy admonitions, entered into a Nunnery, and led a life therein both grateful, and acceptable unto almighty God. ●n other possessed person that was bound to a post with iron chains, speaking and roaring out a confusion of so mavoyces, that those that heard thought he had had an army of men in his belly, which spoke through his mouth. The holy Bishop coming towards him, he began to tremble and quake in all the parts of his body, to gnash and grind his teeth, to fo●me at the mouth, and horridly to bellow out against him; The Bishop much pitying his woeful case, lifted up his hands to heaven, and devoutly made his prayers unto almighty God for his delivery: and the end of his prayer brought a beginning of perfect health and liberty to the tormented person. XI. A LEPER ugly, and horrid to behold, spotted all over his He healeth a leper. body with the unseemly marks of his disease, washed himself in a bath wherein was put the water that had washed S. WOLSTANS' hands, and presently the swelling of his blistery 〈◊〉 ●●asswaged, the contagious matter ran out, and all his body became as pure and clear as a young child's. 〈◊〉 a nun, daughter to King Harold, was troubled with such a dangerous swelling in her eyes, that her ●ylidds being grown to thick lumps of flesh, had quite covered her sight, and ●illed the pits of her eyes with a mass of superfluous substance. But having received S. Wol●tan benediction, she opened her ●ylidds again, and obtained her desired ●ight. XII. One Elsine, that sometimes had been a servant unto holy King Enwa●d, entreated the good Bishop to consecrated a new Church. In the Churchyard grew a great 〈◊〉 tree, which spreading The virtue of S. wolstans malediction. her branches to 〈◊〉 extra●● dina●●● breadth, cast a very large, and pleasant shadow on the ground; but withal much darkened the Church windows. Under this tree El●●● was wont to play at dree, and banquet with his friends, and therefore would by no means (according to the Bishop's 〈◊〉 ●●d permit it to be cu●t down, but said; that he had rather the Church should remain unconsecrated, than no give way v●●● such (as he thought) a pitiful act. Therefore holy Wolstan c●●● the 〈◊〉 of his ●alediction against that tree, which as i● were, wounded therewith, waxed barren by little, and little, and in a short time, withered and dried up to the very 〈◊〉: Whereat the Owner i● a rage, commanded it to be cut dow●e protesting that nothing was more ●itter than Worstans' malediction, and nothing more sweet than his blessing. XIII. A 〈…〉 s ●able was 〈◊〉 observed a continual lecture of such Reading at his table. books, as might edify the hearers, during which cu●rie man kept great silence. And after meat, that he might impart spiritual food unto their souls, whose bodies he had ●edd with nourish met, he would expound the lesson that had been read, in his mother tongue. But after dinner, when according to the custom they brought wine to the table, he would only take pure water, none knowing there of but his servant. In his younger years he drank pure water only, in his old age he began to mingle it with a 〈…〉 e wine, or beer. He severely observed order and discipline in his house, as well with his secular as Ecclehasticall persons; his law was that all The discipline of his house. should be present both at Mass and all other hours of the office. He appointed guardians of purpose, to watch that no man should laugh unpunished: otherwise he either wanted his drink that day or received a sharp blow on the hand with a pa●●mer, or ferula. Whensoever on business he sent any of his servants abroad, he strictly enjoined them to say their prayers seven times a day; affirming that as the Monks their seven flowers, so the lay men ought to offer seven prayers a day unto God. Whosoever swore an oath in his presence, strait without any intermission felt the revenge of the pa●●mer. He would be much moved if any man before him did back bite, and detract other men's lives, or carp at their manners; for this he judged to be a part of extreme malice. XIV. He was wont every night after a short sleep, to rise out of his bed, and recite his psalter, sometimes alone, fearing to hinder His nightly prayers others rest; sometimes with one of his Monks, whom he perceived to be more vigilant than the rest. One night he sharply rebuked the drowsiness of the brother that recited with him, who nevertheless did not seek to drive away his heaviness, but sat gaping, and yawning at his prayers, with the sign of an unwilling mind: Afterwards when that Monk betook himself to his rest in bed, he was in a vision shaken out of his sleep, and being well lashed with stripes by an unknown hand, he was justly punished for his lazines: till in the end he faithfully promised never more to hinder the holy man in his pious devotions. The holy Bishop was wont to hear at least two Masses everle day, and to sing the third himself. Being to take His daily exercise of devotion. any journey, he was no sooner on horseback, but he began to say his psalter, and never paused till he came to the end. His Chamberlain had store of alms always in a readiness, whereof he was never to deny the needy that asked it. Wheresoever he lay, stood, or walked, some devout psalm or hymn was always in his mouth, and the figure of CHRIST in his heart. In every one of his villages he had a little closet, where he kept close always after Mass, till his Clerk called him either to dinner, or hours. When he remained at home in Worcester, he would always sing high Mass in his week, and many other times he would supply the place of the Hebdomadarie, or weekly Priest therein; which office he said, that he more esteemed He would sing mass in his turn. than his Bishopric, and he would choose rather to be deprived of this, then exempted from the other. He was always present at the Monks collation, whence he would go with them to the Church; and the benediction at the end of Compline (as the manner is) being given, he retires himself to his lodging. XV. WHEN his Monks removed to a larger and fairer Church which he himself had erected, looking on the destruction of the old one built by S. OSWALD, he could not contain himself from w●●ping: whereupon being modestly reproved, that he ought rather to rejoice, since in his time so great an honour, and increase happened to his Church, and that by the abundant number of Monks, the buildings were likewise enlarged: I consider it fare otherwise His wonderful humility. (said he) to wirt, that we wretched sinners do destroy the works of our holy predecessors, thereby to purchase all the praise, and glory unto ourselves. That innocent age was not acquainted with glorious and stately edifices, but in those day's men were contented to sacrifice themselves▪ unto almighty God, and by their example draw their subjects to the like, under the defence of any poor homely roof: When we, neglecting the care of men's souls, do strive only to eternise our names in raising up high towers, and stable buildings to heaven. Thus out of the glory of his own heroic deeds, would he gather the rich baseness of humility. XVI. HE HAD an admirable grace in composing of discord, 〈◊〉 bringing dissentious people within the laws of love, and friendship: to which purpose making▪ sermon on a time, he touched many so to the quick, that they, who were bitter enemies before, returned to a mutual league of friendship. But amongst the rest there was one who feared not to brag openly, that he would never depose the enmity, and hatred he had conceived against his enemy: to whom the Bishop (failing by any persuasions, or fair means to bring him to an atonement) said: Blessed (saith CHRIST) are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the children of God. Is it not manifest Matt. 5. then, that all peace-breakers, and such as by no reason will be reduced to make peace, may be called, yea and are the sons of the de●●ill? To him therefore whose son thou art, for thy contumacic, 1. Cor. 5. I commit thee, and deliver thy body to Satan, that thy soul may be A terrible. punishment of one that would not forgive his enemies. saved in the day of judgement. He had scarce ended these words, when the miserable wretch by the gnashing, and grinding of his teeth, the ghastly staring of his eyes, his foaming at the mouth, and antic turning, and rolling of his body into strange postures, gave evident testimony by what diabolical spirit he was governed. At length being freed again by S. WOLSTAN: he was the second, and third time possessed in like manner, until from the bottom of his heart; he promised to forgive his enemies. XVII. THE virtuous life of this holy man was ennobled with many other miracles, and wanted not the gift of prophecy. By S. Wolstan● gift of prophecy. which he dissuaded one Ailwine, (who a long time had lived a solitary life at Mal●erne hills) from his desire of going to Jerusalem, foretelling him, that God almighty would work wonderful things by his means. Ailwine yielding unto his persuasions, founded afterwards a famous monastery of S. benedict's order at Mal●erne, where he gathered together the number of three hundred Benedictine Monks. XVIII. ONE Sewulf, (whom he had often exhorted to embrace a monastical life, to do worthy penance for his sins,) excusing himself, and alleging that the rigour of it did exceed his weakness of body: the Bishop said; Well, go this way, thou shalt be a Monk whether thou wilt, or no. At length waxing old, he took the habit of S. benedict's order at Malmesburie, where the very remembrance of S. Wolstans' words, ever after thundered a milder, and humbler behaviour into him. XIX. As on a time he stroaked the head of a little boy called Nicholas, whom he brought up from a child, and now even in his A Wonder youth, began to lose his hair; I think my son (said he) thou wilt shortly be bald: and why Father (replied the boy) do not you keep my hair on my head? Believe me son (answered the holy Bishop) as long as I live, so much as remains, shall not fall away: And so it came to pass. But within the very week that the holy man died, all that young man's hair went so clean away, that there remained nothing but the bare scull. XX. News being brought him that his sister was dead; Now then (answered he) the plough is come into my land; and very He forseeth his own death. shortly the brother will follow his sister. Neither was he a false Prophet, for within a short time after, being taken with an extreme seaver, his old age soon perceived, that death was at hand. Then nothing was to be seen among his monks, and other friend● about him, but tears, sighs, and lamentations, woefully bewailing the loss of so pious a Father. When he on the other side with a devout exhortation proceeding from a joyful countenance striven to appease their griefs, saying, that his death would be no loss of life, but a change for a better; promising not so to forsake them, but that with his prayers to almighty God, he would for ever assist them: His great confidence in almighty God. and that being free out of his prison of clay, by how much nearer he was joined unto God, by so much readier he would be to comfort, and defend them. Thrice happy tongue, that out of the store-house of a secure conscience, durst power out words of so great confidence. Some with sighs, and sobs desire to have him prayed for, and he largely promiseth to pray for them all. O strange wonder! See how his holy simplicity was ignorant of having any diffidence in the mercy of almighty God. Therefore in the year of our Lord 1095. this glorious confessor of CHRIST, this bright star of the Benedictine order in England, having with a wonderful rare example of holy life, gowerned the Sea of Worcester, the space of thirty four years, delivered up his virtuous soul into the hands His death of his creator, to receive the rewards of his worthy labours, the ninteenth day of January, in the eighty seaventh year of his age. His body was brought into the Church, and detained there three days unburied. The very form and complexion thereof, seeming rather to set forth the graceful beauty of a living Bishop, than the horror of a dead corpse. The Episcopal ring, which he had received at his consecration, many years before his death would not hang on his finger: for his flesh was so consumed by his extreme penance and austerity of life, that his body was nothing but skin, and bone. But although his ring often times fell from his finger thus A notable miracle. consumed, yet was it never lost: and he did often say, that he would carry with him to his grave that ring, which without ambition he had received. Being dead, diverse essayed to take off his ring, but in vain, for that which before fell off many times of itself, by no violent means could now be drawn off. The fourth day he was buried with great reverence, by Robert Bishop of Hereford, who long before had entered into a strict and holy league of friendship together with S. WOLSTAN. XXI. SOME years after his death, a merciless fire taking hold of the top of the Church, burnt, and consumed it in miserable sort, An other as strange. the lead came pouring down, like rain, the great beams, their supporters being consumed, as whole trees tumbled to the ground; so that in such a confused wrack of ruin, it seemed nothing that was within the compass of the Church could escape the rage of the fire. Yet the sepulchre of the blessed Saint remained free from these outrageous flames, and was not as much as touched, or smutched with any of the coals, ashes, or any thing else that fell from above. And to give greater evidence to the miracle, the very strawmatte on which those did kneel, that prayed before his tomb, was found whole and untouched. XXII ABOUT a hundred years after his death, his holy body was taken up, and enclosed in a very precious shrine, being found in all His body uncorrupted after an hundred years. his Pontifical robes, as entire and uncorrupted as when he was laid in the ground. The feast of his translation is celebrated the seaventh of june. Many other miracles were wrought by the supreme worker of miracles, through the intercession and merits of this blessed Saint, which I willingly omit; my purpose being not to write Saint's lives, that the world may only wonder at their miraculous deeds, but chief to draw men to imitate their virtuous lives: Yet in this history we have had great store both of virtues and miracles. God of his infinite goodness, give us grace to admire, and praise his divine power in the one, and to follow the virtuous examples of his blessed Saint in the other. Amen. His life we have taken chief out of the author of it SENATUS BRAVON. a Monk of Worcester. Besides whom, WILLIAM MALMESBURY de Pontif. Ang. lib. 4. and de gest. Reg. Ang. lib. 3. ROGER HOVEDON part. 1. Anal. an. 1062. and 1095. BARONIUS tom. 11. an. 1062. 1070. 1072. 1074. MATHEW WESTMINSTER arm 1074. NICHOLAS HARPSFIELD saec. 11. cap. 24. and many others do largely speak his virtues and praises. In the SARUM breviary he hath an office of nine lessons; and in an anncient manuseript Breviary of S. benedict's order, which belonged to the monastery of Burton upon Trent he hath an office of three lessons on this day. The life of S. ERMENBURG Queen and Abbess of S. benedict's order. JAN. 21. Out of Matthew Westmin. & others SAINT ERMENBURG daughter to Ermenred, brother of Ercombert King of Kent, was married unto Merwald King of the Mercians, with whom she had the happiness to be the mother of the three holy Virgins, Milburg, Mildred, and Mildgith, whom she brought up so piously, as afterwards they all embraced a monastical life, and became Nuns, and Saints of S. benedict's order: their mother also Queen Ermonburg, although her husband was yet living, yet she was so taken with the desire of a solitary and monastical life, that she never rested until she had obtained the consent of her husband to the furtherance of her virtuous desire. Which being gotten, she went into Kent, to her cousin Egbert, that reigned there, and made him acquainted with her holy purpose, earnestly entreating him to put his helping hand to the performance of her good intentions. Egbert being much moved at so great devotion, gave her a piece of land at the town of Estrey in Kent, according to her own election, and built her a monastery upon it dedicated to the two holy Martyrs Ethelbert, and Ethelred her brothers: Where S. Of Ethelbert and Ethelred see the seaventeenth of October. ERMENBURG, having gathered together the number of seventy other Nuns under the holy order of S. BENEDICT, spent the remnant of her life in the continual exercise of religion, and virtue, governing the monastery as Abbess with all true observance of regular discipline, until by almighty God she was called out of this world, to receive the everlasting reward of her merits in a better. What day she died it is uncertain, but this one and twentith of January is made a commemoration of her. Of this blessed Saint do make mention MATHEW WESTMINSTER ann. 654. & 676. WILLIAM MALMESBURY de gest. Reg. Angl. lib. 1. c. 1. & de gest. Pontif. Ang. l. 4. and NICHOLAS HARPSFIELD hist Eccl. saec. 7. cap. 10. whom we have followed. The life of S. THEORITHGID virgin andnunne of S. benedict's order. JAN. 22. Out of venerable Bede. hist. de gest. Ang. lib. 4. c. 9 THEORITHGID was scholar unto the holy Abbess S. EDILBURG, 1. Cor. 12. in the Benedictine monastery of Berking in Essex; where she lived for many years ever exercised in the diligent service of almighth tie god, with all humility, and sincerity, and helping S. EDILBURG the Abbess to keep the true observance of regular discipline, she was the mistress to correct and instruct the younger sort or novices. But, that her virtue, might (as the Apostle saith) be made perfect in infirmity, she was suddenly taken with a most grievous sickness, and through the merciful providence of our redeemer, she was afflicted there with for the space of nine years, that whatsoever spot of filthy sin, by ignorance, or negligence had crept in and got place amongst her other virtues might be quite parched, and burnt up in the painful furnace of a long tribulation. II. THIS HOLY virgin going out of her bed one night, towards the She enjoyeth a strange vision. dawning of the day, saw manifestly as it were the body of one brighter than the sun itself, carried up on high in a white sheet from wards the dorter where the sisters took they rest, till at length it was drawn out of her sight into the open heavens; by this vision she supposed to be signified, that some one of her sisters was shortly to be called out of the world: as indeed it fell out, for within a few days S. EDILBURG the Abbess changed this life for a better. III Now when THEORITHGID the blessed handmaid of CHRIST had lived three years more after the death of the Abbess, she was so fare spent with the forenamed sickness, that her skin, and bones did scarce hang together; and at the last the time of her departure drawing near, she lost not only the use of all her other limbs but was not able to move (that member which is most voluble) her tongue. In which case having endured wonderful pains for the space of three days, and three nights, being then recreated with a celestial vision, she opened her eyes, and cheerfully looking towards heaven, began to speak in this manner unto the vision she beheld: Thy coming is very grateful unto me, and thou art heartily S. Edilburg appeareth unto her & reucaleth the hour of her death. welcome. This said, she was silent as it were expecting the answer of the party she spoke unto. And again as she were a little moved; I cannot (said she) gladly endure this. Presently after a short silence, she spoke the third time; If it cannot be to day I beseech thee that it be not long delayed. Then being silent a while she concluded thus: If it be fully so ordained, and that this sentence cannot be changed, I beseech thee that there be this only night between. Being demanded with whom she held this discourse: She answered, with my most dear mother EDILBURG. Whereby they understood that her coming was to bring news that the time of THEORITHGIDS' departure was at hand. For according to her desire after that day and the nex night, being delivered out of the prison/ of her weak body, she took her flight to the celestial paradise to receive the eternal reward of her sufferings. She died about the year of our Lord six hundred seventy eight. Thus much we have taken out of VENERABLE BEDE de gest. lib. 4. cap. 9 and NICOLAS HARPSFIELD. saec. 7. cap. 14. Of her do make mention MOLANUS in append. ad VSVARDUM and ARNOLD WION in append ad suum Martirolog. The life of S. Cadox, Bishop, and Martyr. JAN. 25. Out of joannes Anglicus. S. CADOCK was bone in Wales os noble parents, his father was called Gundley, his mother Gladusa; being baptised by an Anachorite of that country, under the same man's care he was brought up and instructed in the rudiments of Christian religion: in which he profitted wonderfully. Being yet but a youth, he bore the mind of an aged man, refusing to follow such youthful sport, as his equals invited him unto, truly considering that in the later day laughter shall be changed into weeping, and weeping into joy. At length departing from his master, and his native soil, he built a monastery He buildeth a monastery. in Glamorganshire about three miles distant from Cowbridge, into which having gathered a good number of monks, he instituted them in the rules of a monastical life. The monastery was called Llancarnanan, that is, the service of Hearts, because it is reported that in that work he had wild Hearts familiar and obedient unto him: There in very great abstinence, he led a solitary life, night and day applying himself unto the contemplation of heaven, and heavenly things. But the same of his learning, and sanctity, was a cause that many famous men flocked unto him, and put themselves into the rank of his scholars, and by the instructions of so good, a master, made a wonderful progress both in learning, and virtue. Amongst these was Gildas surnamed the Wise, and Ellenius, that afterwards succeeded him in the government of the monastery; and many others. two IN HIS time a certain Captain or Duke of the Britan's having slain A Duke flieth to him for Succour. three of noble king Arthur's soldiers, was compelled, being cruelly persecuted by the king, to fly, for refuge to S. CADOCK, who comiserating his case, very courteously entertained him, till (the king being somewhat pacified at the holy man's entreaties) it was determined by the judges of the Country that to redeem the men slain, he should give for each one, three of his best kine, according to the ancient law of the Britain's. But King Arthur refusing to take such kine a were of one colour, with much wrangling demanded such as had their fore parts red, and hinder parts diversely spotted with white & black: whereuppo the nine beasts were by the paayers of S. CADOCK changed into the forenamed colours; and presently again in the kings own sight turned into so many bundells or faggotts of fern Whereat much astonished he humbly demanded pardon for his unjust demand. Many other wonderful miracles are reported to have been done by the prayers of this holy man, which because they seem to be not very authentically reported are wittingly ommitted. Only this we have that being afterwards made Bishop, he desired of almighty God to pass out of this life throng martirdom, which was granted him. For as he celebrated the mystery of the dreadful sacrifice of He is martyred. daying ma●le at the Altar. the mass, a tyrannous ring leader of an army of other wicked spirits wasting, and spoiling the town were he lived, a knight of this bloody company ruled by a madding fury ran into the Church and with his lanuce pierced the fides of the holy man at the altars who with his hands lifted up to heaven recommended his soul unto almighty God, and earnestly craving pardon for his murderers, departed out of this world to receive a place amongst the holy Martyrs in heaven, the twenty fourth day of January, about the year of our Lord five hundred seventy; In the reign of Malgocune over the tottering state of Brittany. The memory of this saint is conserved to these our days in many Churches in Wales; and one in , dedicated to his name, and honour. By an other name he 'twas called Sophia's, which gave occasion of error to the Author of he English Martirologe, when he makes Cadock and Sophia's to be diverse Saints. His life we have gathered out of JOANNES ANGLICUS recited by JOHN CAPGRAVE, Nicolas Harpsfield, saec. 6. cap. 27. and others The life of S. BATHILDE Queen and Nun of the holy order of S. BENEDICT. JAN. 26. Written by an author of the same time The Authors Prologue. BY how much the virtuous life of widddowes is more famous in merits, by so much it is worthier of praise in the mouth of the world: for they no sooner show an example of pious conversation unto others, but they stir up the tongues of all to celebrate their praises. Calling therefore to mind the excellent virtues, and merits of the glorious, and religious widow, & worthiest Queen S. BATHILDE, once wife to the famous king of France Clodovens, let us give praise, and glory unto JESUS CHRIST our Redeemer, who is always known to be wonderful in his saints: and to lay open the way of justice unto us, not only by men; but by the frailty of women allsoe he showeth both to us, and to all those that love him, rare examples of religion, and virtue. For indeed our God hath a special care of all, and will have none of those to perish that he hath redeemed by the shedding of his own precious blood. Holy men he exhorteth to remain in their sanctity, and admonisheth sinners to forsake their sins, and follow good works, that they may walk the high way to heaven. Which being understood, and well understood by this venerable Lady, she studied with great care to fulfil it: for she was both religious, and very devout towards God, and taking upon her the care of the Churches, and the poor, with a wonderful courage of mind she stoutly governed the Palace, and uncontrolled, she ruled the Kingdom of France; in so much that her own deserts exacting it, she was reverenced of all the Bishops, Peers, and People through out her Kingdom, with more than ordinary love and affection. The renown of whose life because she was borne in England, I have here set forth amongst our English Saints. I. S. BATHILDE descended by birth from the noble blood of the Saxons in England, but being taken away in her youth (not without the particular providence of almighty God) and as a prey, carried into France, she was sold at a rate fare to base for so incomparable a parcel of merchandise. There this precious and admirable jewel of God was first entertained by a famous Prince of the French by name Erchinoaldus, then chief ruler of the King's Palace: in whose service, being but young, she behaved herself so decently, that her She serveth the Prince Erchinoald. virtuous conversation, and admirable condition, was very pleasing both to the Prince, and all his family. For she was of a generous mind, most chaste in her behaviour, sober, prudent, and friendly, plotting harm to none. In her speech neither light, nor presumptuous, but guiding all her actions with the sincerity of a noble wit. The form of her body was correspondent to the nobility of her birth, verle grateful, and beautiful to all beholders; of a countenance merry, and constant, and in her gate grave. In a word, she behaved herself in all things so well becoming herself, that she pleased the Prince Erchinoald infinitely, and got great favour in his sight; in so much that he appointed her to wait at his elbow, where often times she played the part of an honest cuppbearer, carefully filling wine unto him. She grew not proud with this favour, but rather being well grounded in humility, became more obedient, and loving to all her companions; serving her elders with such reverence, as she disdained not with her own hands to untie & pull of their shoes at night, and make them clean, to provide them water to wash, and the like; all which works of humility she did exercise with a prompt and willing mind. By this her behaviour so humbly noble, and nobly humble amongst her fellows, she got a wonderful praise, and love of all, and her good fame deserved so happily that Erchinoald the Prince desired she should succeed in place of his bedfellow; who was dead, and become his second wife, which this holy maid understanding (inspired by God's grace) with great care, and secrecy she withdrew herself from his sight. And being called to She flieth the marriage of Erchinoald. the Prince's chamber, she hide herself in a corner of the house under some ragged so subtly, that no man suspected her being in that room: and then like a wise, and crafty maid, flying all vain honours, and humbly embracing an humble chasterie, she endeavoured to her power, to avoid the company of a man, that she might deserve to enjoy the society of her spiritual, and heavenly spouse. But having escaped the Prince's embracements, and he in the mean time being married unto an other, by the disposition of She marrieth the king Clodoveus. the almighty providence it came to pass, that she who had avoided the marriage of this Prince, should afterwards be joined in wedlock unto the great Monarch of France, Clodoneus, and be raised by the deserts of her humility to a higher degree of dignity; by refusing the King's servant, she was married unto the King himself, and became the mother of the royal progeny: which without all doubt was thus brought to pass, that she, who descended from the race of Kings, should, by marrying a King, bring forth an issue of Kings. But in all these honours ever ruling herself by the raines of wisdom, Her wonderful works of mercy. with a watchful care she obeyed the King as her Lord, carrying herself to the Princes as a mother, to Priests as a daughter, & to younglings as a pious nurse: she was loving unto all, honouring Priests as her fathers, favouring Monks as her brethren, cherishing the poor as her domestics, and (remembering her own estate of pilgrimage) she entertained pilgrims as her own children. She was a perpetual refuge unto widows, orphans, and fatherless children, and gave secure unto all that were weak, and in want. She would always exhort young men to piety, and religion; and often put the King in mind to have a care of the Churches, and poor. Alsoe being desirous in this her secular habit to serve under the banner of CHRIST JESUS, she often frequented her prayers, daily recommending herself with tears of devotion unto her heavenly King. Of whom her earthly King Clodoneus being likewise very careful, that she might the better bring to pass what she had in mind conceived, according to her own faith, and devotion; counselled her to have some conference Her charity to religious houses. with the venerable Abbot Genesius to aid and assist her in her pious intentions. Through whose hands she exercised her piety to Priests, gave maintenance to the poor, clothed the naked, and carefully buried the dead. By him she sent no small store of gold, silver, and other rich gifts unto the monasteries both of men, and women. All which was by this pious servant of God with great care performed. II. IN THE mean time King Clodonens died, and left the care of his children to their mother, by whose means, and the authority of the Peers of the Realm, Lotharins' the eldest son was settled in the government of the Kingdom of France. also through the labours of this blessed Queen her son Childerick was made King of A●strasia, and the Burgundians entered into a league with the French. She buildeth the monastery of Chelles III. HAVING thus ordered the public affairs of the Kingdom, it is incredible what great commodities, and gifts she largely bestowed on religious houses, in lands, woods, and other hereditaments, either to build their monasteries on, or to maintain those that were built with sufficiency. Yet this her great liberality did not seem to satisfy the piety of her desire, unless at her own only charge she did build a monastery, which And richly endoweth the same. amongst the other particular houses of God, should look towards heaven. Wherefore now as it were spurning the sea of the world, she erected a Monastery for Nuns of S. benedict's Order at a place near unto Paris commonly called Chelles, on the banks of the river Marne. This Abbey she enriched with wonderful great revenues of whole villages, and Lordships, all which she delivered into the possession of the Nuns living there, strictly and severely obliging the rules thereof, in a precept sealed with her own hands, and the King's seal, that none hereafter should ever presume to alienate, or diminish any of the goods, or lands thereunto belonging, under pain of incurring damnation with the traitor Judas. And this writing she caused to be safely reserved in the treasury of the monastery: Where to this very day there liveth a very religious Convent of a 'bove threescore Nuns of S. benedict's order in a very strict observance of regular discipline. She is foundress of the Abbey of Corbey. iv THIS glorious Queen built an other monastery in the suburds of Amiens, called Corbey Abbey, and placed therein a devout flock of Monks likewise of S. benedict's order, over whom Theodofred was ordained Abbot. And to this place allsoe she gave great revenues of lands, and rends sufficient for the maintenance of a great Convent. It is almost incredible, unto how many other monasteries and abbeys of men, & women, and unto how many Churches else this devout Queen made donations of spacious lands, great goods, rich gifts and uncomparable ornaments, never ceasing from doing such pious offices for the pure and sincere love of God, whose honour and glory in all her actions she chiefly endeavoured to increase. V HER piety and virtue increased daily, and now she was in very great care to undertake a monastical life in the monastery of She is taken with a desire of areligious life. Chelles, which she had erected, and to dwell there in body, as she did in mind. But the Peers and Nobles of the Realm withstood her devout intentions, chiefly because by her wisdom the Palace was governed, and for that her pious conversation had gained the love of all; so that they had not permitted her to have her desire herein, had not a certain commotion happened about the miserable Bishop Sigebrand, whose pride amongst the French hastened his own death, and ruin. Hence therefore a contention arising amongst them, and having put the Bishop to death against the course of law, without examining his cause, fearing the blessed Queens severe punishment An example of the divine providence and revenge of so great and wicked an offence, they persuaded her to embrace her pious intended course, which before out of a temporal respect they would not permit her to do. But although the Princes did this rather out of policy than any love of goodness, yet the holy woman lightened by God's grace, considered that this came not to pass so much by their counsels as by the secret providence of the divine wisdom, to the end her intended devotion might by some occasion be fulfiled according to her desire. Being therefore conveyed by some of the most ancient Princes of France unto the long desired monastery of Chelles, and there by the Nuns honourably received into their company, she gave hearty She becometh a Nun. thankes unto almighty God, who hithereunto had preserved her under the shadow of his holy protection, and now had brought her unto the sweet haven of her desires. Now she that before swayed the Her obedience. sceptre of France, submitted herself to the obedience of a poor Abbess as her mother, appearing to the rest of her sisters, not as a mistress, but as a discreet servant in all things, pioufly bearing a serviceable duty unto them. And with such courage of mind she shown Her humility. unto all an example of sincere humility, that in her turn, she would serve her sisters (according to S. benedict's rule) in the office of the kitchen, washing, and cleansing all implements thereunto be longing, and performing all other base offices of the house. And these acts of humility she did with a merry and willing mind, for the pure love of him that saith in the Gospel; I came not to be served, but to serve. For what heart could ever think that the height of so Mat. 20. v. 28. great power should become a feruant in things so base, and abject, unless the mighty love of CHRIST had granted this special grace unto her? With tears she daily insisted at her devotions, and prayers: and often times frequented her spiritual lecture; and in her visitations of the sick, which were very frequent, her custom was to impart some pious consolation, and godly exhortation unto them. Her charity. She was so well practified in the study of charity, as she sorrowed with the sorrowful, rejoiced with the joyful; and for the weak, and sickly, she would often with humility put the Abbess in mind Rom. 12. to get them provided with necessary helps both for body, and soul: whose pious desire she like a good mother did very carefully see performed, for indeed, according to the rule of the Apostles, Act. 4. they had but one heart, and one soul; so dear and tenderly they loved each other in the true love of JESUS CHRIST. VI IN THE mean time this blessed woman began to be afflicted She falleth sick. with a sickness of body, and to labour grievously with a certain griping in the guts, which had brought her near her end, had not the grief been something assuaged by the power of physic. But although the force of her pain did cruelly torment her tender body, yet she ceased not out of the purity of a holy conscience, to give thankes unto the heavenly physician, who succoureth those that labour in tribulation, and from whom she confidently expected to receive the everlasting rewards of her suffering. And showing herself a great example of virtue unto others, she studied to give her sisters a pattern of true piety, obedience, and humility: often admonishing the Abbess to be likewise mindful of her duty towards the King, and Queen, and other Nobles their friends, that the house of God might not lose the good name, & fame it had gotten, but rather encease it more and more in the true affection of charity towards their friends, and chief to get strength, and constancy in the sacred love of God and their neighbours: for according to S. PAUL: We ought alsoe to have the good testimony of those which are 1. Tim. 3. without. But above all by the mercy and love of JESUS CHRIST she recommended unto her to have a very special care of the poor, and of strangers. VII. THEREFORE the death of this holy Saint being at hand, there appeared a famous vision unto her, in which she beheld a ladder standing up right before the altar of the B. Virgin Marie, the Her vision before she died. top whereof seemed to reach unto the heavens, and many Angels ascended thereon, which seemed to accompany, and lead her herself to the never dieing joys of Paradise. O truly happy, who in her journey had Angels her companions! This is the ladder, which she erected to heaven in her life time: These are her fellow Angels, whom by her exercise of good works, she made her friends: The degrees of this ladder are the twelve degrees of humility contained in the holy rule of S. BENEDICT, which she professed, by the continual exercise whereof she deserved to be exalted to the clear vision of of CHRIST JESUS the master of all humility. By this vision the holy woman plainly understood, that shortly she was to leave this world, and take her journey thither, where long since she had hidden her greatest, and chiefest treasure: commanding those that had been eye witnesses of the vision to conceal it from the rest of her sisters, that they might not be contristated, until it pleased almighty God to call her unto him. In midst of these joys she began more and more, with piety and alacrity of mind, to insist at her prayers, never ceasing with humility, and compunction of heart to recommend herself unto her heavenly King CHRIST JESUS: and hiding, as much as she was able, the vehemency of her grief, she consorted the Abbess Bertilia and the rest of her sisters with some hope of her recovery, easing them hereby of a present sorrow, which afterwards took them before they expected it. VIII. BUT perceaving, within a short time after, that now she She yields up her soul. was to pay nature her due, and feeling the violence of her pain to be ready to cut asunder the union of her soul, and body, confidently arming herself with the sign of our redemption, and lifting up her hands and eyes towards heaven, she yielded up her blessed soul out of the tedious fetters of the body, to be crowned with the diadem of eternal glory. For at the same instant, a divine splendour She is carried into heaven by Angels. shined over all the chamber, and with that very light, there appeared to the standers by, a troop of Angels, with whom came her faithful friend Genesins the Bishop to meet her, and by this heavenly troop her blessed soul, long tried in the furnace of affliction, was carried up out of their sight to receive the rewards of her holy merits, amongst the Angels, and Saints in heaven. She was buried in the little Church which she had built in honour of the holy Cross. But afterwards the many miracles wrought at her tomb, were cause that her body was taken up, and translated into the great Church of our Lady, which was not finished in her life time, where it is kept with great reverence, in a rich shrine over the high altar, and many times I myself have seen it solemnly carried in procession. This holy Nun, and great benefactor of S. benedict's order, died the thirtieth day of January; but her feast is celebrated this day. She flourished about the year of our Lord 669. Besides the author of her life extant in the first tome of LAURENCE SURIUS, whom we have followed, the Roman Martirologe, VSVARD, BARONIUS tom. 〈◊〉 ann. 665. TRITHEMIUS of the famous men of S. benedict's order lib. 3. c. 112. and many others do largely celebrate her praises. The life of S. SEXULPH Bishop and Confessor of S. benedict's order. JAN. 28. THIS holy man was the first Abbot and in some kind, founder of the Benedictine Abbey of Medishamsted, dedieated to S. PETER, which afterwards by reason of the greatness, was called Peterborough. In which office having for some years discharged the By his per suasion king wulfere built this Abbey. part of a good and religious Prelate, by the authority of Theodore Archbishop of Canturbury, he was consecrated Bishop of Lichfield, in place of Winfrid deposed from that Sea for his disobedience. He governed his people with very great sainctetie of life, and examples of good works for the space of three years, when being loaden with virtuous deeds he left this world, to take his place among his fellow Benedictin Monks in heaven about the year of our Lord 700. MATHEW WESTMINSTER ann. 614. HARPSFIELD saec. 7. c. 23. ARNOLD WION lib. 2. c. 46. TRITHEMIUS in his work of the famous men of S. benedict's order lib. 4. cap. 158. CAMDEN in desoritt. come. Northampt. and others make worthy mention of S. SEXULPH. The life of S. GYLDAS' Abbot and Confessor. JAN. 29. Out of an anncient author recited by john Capgrave. GYLDAS' borne in that part of Brittany now called Scotland, and one of the twenty four sons which a King of that country had by one wife, was from his youth of a very virtuous disposition, and much inclined to the knowledge of all manner of learning: for the better obtaining of his desire therein, he passed over into France, where he employed seven years in the continual study of all goods sciences; and returned into Brittany loaden with great store of books and learning. But to the end he might with more freedom attend unto the contemplation of heavenly He goeth into Frace to study. things, he with drew himself from the tumults of the world, into a solitary place of abode, where he led the life of an hermit, continually chastising his body with fasting, prayer, watchings, and haircloth. Yet his virtue could not lie so hid, but that many were drawn to him with the noise of his great fame, to be instructed both in religion, and learning; and at their departure they served as trumpets to invite others unto him, such great content they received in his virtuous life, and rare learning. Whatsoever gifts he received from the charity of the richer sort, he always distributed unto the poor, contenting himself with the riches of his His great austerity of life. own poverty. He never tasted any flesh, his ordinary food was herbs, and barley bread mingled with ashes, in steed of spice, his drink pure water out of the fountain. His continual abstinence had brought his face to such leannes, that he all ways appeared like a man that had a fever. At midnight his custom was to enter into the river up to the neck, and in that sort he powered out his prayers to almighty God, while his tears striven with the streams which should run fastest; afterwards he repaired to his oratory, and spent the rest of the night in prayer. His clothing was one single garment, in which only he took his rest, lying upon the down of a hard rock. Having taught many both in word and deed to follow the rules of good life, he departed into Jreland, where he converted a great multitude of that rude people to the faith of CHRIST. Shortly after returning into Brittany, he found his brother Howell slain by King Arthur, who humbly craving pardon of his fault, received from the Saint a salutation of peace, friendship, and forgiveness. He was a perpetual enemy unto the Pelagian Heretics, and to be the better informed against them, and their doctrine, he made a journey Against heresies he consulteth the Roman Church. to the fountain of true religion, Rome, and returned not only better instructed against them himself, but able to fortify, and strengthen others with such sound principles of Catholic religion, that they might easily defend their cause against all the vain batteries and proud bull warks of heresy. II. AT LENGTH he built a little Church upon a rock in an Island near unto the river Seaverne, where spending his time night He buildeth an ermitage. and day in continual prayer, he kept his mind wholly vacant and free from the world, and worldly creatures, seriously attending the contemplation of the divine goodness of his Creator. But being in such want of fresh water, that he had no other store but what was retained after a shower in little holes of the rock, he made his prayer to almighty God, who sent him a clear spring of water g●shing out of the same place. But by the frequent injuries and incursions He departeth to Glasten. bury. of Pirates, he was compelled to departed from hence to Glastenbury, & being honourably received of the Abbott, he instructed the Monks, and people thereabouts in the science both of humane & divine things, and building a little Church not fare from thence, he led there an eremitical life, in great austerity and penance. Unto whom, as unto an oracle, many came from all parts of Brittany, to partake of his wisdom, and learning. He, whose holy desires tended only towards heaven, strove with all the force of eloquence he could, to divert their minds from the transitory things of this world, and settle them on the only consideration of heaven. Having in this manner spent some years in this habitation, the holy man fell into a grievous sickness, which made him quickly understand that the hour of his death was nigh; therefore earnestly desiring of the Abbot to have his body buried at Glastenbury, and recommending his soul unto the hands of almighty God, he left this miserable world, to receive his reward in a better, the twenty ninth day of January, in the year of our Lord 512. His body, according to his desire, was buried at Glastenbury in the midst of the old Church. Of this holy Saint make mention MATHEW WESTMINST. N. HARPSFIELD saec. 6. cap. 23. JOHN CAPGRAVE, and others, whom we have followed. The life of S. BIRSTAN Bishop and Confessor. JAN. 30. Out of William Malmesbury, and Westminster. SAINT BIRSTAN being a man of most pure and sincere life was chosen Bishop of Winchester, where he ruled the space of four years. He was wont every day to sing or say Mass for the souls departed, and by night, without any fear he would walk about the Churchyard reciting psalms, and other prayers to the same end. And as once in his wont devotions he went this round, Mass and prayers for the dead. and added to the end of his prayers, Requiescant in pace: he heard from the ground the voices, as it were, of an infinite army that answered, Amen. Whereby he found his labours and prayers to be very grateful and profitable unto the souls departed. The same holy man being an ardent follower of our Lord's example, would every day without any spectators execute acts of profound humility, in washing with his own hands the feet of diverse poor people, covering them a table, giving them sufficiency of meat, and at length, His works of humility. as their devout servant, taking away what was left. This service being finished, and his poor guests dismissed, he would remain in the same room the space of two or three hours at his prayers. Until once entering according to custom to exercise these pions offices, not having been before troubled with sign of any sickness, suddenly unknown to all, his soul departed out of his mortal lodging, The manner of his death. leaving it void of all vital spirit. His family, and servants that had long been acquainted with his customs, thinking that then he was alsoe busied at his prayers, let him lie there a whole day. And the next morning breaking into his chamber, they found a dead body stark and stiff, without any sign of life. Therefore with great cries, and lamentations they buried him in the Church of Winchester. But the Citizens of the town, because they saw him intercepted by a kind of sudden death, buried the worthy memory of the holy man in the deep caves of silence: being ignorant that it is written; The man that liveth well, cannot die ill. And by what Sap. 4. death soever the just man shall be prevented, and overtaken, he shall be in a place of refreshing, and comfort. But a long time after this their rashness was corrected by the almighty power of him that cannot err, for to Ethelwold Bishop of the same place, (as one night he watched, and He appeareth to S. Ethelwold. prayed, according to his custom, before the relics of the Saints in the Church of Winchester) there appeared three persons, which stood by him, not in an ecstasy, but fully awake. The midst of the three spoke these words: I am BIRSTAN in times past Bishop of this city: This on my right hand is BIRINE the first preacher, and that on my left is SWITHINE the special Patron of this Church, and City. And thou must know, that as thou seest me here present with them, so do I enjoy the same glory with them in heaven. Why therefore am I deprived of the honour and reverence of mortal men, who am highly exalted in the company of heavenly spirits? Saint's are to honoured. At these words they vanished, and ever after by the commandment of S. ETHELWOLD his memory was celebrated with great veneration. By this we may learn that holy men (the providence of heaven so disposing) may sometimes be taken away by sudden death, and not without a special favour, in getting by a minute of pain, that which others cannot obtain but by many year's torments of sickness. This holy man was consecrated B. an. 932. & died in the year of our Lord 934. Thus much of him we have gathered out of WILLIAM MALMESBURY lib. 2. de Pontific. Angl. and MATHEW WESTMINSTER ann. 932. NICHOLAS HARPSFIELD saec. 10. cap. 8. POLIDORE VIRGIL lib. 6. ARNOLD WION lib. 2. lig. vitae, and others mak● worthy mention of him. The life of S. WILGIS' Confessor and Monk of the holy order of S. BENEDICT. JAN. 31. Out of S. Alcuinus in the life of S. willibrord THERE was in that part of the Brittsh Island called Northumberland a househoulder named Wilgis, by birth a Saxon or Englishman, who having been natural father unto WILLIBRORD afterwards a Saint, and Archbishop of Vtreight, as if he had performed the whole duty of his marriage, resolved both he and his wife to leave the world, and undertake a religious course of life; which holy purpose how virtuously he accomplished, was by miracles afterwards sufficiently testified, and made known to the world. For having left his secular garments, he put on the black monastical habit of the holy order of S. BENEDICT, and made profession of a Monk not He taketh the habit of S. Benedict. upon a forced service, but out of a true will and desire to religion. And because in leaving his house, and temporal goods, & enrouling himself into a spiritual warfare in the camp of JESUS CHRIST, he had undertaken a perfect life, he would not therefore be backward in what he professed, but in all things shown himself to be a most perfect servant unto the dear master he served. But when he had for a while given a pattern of his virtuous life in the school of the monastery, he became so brave a soldier, that the rudeness of the fearful desert could not affright him, for shutting up himself within the limits of a straight, and narrow cottage, that stood between He leadeth an eremitical life. the Ocean, and the river Humber, dedicated to S. ANDREW the Apostle, he laboured in the exercise of a solitary conversation and imitating his grand master S. BENEDICT, he led a heavenly and angelical life on earth, in pureness exceeding the ruddy blush of the rose, or the whiteness of the fair lily; but delightfully shining with a more sweet variety of virtues, then doth a dove in the beams of the sun with diversity of colours. Within a short space his desire to lie hid, was betrayed by the wonder of his frequent miracles, and his name was blown so fare abroad with the trumpet JAN. 31. of fame, till it arrived at the King's Court, and sounded such an alarm all over the country of Scotland, that great store of people flocked unto him, whom he never sent away empty, but always loaden with the sweet instructions and admonitions of his heavenly learning, The fame of his virtue draws many scholars. being compelled hereuppon to labour sometimes in a contemplative, and other times in a practical manner of life. He became at last of so great esteem, and honour with the King and Nobles of the Realm, that they gave him the possession of some lands near adjoining, and bestowed many other rich gifts upon him, by help whereof he built an honourable Church on the Sea side in honour of the B. Virgin MARIE, and gathered together a Convent of Bevedictine Monks, small in number, but great in the exercise of true virtue and religion. These he governed as Abbott with all sanctity of He buildeth a monastery. life & doctrine, until the divine clemency willing to set a period to the conflicts of his holy labours, absolved this his worthy champion from the most painful warfare of this present life, to reign in his heavenly Court, which so long he had thirsted for, and desired. He was very honourably buried in the same Church which he had built, and at his tomb have been wrought many, and wonderful miracles, which give evident testimony of how great price, and dignity his most blessed soul is held to be in the sight of almighty God. He died the 29. of January, but his feast is celebrated on this day in the Benedictin Abbey of S. WILLIBRORD in Germany, where (saith S. Wine wonderfully increased by his merits. ALCVINE) on the annual feast of S. WILGIS, there being but one flagon of wine in the house, it was by the merits of this B. Saint so miraculously increased, that the whole Convent of Monks, which were a great number, having every one drunk two cups thereof, it was nothing at all diminished; whereupon the Abbott & Monks giving thankes unto almighty God, with joyful sobriety, and sober jollity every man drank as much he desired. Thus much out of S. ALCVINE in the life of S. WILLIBRORD, MOLANUS, JOHN CAPGRAVE, THEOFRID Abbot of S. Willibrords' Monastery in Germany make worthy mention of him. The life of S. BRIGITT Virgin of Kildare in Ireland. FEB. 1. Written by Cogitosus an Author of the same time GOD is wonderful in his works, and his power is infinite, in that he draweth good out of our naughtiness, and condemneth not the souls of the children, for the sins of their parents, but contrary wise he gathers roses oftentimes out of the midst of thorns, and produceth a clear day out of the darkness of an ugly night. We have a peculiar experience here of in the life of this holy virgin S. BRIGITT; which followeth. II. THERE was in Ireland a man called Duptac, who having purchased as a slave a young and not unhandsome woman named Brocca, became so amorous, and fond of her, that at length her Her parents and birth. great belly witnessed their more than honest familiarity together. His own wife perceaving this naughty husbandry, was highly enraged against her husband, forcing him by all means to make a resale of this slave; and refusing to be persuaded to pity either by earnest prayers, remonstrances, or indeed by the holy revelations which two good Bishops had of the treasure which the slave carried in her womb. In a word, the good wi●e could take no rest nor repose until she saw her husband's minion (as she termed her) out of her house; the poor slave at her time was delivered of a daughter, which was called BRIGITT, whom as soon as she had over grown the use of her nurse, her father took home again into his own house, where being very carefully brought up, she always carried herself honest, The virtues of her youth humble, peaceable, obedient, and above all so charitable, that unintreated she took upon her the office of Almoner in her father's house, giving away to the poor whatsoever she could lay hold on: & among other things she had given away her father's sword. For this cause meaning to rid her away, he went to the King, & offered him a bargain of her, at an easy rate. The King having asked her, why she gave her father's sword to the poor; I gave it (replied she) to CHRIST himself; and truly if God would demand it, and that I were able, I would freely give my soweraigne lord the King, and my father himself, with both your goods and possessions, unto his divine goodness, Hereat the king amazed said: Thy daughter is of too much worth either for thee to sell, or for me to buy; and giving her a sword to make restitution unto her father, he sent her away. III. These virtues of her soul were accompanied with an exceeding Her beauty of Body. fair beauty of body, and especially her face and eyes were so excellent in that gift, that they ravished the hearts of all those that beheld her; and made many desire and seek her in marriage. Her father being much sued unto on all sides, and not knowing how to rid himself of those impatient wooers, nor answer their importunity, motioned the matter to his daughter, giving her free leave to make choice of a husband according to her own liking, amongst that band of suitors. But BRIGITT, who desired JESUS CHRIST for her only dear spouse, and to consecrate her virginity unto him, She obtained the loss of an eye to avoid suitors. was quite of an other intention, and knowing that the beauty of her face was the chief cause of these rude assaults, she prayed heartily unto her sacred spouse, to give such a deformity unto it, as might hereafter breed rather a detestation of all the than love of any towards her. Our Lord heard her prayer, and granted her request, by the loss of one of her fair eyes, which burst and dropped out of her head like a dissolved pearl: and by this means she became so defformed, that no man sought after her any more; when she got her father's consent to hasten her entrance into a monastery of religious women, which was the only height and aim of her desires. At the time she received the holy vayse of chastity from the hands of Machil Bishop and disciple unto S. PATRICK, he beheld She entereth into religion, and is restored to her former beauty. a pillar of fire hang over her head, and as she inclined her body and laid her hand on the foot-step of the altar, which albeit it was of dry seasoned wood, yet at her touch, and in testimony of her chastity, it waxed green, and flourished afresh; and at the very same instant her eye was restored again, and her face became more beautiful than ever. For it seemed her dear spouse would not endure, that she who had desired to lose her beauty to preserve her virginity, should remain in such deformity. iv WE should never come to an end, if we went about to set down in this paper, all the rare and excellent virtues of this blessed virgin, with this wonderful great miracles, which our Saviour wrought at her intercession: It shall suffice to rehearse some only. She freeth a young maid from t●e company of the devil. Being by a young maid invited to dinner, she saw the devil sitting by her side that had invited her, and having asked him what he did there, and why he came thither: He answered, that the weakness, and idleness of that maid, invited him to stay with her, with whom he found himself very welcome. The maid having heard these words, spoken with a long and intelligible voice, and seeing not the author, was much amazed, until (being willed by S. BRIGITT) she made the sign of the cross on her eyes, & then she saw that dreadful ugly beast, belching flames of fire out of his horrid throat: which sight, together with the persuasion of the Saint, made her to acknowledge her fault, and amend her life, being freed ever after of the company of that infernal monster. V A WOMAN bringing unto this holy virgin a basket of apples A woman punished for disobeying her. for a present, found at the self same time some poor lepers at the door expecting an alms. The Saint bade her give those apples unto the wretches at the door: but the woman (whether of niggardliness, or out of some horror she conceived) refused so (as she thought) basely to bestow them, saying that she brought them for her, and her religious sisters, and not for such loathsome creatures. This answer much displeased the holy virgin, who sharply reprehending her for hindering a work of charity, with a prophetic spirit told her, that in punishment of this offence all the trees in her orchard should whither away, & never bear fruit again: the woman departed, and being come home found her trees, which she had left well stored with apples, to have store of nothing but want; and from that time they remained dry, barren, and fruitless ever after. VI A NAUGHTY woman, being delivered of a son unlawfully begotten, the better to hide her offence, laid it to the charge of the holy Bishop Broon disciple to S. PATRICK. But when he avowed the contrary, that he was most free from any such wicked act, S. BRIGITT sent for the woman, and asked her who was the father of Punishment of 〈◊〉. her child, she answered very impudently, that no man but the Bishop had to do with it. Whereupon the Saint making the sign of the Cross upon the mouth of that vile woman, presently her shameless tongue swelled in her head, that she could not speak. She also made the same sign of life on the tongue of the little infant, A newborn child speaketh. and demanded of him who was his father? A straying miracle! he that never spoke word before, answered very distinctly, that it was not the Bishop, but a deformed, and vile fellow the basest amongst all the common people; and thus by the discovery of the truth, the holy Bishop's reputation remained untouched, that miserable woman did penance for her slander, and the people gave thankes unto the almighty searcher of our hearts, and secrets. VII. THE daughter of a great Prince having vowed perpetual chastity, and chosen JESUS CHRIST for her only spouse, was nevertheless forcibly solicited by her father to marry. On the day appointed The virtue of the sign of the Cross. for her marriage, when the banquet, and all other rich preparations were in a readiness, she stole away secretly from her father's house, and fled for refuge into S. BRIGITTS' monastery. Her father accompanied with many horsemen, pursued her, meaning to take her out by force: the Saint seeing them come, made the sign of the Cross on the ground, and at the very instant the men, horses, and all stood flock still, like so many statues. Then the Prince acknowledging the strength of the mighty hand of God to hold him, did penance for his rashness, and at the prayer of the Saint both he and and his followers were set at liberty, and his daughter persevered in the performance of her sacred vow. VIII. THIS blessed Saint having cured many diseases, the fame of her sanctity was blown over the country, which made two lepers come unto her, with tears entreating to receive their S. Brigitt cureth lepers. health, for whom, having made her prayer unto almighty God, she blessed a little water, and bade them wash one and other therewith; one of them being cured, she commanded him to wash his companion; but he was so ravished with joy to see himself recovered, and so fearful to lose his health again, that he had not the courage either to wash, or touch his fellow, fearing thereby to repurchase his disease; but he felt the punishment of God, being suddenly covered all his body: over with the same leprosy, when he saw his companion perfectly healed by the prayers of the holy Virgin. IX. IN THE monastery of S. BRIGITT, among her other Nun●●● there was one beautiful young dame, grievously haunted with A Nun grievously troubled with lascivious thoughts. lascivious thoughts which had entered into her heart at the gates of her eyes, by impurely gazing on a dishonest person, unto whom she had promised a meeting at time convenient. The flame of her filthy affections increased daily, and the devil (according to his custom) forgot not to blow those impure coals, never suffering the poor soul to take any rest (so necessary a thing it is to keep a close guard over the gates of our senses, for fear we give death an entrance into our soul) so that being near unto the utter ruin, and shipwreck of her chastity, whilst S. BRIGIT (unto whom our Saviour had revealed all that passed) made her prayer for her, she was inspired by Is cured by the prayers of S. Brigitt. almighty God, to go barefoot upon hit burning coals; which she performed, and by the heat of one ●ier, she quenched the flames of the other; and by the sensual pain of her body, overcame the eternal heat which did torment her soul. On the morrow S. BRIGITT spoke these comfortable words unto her: Because (said she) thou hast fought courageously this night, and extinguished the flames of wantonness which made war against thee, hereafter thou shalt be exempted both from them, and the fire of hell: then making her prayers unto almighty God for her, she was cured of the burning of her feet, and quite freed from the wont temptations, which did molest her. X. A MAID named Daria which was blind, entreated S. BRIGIT to make the sign of the cross on her eyes, by means thereof she She giveth sight to a blind maid not only recovered her sight, but allsoe by an inward light in the soul she understood, that all whatsoever she could see in this world was subject to corruption, and vanity, and that that which we see oftentimes with our corporal eyes is but a bar, and hindrance to the soul; therefore she returned unto S. BRIGITT, and desired to be restored again to her former blindness. The Saint by her prayers shut up the windows of her eyes in darkness, which before she had opened to behold the light. A Lady of that country who had a daughter that was dumb from her very birth, brought her at the age of twelve years unto S. BRIGITT, who taking the girl by the hand, said: Wilt thou for the love of JESUS CHRIST keep perpetual chastity? Her mother answered, that her daughter forsooth, She ●ureth a dumb gytle. was dumb, and could not speak. Nevertheless (replied S. BRIGITT) I will not let her go, till she answer me. Then the girl spoke, & said, she would obey her commands in all things: In performance whereof she remained a virgin ever after, and spoke as well, and as distinctly as ani● of her sex. XI. NINE men conspired amongst themselves the death of one man, whom they were agreed to kill at a set day: S. BRIGITT being She delivereth a man from being slain by his enemi●●. advertised hereof, laboured as much as was possible by prayers and entreaties to avert them from this wickedness, but finding their cruel minds to be so obstinately bend to that bloody purpose, as they grew rather worse by entreaties, she had recourse unto almighty God her only refuge in distress, humbly desiring him to hinder the execution of their malicious intent. On the day appointed when they went about to act this bloody scene, they saw the very for me and figure of the man they meant to murder, and taking a figure for the true body (as our protestāns do) they ran after with great fury to kill one who was dead already, and having given him as many mortal wounds, as were sufficient to have murdered the strongest living man, they returned victorious to bring news of their triumph unto S. BRIGITT: who smiling at their mistake, told them the man they thought they had slain, was yet alive, and that their courage had exercised his cruelty only upon the imaginary figure of their enemy, and no man. Hereuppon being much astonished, they acknowledged their fault, and repenting them of their wicked purposes, corrected their lives ever after. XII. OUR Lord wrought diverse other miracles by the holy merits Many miracles done by S. Brigitt. of this blessed virgin; the blind their sight, the dumb their speech, lepers, and other diseased persons recovered their health. By her prayers she turned water into beer; and stones into salt; she changed the course of a great river, and which is more, by her good persuasions, many desperate wicked fellows withdrew themselves out of the gulfs of their vicious manner of life, and entered into the sure port of religion, where they finished their days in the service of JESUS CHRIST. When this blessed virgin ●ad happily ended the course of her life, and endured manine great labours for the love of JESUS CHCIST her dear spouse, (being advertised of her death, and having made it known unto one of her sisters, specifiing Her death. the day & hour thereof) she gave up her pure soul into the hands of her dear Redeemer, the first day of February in the year of our Lord according to Sigebert 518. but Marianus Scotus saith 521. in the reign of the Emperor justin the elder. Her life was written by an author of her time named COGITOSUS, and by JOANNES ANGLICUS, JOHN CAPGRAVE whom we have followed. The Roman Martirologe maketh mention of S. BRIGITT, as allsoe that of S. BEDE, VSVARD, and ADONIS: and BARONIUS in his seaventh tome of Annals. But GYRALDUS CAMBRENSIS a very grave author in his topography of Ireland, amongst many other miracles of this Blessed saint, maketh mention of S. BRIGITTS' fire Miracle▪ of S. Brigitts. fi●r. which is reported to be unextinguished, not that it cannot be extinguished, but because the Nuns did so carefully, and continually nourish and feed it which new matter: that from her time for many hundred years after, it neverwent out, and in the consuming of so much wood, which had been burnt there, in all this time, the ashes never increased. This fire was compassed about with a little hedge of twigs, within which no man dared to enter; & if at any time some did presume so to do, their presumption was punished by a revenge from heaven. Women only did blow it, and that, not with their mouths but either with bellowes, or a fan. An Archer that rashly attempted to leap over the headge and blow S. BRIGITTS fire with his mouth, suddenly lost his wits and fell into madness, and running up and down the town, put his breath in the faces of all he met, saying: dost thou see? thus I blew BRIGITS fire: and wheresoever he found any fire, he would blow it, still repeating the same words: till at length being taken by his companions, and bound hand and foot, he desired to be brought to the next water, where he drank so much to quench his extreme drought, that he burst his belly, and died. Many others (saith GIRALDUS) were punished for the like attempt. XIV. But who doth not behold & admire, in the life of this glorious A brief consideration of her vettues, and miracles. Saint, the wonderful greatness of the goodness of almighty God, who out of the sin of her Parents, drew so precious a jewel, as S. BRIGITT, making a poor slave to be the mother unto her, that deliuer●● so many captive souls out of the servitude, and slavery of sin? How could the frail vessel of a poor bondslave gyrlo, be capable of the noble condition of so great love unto virtue, and of such a boiling desire of pure Virginity, that for the preserving thereof she chose rather to lose the tenderest part of her body, her eyes, and to deface her beauty, the very Idol of women, then to consent unto a lawful marriage? How manifestly it appreares hereby, that our B. Saviour is sweet, and gracious to his true servants, in restoring unto BRIGITT her beauty of which at her own request, and for her greater good, he had before deprived her? So that it is no wonder, if she that knew so well how to keep her own virginity untouched, and sacrifice it unto her dear lord, was allsoe of power by her prayers to obtain the like favour for other young women, and deliver the innocence of the good Bishop from the calumny which that wicked woman laid upon him; and that God hath wrought by this blessed virgin the miracles before rehearsed. Let him be ever Praised, and glorified as well for that which he is in himself, as allsoe for what he worketh by his saints, Amen. decorative device depiction of St. Lawrence, Archbishop of Canterbury S. LAURENTIUS ARCHIEPISCOPUS CANTVARIEN▪ Monachus Benedictinus. Feb. 2. The life of S. LAURENCE Archbishop of Canturbury, of the holy order of S. BENEDICT. FEB. 2. Out of Bede de gest. Ang. SAINT LAURENCE was one of those Benedictin Monks whom Pope GREGORY the great sent with S. AUGUSTIN to preach the Gospel of JESUS CHRIST to our English nation, in which pious work he laboured wonderfully to gain souls out of the blindness of Idolatry to the light of the true Catholic faith. He was a man of excellent learning, and virtuous life: And when Ethelbert King of Kent, and most part of his kingdom were baptised; S. AUGUSTIN sent the holy monks LAURENCE and PETER to Rome to bring unto the holy Pope the joyful tidings of their happy success. S. Austin chooseth Laurence for his successor in Canturbury. After his return into England, when S. AUGUSTIN Archbishop of Canturburic perceived the time of his death to draw near, lest that Church as yet but raw, & rude in religion, being one hour destitute of a pastor should begin to waver, he ordained Laurence for his successor; plainly following herein the example of the first Pastor of the universal Church the Prince of the Apostles Saint PETER, who in like manner instituted Clement to succeed him in the primacy of the sea of Rome. S. LAURENCE being installed in the dignity of the Archbishopric, began with great courage, and industry to augment and promote the foundations of Christian religion so nobly laid, and by his frequent preaching, exhortations, and continual examples of pious works he endeavoured to advance them to due height of perfection. Neither did he only His care of all the Churches. take the charge and care of the new Church of the English, but was allsoe very solicitous, and careful of the ancient inhabitants of Britain, not forgetting allsoe to be a pastoral guardian of the Scots, and Irish. For understanding the manner of life and profession of faith of the Britan's and Scots to be in many things scarce Ecclesiastical, and chief that they did not celebrate their Easter in due time, but judged it to be observed between the fourteenth of the Moon and the twentith, he, together with his fellow-Bishops writ unto them an epistle of exhortation, desiring, and conjuring them to keep the same unity of peace, and Catholic observance, which was observed in the Church of CHRIST over all the world. Of which his Epistle this was the beginning: His Epistle to the Scotish or Irish Bishops. LAURENCE, MELLITUS, and JUSTUS' servants of the servants of God, unto our most dear brothrens the Bishops, and abbots throughout all Scotland. When the Sea Apostolic (according to the accustomed manner thereof, which is to send to all parts of the world) directed us into these Western quarters to preach the word of God unto Pagans, and heathens, and we happened to enter this Island called Britain, indging (before we knew) that all who were Christians, walked according to the custom of the untuersall Church, we honoured with great reverence of sanctity, as well the Britan's, as the Scots. But now having had some knowledge of the Britan's errors, we judged better of the Scots. Till we understood by Dagamus Bishop that came into this foresaid Island, and by Columban Abbot in France, that the Scots in their conversation do nothing differre from the Britain's. For Dagamus Bishop being here, refused not only to eat with us, but would not taste any meat under the same Roof with us etc. In like manner S. LAURENCE together with his other fellow-Bishops sent letters worthy his calling, unto the Priests of the Britan's whereby he endeavoured to reduce them to the unity of the Catholic Church. But all his labour profitted little, so obstinate and perverse they were in their foretaken opinions. II. IN the mean time a most grievous tempest, and perturbation arose in the Church. For B. Ethelbert King of Kent being dead, Eabald his successor utterly destroying his Father's holy institutions of A perturbation in the English Chur. Christianity, ran headlong into all manner of vice and wickedness, & marrying his stepmother, he lived in that foul fornication, which the Apostle so highly detested in the Corinthian. Together with him the Noblemen, and many of the people (choosing rather to offend God, than not to follow the King's fashion) fell (as the manner is) from their Catholic institution, into all manner of looseness and lewdness of life, and religion. To augment these miseries, about the same time Sigebert King of the East-Angles being dead, his sons fell from the Catholic religion (which in their Father's time they seemed to approve) into the flat profession of their ancient Idolatry. Therefore in the midst of these so great difficulties, the holy Monks & Bishops Mellitus of London, and Justus of Rochester met at Canturbury, to deliberate with S. LAURENCE what was best to be done. At length they were brought to such straits, that they determined rather to return into their own country, there to serve God in peace and quietness, then to lose their labours among these barbarous people so rebellious to the faith of CHRIST. Mellitus, and Justus departed into France, there to expect what would be the event of these mi The Bishops fly into Frace. series, whom S. LAURENCE promised shortly to follow, unless the wickedness of the time did change. In the mean space he ceased not to admonish and persuade the King and people with all the force of arguments he could invent, that they ought not so silthyly to forsake such excellent precepts of religion, and soeunaduisedly fall from the great happiness already obtained. But the king finding the holy Bishop to withstand him, and his desires, began daily to have a greater aversion from him, and grew at length to be so maliciously bend against him, that LAURENCE inteded wise to go after his Brother-Bishops into France. III. THE night before he meant to departed, he commanded his bed to be prepared in the very Church of S. PETER & PAUL; where, having Laurence meaning to fly is scourgedby S. PETER poured out his hearty prayers, bathed in tears, for the present miserable state of the Church, he betook himself to his rest, & fell asleep; During which the Prince of the Apostles S. PETER appeared unto him, and having severely scourged his nacked back & shoulders with sharp stripes a good space of the night, he asked him by a strict apostolical authority; wherefore he would forsake the flock which he had committed to his charge? & to what other pastor he would dismiss the sheep of CHRIST, from which he intended to fly, & leave them in the midst of wolves? Hast thou forgot mine exaple (said he) who for the little ones of JESUS-CHRIST, which in testimony of his love he recommended unto me, have suffered chains, stripes imprisonments, & afflictions, and at last death itself upon a cross? S. LAURENCE with these stripes of the Apostle, although wounded in body yet much encouraged in mind, went the next morning to the king, & discovering his back, shown him how cruelly he was scourged and tome. The king much amazed hereat, demanded who durst be so bold, as to exercise such cruelty on so great and worthy King. Edbald renounceth Idolatry. a man, and understanding that the holy Bishop had endured those cruel blows from the Apostle S. PETER, & all for his health's sake, he was exceedingly affrighted, & thereupon abandoning all Idolatry, and rejecting his unlawful marriage, he embraced the faith of CHRIST and was baptised by S. LAURENCE: which done, he called Melli●us, and justus out of France, remaining ever after constant in the Catholicque faith. BUT S. LAURENCE having again settled his bishopric in good order, and reduced the people of the country to the fold of CHRIST, being desirous allsoe (as we S. Laurence Preacheth in Scotland have said) to bring the Scots and Britain's to the unity of God's Church, went into Scotland. In which journey he is reported to have walked (like an other S. PETER) over an arm of the sea on foot, when the mariner that refused to carry him ou●r, was in his sight punished with fire from heaven, & swallowed up together with his boat in the merciless gulfs of the Sea. Preaching in a certain village, & finding no man that would receive either him or his doctrine, but rashly expelled him from amongst them, he was forced that night to take a hard lodging under a hedge, being exposed to the injury of the wind and weather; But almighty god, who never forsaketh his servants, sent forth a bright shining light, which encompassed the holy man with such splendour, that the next approaching morning might well blush at the lustre of his brightsom night. And the same almighty power shot a dreadful thunderbolt into that village which had refused to harbour his messenger, whereby it was fired, destroyed, and buried for ever in its own ruins. Afterwards, Tonanus a Bishop of Jreland understanding of the fame of S. LAURENCE and of his preaching, came to see him, and having heard him dispute of the apostolic institutions of the Catholic Church, and of the true observance of Easter, he embraced the truth, and earnestly endeavoured to reduce his own country unto the same. V LAURENCE returning again into Kent, happened by the way to lodge in a house, where his Hosts son was newly dead, and He raiseth a dead boy to life. the father and mother wonderfully lamenting their loss, desired him if he would have them believe in the faith of him he preached, to restore their son to life again. The Holy Bishop having made his prayer unto almighty God, full of faith and confidence in him (that promised, whatsoever you shall ask in my name shall be granted unto you) commanded the boy to rise; and he arose forth with, and related how when S. LAURENCE prayed for him, he was by the hand of bright-shining Angels taken out of the ugly claws of the black horrid spirits, and restored to his body again. Moved with this miracle the father, and mother of the boy, together with all their whole household, and Kindred, received the faith of CHRIST, and were at the same time washed in the sacred font of Baptism. At length this holy Prelate, having for the space almost of eleven years governed the Sea of Canturburie, continually labouring in His happy death. the promotion of god's cause, left this world to receive the everlasting rewards of his labours in a better; the second day of February in the year of our Lord 619. He was buried near unto S. AUGUSTIN his predecessor in the Benedictin Abbey of Canturbury dedicated unto S. PETER and S. PAUL, which had been founded in S. AUGUSTINS' time, but was perfected, and consecrated by S. LAURENCE. And in the Epitaph over his tomb mention is made of his scourging, in this verse. Pro populo Christi Scapulas dorsumque dedisti. A long time after his death together with his fellow-Bishops and Saints, AUGUSTINE and MELLITUS, he appeared in glory to a lame cripple, whose legs, by the contraction of the sinews, grew fast to his haunches, but as he prayed for help in the same Church the Blessed Saint with his own hands seemed to dissolve his joints, & sinews, so that he suddenly found himself to be perfectly cured. This life me have gathered chiefly out of VENERABLE BEDE de geft. Ang. lib. 2. and JOANNES ANGLICUS recited by JOHN CAPGRAVE. Mention is made of him in the Roman Martirologe this day. TRITHEMIUS of the famous men of S. benedict's order lib. 3. cap. 59 Harpsfield s●c. 7. cap. 7. MALMESBURY de gest. reg. Angl. lib. 1. cap. 1. and de gest. P●ntif. Angl. lib. 1. and all our English historiographers do whorthyly speaks his praises. The life of S. WEREBURG Virgin and Abbess of the Holy order of S. BENEDICT. FEB. 3. Out of diverse grave onthors. AS a precious diamond, when it is artificially, and well set in a gold ring, giveth a double lustre, and grace unto the eye, so the virtues of the mind which are engrafted in the nobility of birth, and beauty, of body, do shine with a fare greater glory, and dazzle the beholders with more admiration. A strong proof hereof we have in the life of the glorious virgin S. WEREBURG, who by the sanctity, and virtues of her good life, ennobled the resplendent royalty and no blencs of her birth. She was daughter unto Wulfere Her royal parentage. King of the Mercians and S. ERMENILD his Queen. Being therefore borne of a noble and holy race, and in beauty excelling many other of her equals, she judged it a thing very unseemly to degenerate from the virtue and glory of her Ancestors, or that the vilences of a corrupted soul should blemish and deform the beauteous grace of so fair a body. And because she had her beginning from noble progenitors, she abhorred the terrene desires of the lovers of this world, to unite herself to the most worthy spouse of all chaste souls CHRIST JESUS, unto whom she betrothed the pure and holy soul of her unstained body. Gould, gems, costly apparel, and whatsoever else the gorgeous pomp of this world doth brag of, seemed unto her rather odious then glorious. II. AT LENGTH, the time being come when she was resolved to celebrate her spiritual spousage, she went to the monastery of Benedictin She taketh the habit of S. Benedict. Nuns at Ely, where CHRIST and his angels being witnesses, she received the sacred veil of virginity, and ranged herself into the company of those holy virgins under the rule of S. BENEDICT, and the government of Etheldred her aunt, them abbess of the same place. From which time, treading under foot the vain pride of the world she ever shown herself an humble handmaid of CHRIST, & by submitting herself to all her other sisters, she overcame them all in the virtue of true humility, always serving their necessity with the pious works of a boiling charity: not forgetting likewise to keep a special guard over her own actions, lest she should commit any small oversight, which might be displeasing unto her heavenly spouse, for whose love she had forsaken the pomp of the world, which mortals so much admire. The whole forces & powers of her soul were bend only to endeavour which way she might become excellent in silence, abstinence, watchings, pious reading, and holy Her pious. exercises. meditations. That in a short time, she went as fare beyond her other companions in these and all other virtues, as she excelled the in the nobility of blood: yet always thinking so humbly of herself that she was ever most ready to obey them all, and to undergo the basest offices of the house. In a word, all her life was such, that although as others do, she carried her body upon earth, yet she always had her mind fixed in heaven, and heavenly things. III. AFTER she had a long time given such a pattern of virtue and religion in the monastery of Ely, king Wulfere her father being She is made Abbess of three Nunneries. dead; Etheldred her uncle then reigning over the kingdom of Mercia, sent for her home into her own country and gave her the government of three monasteries of Benedictine Nuns (to wit Trentam and Hindbury in Staffordsshire, and Wedune in Northamptonshire) that with her good and pious example she might there promote the observance of heavenly, and immortal life, where she had first received her mortal breath. In this authority, she carried herself with so great sanctity, and prudence, that she worthily obtained a wonderful praise and name in the world, of piety, wisdom, and discretion. For in such wise she exercised the authority of a mistress, that she seemed allsoe to bear the condition of a servant, instructing her subjects in the way of virtue, more by her own example, then by imperious commanding. iv AS ON a time she made some stay at her monastery of Wedune near Southampton, news was brought that an infinite company of wild-geese yearly accustomed to make a very great spoil in the corn, and other pastures belonging to the monastery. Whereupon she commanded the messenger to return, and bring them all before him into the pound. He, although he imagined the holy Note a wonderful miracle. virgin flouted him, went into the fields, and seeking to drive those wild fowls off the corn, he found that not one of that almost infinite multitude once offered to lift up his wings to fly away; therefore perceaving now a possibility in what he judged before impossible, he began to drive them forward, when they went before him, (like so many sheep) on a foot pace, hanging down their heads as it were, out of the confusion of their own guiltiness, till he had them in the place apppointed, where he shut them up as close prisoners all that night. Never were so many wild The Wild fowl obeyeth her command. creatures at once, under lock and key before. The next morning betimes, with their cackling notes they began to cry out, like poor prisoners for pardon for their offence, or at lest for sustenance to maintain nature alive. The holy virgin, who was ever of a mild disposition towards all creatures; commanded them to be set at liberty, with a strait charge threatened against them never to return again into those parts. She had no sooner spoke, than obedience followed, for the whole troop of those geese fled away so fare that never after any of the same kind once appeared, within the confines of that monastery. V A HERDSMAN belonging unto her monastery called Al●…thus, a man of very good life, was oftentimes much injured, and at length, in presence of the holy Virgin, sorely beaten, and wounded by the Baylyf of the same place, all which the good man quietly bore of with the buckler of patience; whilst S. WERBURG on her knees with prayers mingled with threatenings, cried out on him to spare the One strangely punished for notobeying S. Werburg poor innocent: but his fury and pride swelling in her humility, disdained to listen to her pious entreaties but pursued his rude cruelty; when by the just judgement of god he received his punishment: for presently his stubborn eneck, and frowning visage was after a horrid manner, writhe and turned backwards to look behind him, since he refused a good look to the servant of god which kneeled for pity before him. This made his stout heart to relent, and throwing himself prostrate at her feet, with repentant tears he demanded pardon of his offence, so that she from a defendant became a judge, by whose holy mediation and suffrage unto the eternal judge, he had his face restored unto the ancient seat again. And the same Herdsman Alnothus led a solitary and anachoreticall life in a wood near adjoining, until he was martyred by the thiefs that haunted the same. VI AT LENGTH the B. Virgin WEREBURG having for manies years prudently done the office of a loving mother over her three monasteries, foreseeing the time of her death to be at hand, she commanded her Nuns, that wheresoever she died, they should bury her body at the monastery of Handbury: And within a short Her happy death. time after (being then at Trentham) she went out of this world, to go to the heavenly union, and marriage of her dear, and long desired spouse in Paradise. She died the third day of February about the year of our Lord 676. and her body was honourably buried at Her body found uncorrupted. the monastery of Handbury, where her tomb was famous for many miracles. Nine years after, her body being taken up, it was found uncorrupted, with her on, her face lily white, only her cheeks a little sprinkled with red; all in the same manner, as when she was alive: and thus she remained without corruption until by the just judgement of god, the sins of our wretched country were punished by the Danish sword: when, left so pure a relic should be profaned by the hands of those Barbarous and incredulous people, her body resolved into dust, and her bones were removed to Westchester, into the Benedictin monastery; where afterwards a goodly Church was built, by Hugh Earl of Chester, and dedicated to her name, which to this day is called S. WEREBURGS' Church, and is the Cathedral of that city. Many miracles were wrought in those days at her holy relics, and the like without question would allsoe be done in these our times, were not the present faith of our country such, and so great, as it is no faith at all. Her life we have gathered chief out of JOANNES ANGLICIUS, or JOHN CAPGRAVE, NICHOLAS HARPSFIELD hist. Eccle. saee. 7. cap. 23. and WILLIAM MALMESBURY de gest. reg. Ang. lib. 2. cap. 13. and de gest. Pontif. lib. 4. FLORBNTIUS WIGO●NIENSIS an. 676. POLIDORE VIRGIL lib. 4. de regno Merciorum. CONTINVATOR B●DAE lib. 2. cap. 33. JOHN SPEED in his history of England, and others do make honourable mention of her The life of S. GILBERT of Sempringham Confessor, Author of the Gilbertin monks. FEB 4. Out of Nicholas Harpsfield and others SAINT GILBIRT was son to joceline a worthy Norman Soldier, his mother was an English woman, who before his birth had a famous vision foreshowing his greatness, when in her sleep the moon seemed to fall into her lap. He was borne at Sempringham in Lincolnshire. In his father's house he was of so poor esteem, that the very servants would scarce deign to eat their meat with him. For in feature of body he was something rude and unhandsome. Being set to school, and profiting but poorly, he went into France, where by his good endeavours, he attained unto the degree of master in the liberal sciences. Afterwards returning into England His care in bringing up young children. he bent his whole labours, piously, and freely to bring up children of both sexes, whom he not only instructed in the rudiments of learning, but allsoe gave them exact, and as it were, monastical rules of good manners prescribing unto them certain times, and places, when to read their lessons, when to talk, and when to be silent; always endeavouring from his very youth to win souls unto CHRIST, and to profit whomsoever he could, by word, work, and good example. In the mean time, his father, who was Lord of the two Churches Sempringham, and Tyrington, being much delighted with the virtuous life of his son, bestowed both those benefices upon him. Which charge he performed with so great care and diligence, that by his often preaching, and worthy example of virtues, he did greatly incite his Parishioners to follow the footsteps of his piety; in so much that wheresoever they went, their religion, and piety gave a clear testimony unto what Pastor, and Parish they belonged. Yet there wanted not some one (as it is ordinary in so great a multitude) who nothing answering the expectation of so good a Pastor, had deceived him in the payment of their tithes. GILBERT having found out this deceit, brought A rare example of zeal. the deceiver to such straits, that he compelled him to empty his barns again, and counting his corn sheff by sheff, to pay his due tithe to the uttermost. This done, to beget in others a detestation, and horror of so great an offence, he caused the ti●he so gathered, forthwith to be fired and consumed to ashes. II. HE LIVED a while in the family of Robert Bioet Bishop of Lincoln, and Alexander his successor, where much against his will, he was honoured with the sacred dignity of Priesthood. From which He is made Priest. time, although before he had followed a very singular, and pious course of life, he bent his endeavours much more exactly to all manner of devotion, and chief to the works of charity and giving of alms; being always so far from all thought of ambition, that he utterly refused to accept a worthy Archdeaconship of the Church of Lincoln, when it was earnestly offered, and almost forced upon He re●useth an Archdeaconship. him. He had a singular inclination and as it were a natural disposition of mind, to help all poor people, but he chief excelled in succouring the female sex, of which he made choice of seven maids, to whom he might more peculiarly show his charitable liberality. These he caused to vow perpetual chastity, and, having before hand had the cowsell, and authority of Alexander Bishop of He instituteth a religio●● o● 〈◊〉. Lincoln, he enclosed them in such sort, that no man could have any access unto them, being only a window left open, by which they received their provision of victuals, which was served in, by some poor women servants, commonly called Lay Sisters: who afterwards were likewise bound to the same monastical vows: Then he provided men servants, whom he appointed for the extern affairs, and husbandry of the monastery, who at length were bound by a solemn vow, to live according to the prescript of the monastical rule of the house. III. THESE holy endeavours of S. GILBERT were worthily entertained with the great applause of the king, and Princes, who for his furtherance therein, gave very large possessions of lands, and goods, Prince's liberality towards him. which he (compelled thereunto) partly received, and partly utterly rejected; left the overmuch abundance of riches should choke the first spring of his pious religion. In the mean time a great company of men, and women flocked together, to embrace this new institution. When he out of his great humility of mind, indging himself unworthy to govern such a pious company, made a journey to the Abbey of Cisterce in France, where Pope Engenius at that He goeth into France. time seiourned, that by his supreme authority, he might get the assistance of some of the Cistercian monks to undertake the charge, & care of his new offspring. The Pope having made a curious, and exact inquiry of him, and his manner of life, and understanding that almighty God had ennobled him, with many admirable works, was much grieved, that he had no sooner notice, & acquaintance with him, that he might have honoured him with the Archiepiscopal dignity of York. And now he judged no man fit than himself (though very unwilling) to whom he might recommend The Pope approveth his endeavours. the pious charge of nourishing, bringing up, enlarging, and governing of his young flock. In this place he fell into the acquaintance of the famous Archbishop of Jreland S. MALACHY, and S. BERNARD Abbot, by whose prudent counsel, being much encouraged in his intended course, he returned into England, and fervently prosecuted his pious beginnings. Then he appointed Priests and other Clergymen of worthy life, and learning, to sing mass, to preach, and minister the holy Sacraments unto the Nuns. These had their lodgings, & dwellings a good distance from the Religious women, nether were they permitted to enter into the monastery, The discipline of ●is monastery. but when it was needful to minister the Sacraments to the sick, and that in presence of many grave witness. Allsoe they were never permitted to see their faces discovered, but always veiled, for the better conserving of religious modesty. A wonderful, and chaste discipline; Whatsoever was to be carried or related, from within, was performed by the voice or hands of two grave ancient Matrons, & for the same use without doors, were deputed two old men, unto whom their grey hairs had taught gravity: and only these four dispatched all their affairs without seeing one & other. Unto the Nuns, he gave the rule of our holy father S. BENEDICT, and to their Clergy the rule of S. AUGUSTIN. Many other particular statutes, according to his own liking, he collected out of the ordinances of other monasteries, all which he exactly set down in writing; which afterwards were established, and confirmed by the authority of Pope Engenius, and others. And the religious of this order were from S. GILBERT their author, called Gilbertines. iv AS he excelled all of his monastery in authority, and dignity, His exact obseruace, and strict manner of life. so likewise went he fare beyond them in strictness of life, and the exact observance of monastical discipline. No man more sparing in his diet, for he always abstayned from flesh, unless some great sickness forced him to the contrary, and in lent, and Advent from fish also, contenting himself only with herbs roots, and such like, as his greatest dainties; in which, as in all other meats, he was so sparing, that it was a wonder to the world how he could keep alive in so great abstinence; when he notwithstanding all this severity was wont often times to complain of eating overmuch. One pious custom he ever observed, which was to have a certain vessel, or platter set on the table in time of dinner, which he called JESUS DISH, into which, not only the relics, but some A pious custom. principal parts of all the meat, were to be reserved for the poor. He never used any silver, or gold plate on his table, but had it decked only with wooden, or earthen dishes, and spoons of horn; and often times sitting thereat, he would season his meat with his own tears, which he shed for his sins, and thinking of the vanity of the world and worldlings. He always wore a hair shirt next unto his skin, which very carefully he concealed from others knowledge. Winter, and summer he used the same , neither more nor fewer, which seldom or never he put of, but took a small allowance of sleep not in any bed but sitting in a chair, that he might be the readier at his awake to fall to his prayer, and meditations. Having governed his troop a long He taketh a religious habit. time, himself remaining in his secular apparel, and not obliged by any vow unto that profession of a monastical life, which he prescribed unto others; lest perchance his successors might take example thereby, he wholly submitted himself under the obedience of one Roger of Sempringham a Canon of the Church of Malton, and received the religious habit, and discipline, which he had taught, and established; being now become of a master a scholar, ever honouring the said Roger (who afterwards succeeded him) as his Tutor and teacher, during the whole remnant of his life. V BUT this holy man (God so ordaining it) escaped not to His subjects accuse him falsely. be assaulted with the rude storms of worldly troubles, and adversities, and that from his own domestics, who according to their duty ought with all reverence to have honoured him more than any others. For amongst the laiety which we spoke of, some there were, who weary of their strict manner of life, maliciously plotted mischief against the holy man, falsely accusing him of many feigned crimes, not only unto THOMAS of Canturburie afterwards a martyr; but even unto Pope ALEXANDER himself, in so much that they greatly disquieted, and molested his peaceable course of life. The Pope committed the examination of this matter, unto Henry Bishop of Winchester, and William of Norwich, who (in the absence of Winchester by reason of sickness) made an exact His innocencio is made Known. inquiry, into the cause, and enquiring found out the truth, and made known the Innocence of S. GILBERT unto the Pope. In whose behalf allsoe many other Bishops, and Priors writ letters to Rome, but none so exactly as the king himself, who took it very heinously that those Lay-brothers, who (as he said) before their profession were mere rustics, and clowns allotted only to the plough, should so perfidiously swerve from that course of life professed by so many learned, and wise men, and that they should unjustly complain of it, as exceeding the due limits of strictness, and severity, and with such impertinent boldness move heaven; and earth for a mitigation thereof. Hereuppon the Pope sent a decree which confirmed the Priveleges granted by his predecessor Eugenius, and Adrian, and also commanded, that the whole order & discipline which GILBERT had prescribed, should remain in the same force, and power for ever: signifying moreover in his peculiar letters unto the King, and Bishops, and to GILBERT himself, that it was his will, that those obstinate fellows should be by strong hand compelled to perform the duty of their profession, and calling. Again he is falsely accused. VI HE was molested which an other, though a smaller blast of adversity, when in the bitter persecution of that worthy bucklar of the Church S. THOMAS of Canturbury, he was brought in with some other of his fellows, as having, contrary to the kings command, sent over monies unto the Bishop in banishment. At London therefore he is cited to appear, with the rest of the Priors, and Procurators of all his monasteries, to answer there this bill of complaint. But the judges, out of the great reverence they bore unto him, offered, that if only by oath he would disaffirme the fault laid to his charge, presently he should be dismissed the court. Which most constantly he refused to do, so that now he could expect nothing but himself to be banished, and all his monasteries to be sacked, and destroyed. When by the king's letters out of Normandy, the judges were commanded to defer the examination of his cause, until his return home. Whereupon the holy man was dismissed; who now set free, and at liberty and taking his leave, openly protested to the judges, that he was most innocent of the fault laid against him. All were much astonished that now he confessed of his own accord, that which before he had refused N 〈…〉 are 〈◊〉. to do being in so great danger, when with the safety both of the truth, and his own shamefastness he might well have performed it. But his mind conducted by a higher counsel, thought it could not choose but be a blemish, and imputation to his own, and the Church's dignity, and an act of bad example, if at the bar in so solemn a contestation he should have openly professed that he had sent no succour, as indeed he had not, unto his Bishop, to whom he supposed himself obliged to have sent. VII. THE pious holy man lived in this sanctity of life above one . hundred years, in which time he founded thirteen monasteries four of men, stored with seven hundred religious persons; & nine of woe men which contained one thousand five hundred Nuns. He died at Sempringham in the year of our lord 1190. the fourth day of February, whose sanctity, although the course of his whole life do sufficiently testify, it pleased almighty god notwithstanding to make it more famous, and manifest unto the world, by wonderful miracles which he wrought by his means, both whilst he enjoyed this mortal life & after his death, or rather departure unto the joys of immortal happiness. For when yet he drew breath amongst men in this world, he had these inferior creatures at command: fire, winds, and diseases after a wonderful manner yielded him obedience. Nether did he want His many miracles. the gift of prophecy, foreseeing by a divine power many adventures which should happen, and especial, when he foretold the end of those horribles broils falling in the time of King Stephen. VIII. AND although indeed these deeds and miracles be famous in number and greatness, yet those which happened after his death do fare excel them in both, for during his life time, he sought by all All disease● miraculously cured at his tomb. means, to suppress and hide his worthy deeds and virtues under the veil of humility; but at his sepulchre the whole world was strucken with admiration, to behold the blind, deaf, dumb, and mad persons restored to their senses, to see dropsies, palsies, fevers and many other desperate diseases beyond the skill of physic cured in a moment & the very devils, to fly out of the bodies of people possessed, exclaiming against the great power of S. GILBERTS sanctity. And lest the vanity of any fiction or invention might any way disparage the truth of these famous accidents, and lest somewhat might be a little hyperbolically spoken of them, they were all called within the arrest of the strict examine & knowledge of witnesses, whose sincere testimony could not without great temereity be excepted against. At which inquiry, besides many other men famous for piety, and learning, Hubert Archbishop of Canturbury was not only present, but Precedent. And having found all the premises to be in truth most clear & manifest, with one voice they all signified so much unto Pope Innocent the third (who before His cano 〈…〉 tion by Pope Innocent. had committed the exact inquiry of this matter unto them) and now being fully informed of the truth, & greatness of S. GILBERTS famous miracles, he enroled him into the number of canonised Saints, in the year 1202. in the reign of King john. The same year the eleventh day of October his body was taken out of the earth & translated into a rich shrine, in which it was kept with great reverence, and devotion. His life is written by John Capgrave, and Nicholas Harpesfield Hist. Ecel. saec. 12. cap. 37. whom we have followed. But it hath been written more at large by some other authors whose names, I Know not. The life of S. INAS King, and confessor, monk of S. benedict's Order. FEB. 6. Out of Nicholas Harpsfield hist. Eccl. saec. ●. cap. 10. INAS descending from the royal stem of Saxon kings succeeded Cedwall in the kingdom of the Westsaxons, about the year of our lord six hundred eighty nine. He was a Prince accomplished with most heroicque virtues of mind, in whom was an equal contention between a rare Knowledge of military, & politic discipline, and a sincere devotion to Christian religion, that being excellent in both it was hard to judge in whether he excelled. He was a lively pattern of fortitude, the true image of prudence, and a virtuous model of religion. With which, and such like virtues, having settled his kingdom in peace both at home, and abroad, he then bent his whole endeavours to the enacting of good, and wholesome laws, to bridle the corrupt, and dissolute manners of his subjects, and to prevent such faults and offences as are more incident unto that age. Amongst others of his laws some were touching the prerogatives, & His good laws and government politic government of the Church, where, a grevous punishment is allotted to such, as do not permit an infant to enjoy the Sacrament of baptism within thirty days; and if by such neglect he chanced to die without baptism, the father of the child incurreth the forfeiture of all his goods. Allsoe a servant that by the command of his master should work on a sunday, was freed from the bondage, or service of his Master, who was taxed over & above with a forfeit of thirty shillings. But if a servant should attempt the same of his own accord, he was to be punished with stripes. Many other good laws were enacted by the prudence of this holy King, whose whole life indeed, was the lively example of his laws. II. FURTHER tokens of his piety, and love to religion, are the monasteries His piety in building Churches. which he so sumptuously founded out of the expenses of his royal Exchequer, and chief the Abbey of Welles, which he built from the ground, & the renowned Abbey of Glastenburie, which most stately he repaired for the monks of S. benedict's order, and dedicated the Church to our Saviour, and S. PETER, and PAUL: It stood in a marish, and fennie place, little commodious for the preservation of bodily health, but very proficuous for Christian philosophers, or monks, who defend, that the happiness of men doth consist chief in the spiritual health of the soul, and that they can with more attention apply their minds unto the contemplation of heavenly things, the more remote they are from the flattering allurements of the eyes of the world. He enriched a chapel in this Church Note what wealth he bestowe●h on Glastebury. with an incomparable wealth of gold, and silver, and gave rich ornaments thereunto of an incredible value considering those times. For the building of the chapel he gave two thousand six hundred forty pound weight of silver; and to the altar, two hundred threescore and four pound weight of gold. A chalice with a patin, ten pound of gold; a Censar eight pound of gold; two candlesticks, twelve pound, and an half of silver; a cover for the Ghospell-booke, or Missal, twenty pound weight of gold; vessels, & cruets for wine, and water to the altar thirty pound weight of gold; an holy-water-pott, twenty pound weight of silver, Pictures of our Saviour, our blessed Lady, and the twelve Apostles, one hundred threescore, and fifteen pound weight of silver, and twenty eight of pure gold; besides what was spent of both kinds, in the embroidery of the copes, vestments, and other ornaments, & a great number of precious gems, & rich jewels embrouched therein. In these, and such, like works of piety he spent his labour, time, & means, following chief in all his doings the holy counsels, & precepts of S. ALDELME a BENEDICTINE Monk, and Bishop of Sherburne, whom he all ways honoured, & reverenced as the father, and spiritual guide of his soul. His wife persuades him to leave the world. III. IN THE mean time, his holy wife Ethelburg, a woman of a royal stock, and of a mind as noble, never ceased daily with a pious importunity to solicit him, that now at lest being well struck in years, and come, as it were, into the winter of his age, he would quit himself of the dangerous encumbrances of this world, & worldly cares, and attend only unto God, and divine matters. But finding (as before) that her words took little or no hold in the King's mind, she (as women never want invention) practised by a plot of pious subtlety to win him to her good desires. And took her opportunity, on a day when the King, in his palace adorned with the glittering splendour of courtly rarities, his table loaden with the pompe of gold & silver plate, had made a royal banquet amongst his Nobles, and lavished out much wealth in great mirth and jollity. On the morrow departing thence, the Queen presently commanded the keeper of his lodgings, to defile, and as much as was possible to deform all that former show of glory Note the subtlety of her inucution. by daubing, & pargeting the walls & floors of the house with the strong-sented plaster which cattle lay behind them, and to furnish the rooms with great store of rubbish & rubble, and all such ill favoured stuff that was most loathsome to the eye: & lastly into the Royal bed, where the King the night before had lain, an ugly sow, that had newly brought forth a litter of pigs, was honourably placed. Being then in the way, when she thought all this to be done according to her command, feigning some business of great weight, & importance, which could not be without great danger omitted, she easily hastened the King's return, for as yet they were scarce a mile in their journey. But entering his chamber of presence, & seeing the place, which but yesterday might be compared with the delights of Sardanapalus himself, so suddenly deformed, & changed into so ugly and horrid a spectacle, he was thunder-stricken with admiration at this unexpected Metamorphose, and stood staggering a while in the consideration thereof: When the Queen, taking her time by the foretop, with a smiling countenance asked him: Wither (said she) my soweraigne lord) is all yesterday glorious splendour vanished? where is all that superfluous riot? What is become of all those curious and exquisite cates sought for by sea, & land, to satisfy the inordinate appetite of gluttony? Where are the gold, and silver vessels which but yesterday made the table bow under their massy weight? Where is all the noise of our loud Thus passeth the glory of the world. mirth and jollity? Is it not vanished, like a blast of wind or a vain puff, of smoke? and do not we that fill ourselves more daintily, & largely, corrupt afterwards more miserably? Behold then the true picture of the glittering vanities, & allurements of the world, & learn at last to shun & fly them. She said no more: When it was strange to see what a deep incision this made in the King's heart, & how much more she had gained by the rudeness of this visible spectacle, then by all her former persuasions, that not without cause the Poet said: Segnius irritant animos demissa per aures, FEB. 7. Horat. de arte Poetica. Quam quae sunt oculis subiecta fidelibus, & quae, Ipse sibi tradit spectator. iv IN SUM this straying Pageant wrought so fare in the good Inas resolveth to forsake the world. King's mind, that now he began seriously to consider with himself of the vanity of worldly state, and finding one what sharp thorns of cares grew the sweet seeming roses of a crown, he put on a strong resolution with himself to bid adieu to the world. And now when he had governed his common wealth with a name of great praise, and prosperity, and shown many benefits thereunto for the space of thirty seven years and odd months, renouncing the resplendent glory of his present and princely estate, he voluntaryly left his temporal Kingdom, which with victory so long he had ruled, and for the love of almighty God, and the gain of his eternal kingdom, he, that heretofore had conquered princes, now got the upper hand and conquest of himself, and with a greater glory than he had borne them he rob himself of the princely spoils of his body, the better to ennoble and enrich his soul. Which that he might more conveniently and fructfully He goeth to Rome. bring to pass; he went to Rome the head of Catholic religion to visit the sacred tombs of the Apostles, under whose protection he hoped more easily to obtain the grace and favour of almighty God, whence his country had first received the Christian faith; resolving to spend the remnant of his life, with a quiet and contented mind, far from all worldly cares and troubles, in a holy convent of Monks. Which with great piety he performed, putting on the habit of a Benedictine monk (unto which order He taketh the habit of S. Benedict. he had ever been a worthy benefactor) not in a public concourse of people (which doubtless would have been great at so unwonted a spectacle) but privately, before God alone, and the Convent of monks: giving hereby a lively example of humility, and true contempt of the world, in not desiring to have this his heroic act of piety any way to redound unto his own glory, out of the vain praises, and false honours of the flattering world. V HE was the first of our English Kings who to show his great His devotion to the Roman Church. devotion unto the Church of Rome, caused the annual tribute called Romescote or Peter-pences to be paid unto the Pope, which was a penny out of ever ie family in England, and was afterwards duly paid for the space of many hundred years: and which is most to be wondered at, no sooner ceased this payment, but our English Church was swallowed up into the gulf of heresy, and together with the temporal, lost all spiritual subjection unto the Vicar of CHRIST upon earth. also this holy King INE built at Rome a Church in honour of our Blessed lady, in which, all English that He built a Church at Rome came thither, might hear mass, and receive the Sacraments, and be buried if need were. With like piety he erected there a school giving yearly annuities thereunto, wherein his Countrymen might And a free-school. be brought up in all manner of good learning, and Christian religion, and discipline. Which seemeth to have been in that place, which now is called the English Hospital, and is inhabited by English Priests, being of no small commodity for the entertainment of Pilgrins which now adays flock thither out of England. VI Now he that in former times had ruled a Kingdom, begun in this sweet school of virtues to find, that in rendering himself subject for The happiness of a religious, life. the love of CHRIST, he enjoyed a greater Kingdom, and that to be master over his one passions, was the only best and truest dominion. Now he had time freely to insist in the meditation of the divine goodness, wherein he found the truth of that versicle of the Royal Psalmist. TASTE, AND SEE, FOR OUR LORD IS SWEET. He found how sweet a thing it was to carry the yoke of our Lord, in the Psalm. 33. 58. continual exercise of patience, humility, and obedience, in which and other pious offices of virtue, and religion, he spent the rest of his mortality, until by the king of Kings, under whose ensign he had served, he was called into the heavenly kingdom, to receive a His happy death. crown of eternal glory, instead of the temporal crown, which for his love he had left. He died a Benedictin Monk at Rome about the year of our Lord 727. and lies buried at the Entrance of the Church of S. PETER, and PAUL as the tables of the same Church do testify. His life me have gathered chiefly out of WILLIAM MALNESRV●IE, de reg. Ang. and NICOLAS HARPFIELD. hist. Eccl. saec. 8. cap. 10. Polidore Virg. lib. 4. Matthew westminster an. 727. Baronius, and all our English Historiographers make very honourable mention of him, and he is highly commended of all, for his wonderful contempt of the world, and love to piety, and relig ion. The life of S. ELFLED Virgin and Abbess of the holy order of S. BENEDICT. FEB. 8. Taken Out of venerable Bede. SAINT ELFLED was daughter unto Oswy King of the Northumber's, who after many cruel invasions of the merciless Penda; was forced to sue unto him for peace with proffers of infinite treasure, and very rich jewels: all which the barbarous Tyrant rejecting, pursued his deadly enterprise, protesting utterly to extinguish him and his country. King Oswy, humane means failing him, had recourse unto a higher power, making a sacred vow unto the almighty god of armies, that he would consecrate his daughter ELFLED to the profession of perpetual chastity, and give twelve V●wes of chastity pleasing unto God. farms with the land thereunto belonging to the erection, and foundation of monasteries, if by his divine assistance, and to his greater honour he should overthrew the insolent pride of his Barbarous enemy. This said, with a heart full of confidence he prepared himself, and his small army for the battle. The number of his adversaries are reported to have redoubled thirty times his, all well repoynted, and old tried soldiers: against whom boldly marched King Oswy, with his son Al●frid. The battle was fought were the river Junet, which at that time overflowed his banks, so that the Victory falling with Oswy, more by flight were drowned in the water, then King Oswy victorious over Penda. slain with the sword. And herein proud Penda paid death his due, with the overthrow of all his Mercian power. This noble victory, being by gods holy assistance so nobly, or rather miraculously won, King Oswy gave infinite thankes unto almighty God, and for performance of his vow made, he delivered his daughter ELFLED, as yet scarce a year old, to be brought up in a monastery of Benedictine nuns, called Heretheu under the pious conduct of S. HILDA; And withal he gave the lands of one hundred and twenty families, for the building and maintaining of monasteries. But two years afterwards, S. HILDA purchased the possession of ten Elfled taketh the habit of S. Benedict. families, and built the monastery of Streanshall, where ELFLED being come to age first received the habit of S. benedict's order; and having been long trained up in this holy school of virtue in the continual exercise of monastical discipline, she afterwards succeeded S. HILDA, being for her holy life chosen Abbess of that place, and became a mistress of virtue unto the whole convent, governing her virgin subjects in the joys of virginity with the care of a motherly piety, and inviting them to the true observance of religion, by the virtuous, and pious example of her own life. II. WHILST thus she ennobled the nobility of her stock, with the greater nobility of virtue, she fell into a grievous sickness, that made her almost taste the bitterness of death's pangs; and when the skill of physic could nothing avail her, suddely by the grace of the She falleth sick. divine physician, she was taken out of the gates of death, and freed from all her inward pains, yet still remained in so great weakness of her limbs, that she could neither stand, nor go, but was forced to creep on all four: in so much that with sorrow she began to fear a perpetual lament, having long since despaired of the physicians help. Till one day sitting pensively in the anguish of her sorrowful thoughts, the great sainctity of S. CUTHBERT whom she loved dearly, came into her mind, and presently, she wished to have something from him, firmly believing, and trusting thereby to receive perfect health. Not long after there comes one which She recovereth by miracle. brought her a linen girdle sent from S. CUTHBERT: She greatly rejoiced with that present, and understanding that her desire was made known by divine revelation unto the holy man, girt herself with the same girdle,, and one the morrow after, she became able to stand on her feet, and the third day, she was restored to perfect health to the great admiration of all. Within a short time after being desirous to communicate to others the great blessing bestowed upon herself, she applied the same girdle unto one of her Nuns, that was almost dead with an insufferable pain which daily increased more & more in her head; but no sooner had this holy Virgin of CHRIST bound her about the temples with that girdle, but the pain ceased & perfect health succeeded. Afterwards B. S. CUTHBERT Bishop of Linsdisfarne came himself in person to visit this holy Virgin, and to consecrate a Church. Where, as the holy man sat at table, he saw in a vision the soul of a servant that died at her monastery at that very time. The holy virgin being desirous to know who it was: to morrow (replied S. CUTHBERT) before I go to mass thou wilt tell me his name. She sent to know, and on the morrow, as the bishop was dedicating the Church, she came running Mass for the dead. to him in a womanish amazement, as if she had brought some great news. I desire you my Lord (said she) to be mindful in your Mass of Hadwald (t'has was his name) who died falling from a tree as he was cutting wood. III. WHEN this most noble, and holy virgin of CHRIST, ELLFED had for many years ruled her monastery in great sanctity, and preserved the sacred treasure of her virginity from her tenderest infancy to the age of threescore years, she delivered up her pure soul to the most happy and long desired marriage of her heavenly spouse, about the year of our Lord 714. She was buried in the Church of the same monastery dedicated to S. PETER, together with her father King Oswy, and Queen Enfleda her mother. But by the Danish fury, that as many other monasteries, was utterly destroyed; till afterwards it was again re-edified for monks of S. benedict's order, and called by the name of Whiteby. And lastly is was translated to the walls of the city of York, and dedicated to our Lady. But after the reign of William conqueror, the sacred relics of S. ELFLED with others, being found amongst those ruins, were honourably placed in a more eminent degree, worthy the merits of so great a saint. Thus much of S. ELFLED we have gathered chief out of S BEDE the gest. lib. 3. c. 24. William malmesbury the gest. Pont. Ang. lib. 3 Matthew Westmin an. 655. NICHOLAS HARPSFIELD hist. Eccl. saec. 7. cap. 27. & other English writers. The life of S. THELIAN Bishop and confessor. FEB. 9 Out of an ancient Author SAINT THELIAN an ancient Britan borne of noble parents ' much more ennobled his stock by the splendour of his virtues. He was Scholar unto Dubricius bishop of Landaff, under whose holy care he attained unto that height of wisdom, & learning, that as yet He was called 〈◊〉, and way? but a youth he obtained the name of Helios, which in Greek signifieth the Sun, for his sacred doctrine shined like the sun, and dispersing the darkness of sin, and infidelity, lightened the hearts of the faithful people of his country, with the sacred beams of true religion, and virtue. But hearing the fame of a prudent and holy man called Paulin he went unto him, and conferred with him concerning the more secret and abstruse places of the holy scripture: where he entered into acquintaince with great S. DAVID Bishop of His love to S. David Menevia, between whom the grace of the holy ghost tied so strict a knot of true love, and friendship, that they were esteemed in those days as a noble pair of friends of one mind and soul. But while they lived together in a delightful and mutual accord of sanctity, certain barbarous people (who either from their painted garments, as from some marks in their eyes were called Picts) landed with a great navy upon the coasts of Britanny, and being taken with a love of the country, set upon the Britain's, more by deceit then force, and for a time, bore a tyrannous sway amongst them. One of their princes murdering the country before him, and burning Churches, and houses at he went, arrived at length near unto Menevia, where he built himself a palace. And perceaving Envy plotteth mischief against him the lives of S. DAVID, and THELIAN to be so holy and so contrary to his proceed he greatly envied them, and spit much of his venom in opprobrious & reproachful speeches against them, whom he could not justly condemn of any fault. And at length to make his malice bring forth the child of wickedness, he commanded his wife to send her maids, and make them the instruments of mischief, by their lewd art, and lascivious allurements and motions of their naked bodies to attempt the overthrow of the holy men's good purposes. But as those wanton things followed their mistress' A just punishment of malice, directions, and in the dishonest execution thereof exercised a kind of feigned frenzy, or madness in presence of the saints, suddenly they became mad indeed, and returned to their commanders without sufficient discourse to relate their own misfortune. Which being seen of that cruel persecutor, turned all his fury into meekness, and both he and his whole family received the faith of CHRIST, and were washed in the sacred font of Baptism. II. NOT long after S. THELIAN together with S. DAVID made a He goeth to Jerusalem, journey to Jerusalem, where they spent some time in continual prayer, and visitation of the sacred places, wherein our dear Saviour wrought the miracles of his bitter passion, and our dear redemption: in those places they were wrapped in holy contemplatlon, that they had no memory or thought of any thing that was in this world. Unto S. THELIAN as he returned home they gave a Cymbal of more worth than greatness, and more precious than it was fair, for the sweet tunes thereof seemed to excel the sound of an organ; it rung at every hour of its own accord. And this was a true figure of S. THELIAN who like unto a cymbal, or bell which raiseth men from the dullness of sleep, and sloth, to praise and serve God in the Church, did he, by his virtues, and holy sermons, stir up By his prayers he expelleth, the plague the hearts of the people unto God, out of the dungeon of sin and wickedness. Being returned prosperously into Wales, by his prayers unto almighty God he freed the people from a cruel plague, which miserably wasted and devoured the country. Afterwards, succeeding Dubritius in the Bishopric of Landaff in that sacred dignity he spent the whole remnant of his life; governing his diocese rather with his sanctity, and example of good life, then by the exercise of his poewr and authority. At length loaden with merits and old age by the happy loss of this fading world, he purchased an everlasting dwelling in heaven, the ninth day of February about the year of our Lord 563. The many Churches in South Wales dedicated to S. THELIAN which to this day retain his memory by the Many Churches dedicated to his name. name of Llanthilo, or Llanthilio, are unresistables witnesses and proofs of his great sanctity, and as yet his praise is fresh in the mouths of all faithful Whelchmen, although the greatest part of that wretched nation do live in such blindness, that they would rather pluck him out of heaven, then do him, or any other of God's Saints any honour at all: contemning herein the counsel of the kingly prophet who inviteth us to praise God in his Saints with Psal. 150. v 1. whom he liveth for ever. Amen. Thus much of this Saint's life we have gathered out of JOANNES ANGLICUS recited by JOHN CAPGRAVE in his legend. and NICOLAS HARPSFIELD saec. 6. cap. 27. The life of S. TRUMWINE Bishop and Confessor of the holy order of S. BENEDICT. FEB. 11. Out of venerable Bede. de gest. An. lib. 4. TRUMWINE a man of very holy life was by Theodore Archbishop of Canturbury ordained Bishop of the Picts then subject to the English; But after the overthrow and death of Egfrid king of the Northumber's caused by the same Picts, S. TRUMWINE together with many other monks of the monastery of Ebbercune in the confines of the Picts, and English, retired himself out of that Province; and having recommended the greatest part of his monks to diverse monasteries according as he was able, he himself chose his habitation at the Monastery of Streanshall, where under the holy rule of S. BENEDICT, with a few of his companion-monks, he led a most strict monastical life, profitable not only to himself, as tending to the height of perfection, but to many others allsoe. The Princely virgin S. ELFLED (of whom the vl of this month) was the Abbess of that monastery, who by the coming, of this holy Bishop received great helps in her regency, and much comfort for the directing of her own life in the way of piety. The place where the Bishop with his monks lived, was separate from the monastery of enclosed Nuns, but not so fare but that they were ready in all occasions, to help them with the sacraments, and all other spiritual comforts of their priestly function and dignity. The most holy Bishop TRUMWINE Hist. l. 4. c. 2●. (as venerable BEDE styles him) having lived there in great holiness of life the space of many years, at length yielded up his Blessed soul to make One in the glorious quire of Benedictin Bishops in heaven. His body was buried in the Church of S. PETER according De gest. Pon. l. 3. §. de Pont. Eborac. to the honour due unto his blessed life, and degree of sacred dignity. His holy relics (saith Malmesburie) together with others were found in the quire of that Monastery, and translated to a more eminent place becoming the sanctity of so great a Saint: Of him make honourable mention, besides the aforesaid authors, Matthew Westminster, Trithemius in his 3. Book of the famous men of S. benedict's order chap. 167. Arnold Wion and all our English historiographers. He flourished about the year of our Lord 700. The life of S. CEDMON confessor and monk of the holy order of S. BENEDICT. FEB. 10. Taken out of We nerable Bede. AS THE divine gifts of tongues, wisdom, learning, and such like wherewith it pleased allmigtie God to furnish his holy Apostles, and adorn the primitive Church, have not been wanting in later ages, so have they not failed in the time when our Englishmen first received the Catholic faith. An abundant, and worthy example hereof we may behold in this holy Benedictin monk CEDMON, He becometh learned by miracle. who out of the rudeness of ignorance, and mere simplicity in matter of learning, by the special grace of God, became so notable and so religious a poet in his mother tongue, that whatsoever he could learn out of the holy scriptures by the help of interpreters, he would presently turn into verse, with such a sweet and moving strain, that by the force thereof, many were oftentimes incited to contemn the world, being thereby inflamed with a pious desire of a heavenly and everlasting life. Many others there were amongst the English which essayed to imitate his holy poetry, but no man was comparable unto him. For he learned not this art by any man's help, but received it gratis by the special gift and grace of the divine goodness. Whence it was that he could not make any frivolous or vanie poem, but such things only which belonged unto piety and religion, could become his religious and godly tongue. He received this divine gui●t upon this occasion. II. WHILST he lived a secular man in the world, which was till he was well struck in years, and was servant to the monastery of Benedictine Nuns of S. HILDA, having never before learned any thing touching either verses, or fing, he chanced to be in a banquet, where for their greater merriment and recreation it was agreed upon by the whole company that every one should sing a song in his course, but CEDMON when FEB. 12. he saw the harp come near him, being guilty of his own ignorance in that quality, arose from the table, and went home to his own house. The like he had practised diverse times, till once it fell out, that going out of the company upon the same occasion, he went into the stable, to take care of the cattle which that night were committed to his charge: where when the time of the night compelled him to give his body to sleep, he beheld as it were in a dream, a man standing by him, that saluted him and called him by his name saying: CEDMON, I pray thee sing me a song. I cannot sing, (answered be,) & He enjoyeth a strange vision. for that cause I forsook my company, & came hither, because I could not sing. But yet (replied the other) thou hast somewhat to sing unto me. What (said he) must I sing? The beginning of all creatures, (answered the other.) At which word presently in praise of God the creator of the word, he began to sing verses which he never had heard before; whereof this is the sense. Now must we praise the author of the heavenly Kingdom, the power of our Creator, his counsel, and wisdom, and the works of the father of glory. How he bring God 〈◊〉 was the author of all miracles, who first created heaven to the children of men for the top of their dwelling, and next, the almighty guardian of He hath the art of singing, & ver●isying by revelation. mankind made the earth, for the floor thereof. At his rising he perfectly remembered whatsoever he had soug in his sleep, whereunto he added afterwards many excellent verses more of the same matter: and coming in the morning to the bailiff of the monastery, who was his master, he revealed unto him the great gift he had received, and being brought to the presence of the Blessed Abbess S. HILDA, he was commanded to relate his dream unto many learned men that were present, and to repeat his verses, that by the general judgement of them all, it might be tried and examined, what it was, and whence that which he reported did proceed. Which done, it seemed unto them all to be most certain that the divine goodness had bestowed some heavenly grace, and gift upon him. And for better trial thereof they expounded unto him the process of a history out of the sacred scripture, commanding him, if he could, to turn that likewise into the shape of true meeter, and verse. He overtooke the task, & brought it admirably well performed against the next morning. Whereupon the Abbess admiring so great a gift in a secular man dealt earnestly with him to forsake the world, and to embrace the monastical habit, and profession of a monk. III. WHO fearing to be ungrateful for those divine benefits, which God so largely, and beyond all hope had bestowed upon him, and that he might the more increase his divine talon by a quiet, and He taketh the habit of S. Benedict. contemplative manner of life, he betook himself to the same monastery of S. HILDA called Sthreanshall, where amongst the other brethren he received the habit of S. benedict's order, and strait, by the commandment of the holy Abbess, he was taught the sacred story of the divine scripture, which he made to run in such sweet lines of meeter, that his masters were glad in that art to become his scholars. He made poems in English of the creation of the world, of the origine of mankind, and of all the other histories and sacred mysteries of both Testaments: and lastly of the terror of the universal judgement, of the horror of hell's dreadful torments, and of the sweetness of the never-dieing joys of heaven. By which, and many other his no less elegant than devout poesies, he reduced many from the downfall of 〈◊〉, and wickedness, to the amendment of their lives, and the divine love of heaven. iv FOR he was a man very religious most free from all counterfeit His religious observance. colour of vanity, and with a sincere plainness, and humble simplicity (the chief arms of the Benedictin order) wholly subject unto the rules of regular, & monastical discipline: but inflamed with a pious zeal of great fervour against those, that did any way seem to disobey the good order of the monastery. When it came pass that the almighty ruler of life, and death, gave him the grace to finish the course of his godly life, with an end worthy so great sanctity. For the hour of his death being at hand, fourteen days before he was visited with a corporal disease, by which, although it were very moderate and gentle, he foretold his neere-ensuing end. And therefore the night before he departed he desired to have a bed provided him in the infirmary, which was a place for such only as were in a mortal disease. The brother that attended him, wondering why he, that seemed to have no more signs of death in him should desire such a remooue, obeyed his will, although he judged it to little or no purpose. Being placed in the infirmary, when together with those that were there before, the time was spent in merry discourse till after midnight, CEDMON on the sudden, demanded if the holy sacramet The blessed acramen. reserved for the sick. of the EUCHARIST were within; You that are so merry) answered they) need not so to hasten to the sacrament, for death cannot lay hold on a heart so joyful and lusty as yours yet seems to be. Again he instantly desired to have the holy sacrament: Which being brought, before he would receive it, he humbly desired pardon of all his brethren if in any thing he had offended them, and imparted the like courtesy unto them, earnestly craving it of him; and then with great reverence, fortifieing himself with that heavenly Viaticum, he prepared his pious soul to enter into the happy voyage of everlasting life. V THIS done, he asked the assistants how long it was to the hour that the Monks should rise to Matins. They answered, that the time was not fare of. Well then (said he) let us quietly expect that Blessing with the sign of the Cross. good hour. And within a while, when the standers by nothing suspected his death, arming himself with the sign of the holy cross (the only sign of our redemption) and softly inclining his head upon the pillow, he took a sweet slumber, and therewithal in great His death correspondent to his life. silence, and tranquillity both of mind, and body, he delivered up his still soul into the hands of his redeemer. So that by the divine providence it came to pass, that even as he served our Lord in his life time, with a pure, and quiet devotion of mind, so leaving this world, he went to enjoy the clear vision of him he had served, by a peaceable, and untroubled death. And that elegant tongue which had sung so many sweet lines, & poems in praise of his creator, did close up the breath of his last words to gods honour & glory, when blessing himself with the sign of life, & recommending his soul into the hands of his dear redeemer, he changed this temorall life for an eternal. He died about the year of our Lord 670. After the time of King William conqueror, his body was found among the ruins of the monastery of Streanshall, and honourably shrined, & set up in a Invention of his body. place worthy so great a relic, where the many miracles wrought through his merits are evident witnesses of what high esteem he was in the favour of almighty God, who is ever gloriousi n his saints. Amen. His life we have gathered out of Venerable Bede de gest. Ang. lib. 4. cap. 24. Nicholas Harpsfield saec. 7. cap. 36. William Malmesbury de gest. pont. Aug. lib. 3. Arnould Wion l. 2. cap. 62. and other grau● authors make honourable mention of him. And be is highly commended of all, for his great virtue, and holy life, and conversation. The life of S. ERMENILD Queen, and Abbess of the holy order of S. BENEDICT. FEB. 13. Gathered out of diverse Authors. SAINT ERMENILD was daughter to Erconbert King of Kent, and S. SEXBURG his queen: naturally and from the womb, she inherited her good mother's propension to works of piety, compassion, and relieving of every one's necessity. Both mother, and daughter used the same bounty, and charity towards all, and being both queens on earth, they had both the same pious desires, and affections to the King and kingdom of heaven. ERMENILD was given in mapiage unto Wulfere King of the Mercians, and by that means the kingdom of Kent was happily united to that of the Mercians. At that time, her husband Wulfere being but newly baptised, his people were but rude, and scarce well settled in the Catholic faith, but S. ERMENILD, who had been trained up from her infancy in true virtue, piety, and religion, with her care, and singular example of holy life, her wise, and prudent exhortations, and many benefits liberally bestowed upon them, tamed the obstinate hearts, of that rude, and unlearned people, and brought them under the sweet yoke of JESUS CHRIST, by a mild force, and a forceble mildness, subduing those perverse & rebellious minds, to the obedience of the Catholic Church. II. SUCH and so great was the fervour, & zeal of this holy woman to the service, & honour of almighty God, & propagation of Christian religion, that she was wholly careless of all other affairs in respect thereof, never ceasing until she had quite destroyed Idols, rooted out all the devilish rites of Idolatry, and furnished her Kingdom with churches, & Priests for the comfort, & salvation of her people whom in the end she accustomed diligently to frequent the divine services and sacraments, and all other duties of Christian piety, and devotion. And this her godly zeal was much promoted by the royal power and authority of the king her husband, who invited by her pious example, much advanced her good endeavours, and did many good works himself, admiring to see the whole intentions & mind, of his wife amongst the turbulent broils of the world, to be always so truly fixed on the contemplation of heaven, and heavenly things. Besides she did abound in charity, and compassion towards the poor, & all such as were in necessity, and affliction, in so much that never any came to her that departed without consolation, and her liberal alms, to relieve their want. III. AT length after the death of her husband, with whom she had She taketh the habit of S. benedict's order. lived seaventeen years, and been mother of S. WEREBURG, (whose life you may read the third of this month) having hither unto overcome all others, she now overcame herself; for going to the monastery of Benedictin Nuns at Ely, she renounced all mortal pomp and glory, for the pure love of the immortal, and put on the habit of S. BEMEDICTS order, under the government of her holy mother S. SEXBURG then Abbess of the same place: Where by humility and obedience she became queen of her own passions, and spent the remnant of her life in continual fasting, and prayer, and all other austerities of a virtuous and religious life. And after the death of the Abbess S. SEXBURG, S. ERMENILD was chosen in her place, in which office whilst she discharged the duty of a very religious & virtuous Matron, inciting her subjects by her own good examples to embrace the rules of true religion, she was delivered out of this mortal prison, and called to receive the everlasting reward of her labours in heaven; the thirteenth day of February about the year of our Lord 685. and was buried in the same monastery. Where, after her death, it pleased almighty God for the honour, and glory of this saint, to work many miracles at her tomb. Whereof one was, that a Saxon condemned for some offence to be bound with iron chains, or rings, being on a time present at Mass in the monastery of Elie, and as he prayed before the body of S. ERMENILD, about the time the gospel was reading, his irons, forced by some secret, and divine power, fell suddenly from his arms, to the great admiration of many that were present at the said mass. Her life we have gathered out of joannes Anglicus recited by john Capgrave, William Malmesbury de gest. reg. Angl. lib. 2. cap. 13. & de gest. pontiff. lib. 4. Matthew Wistminster anno. 676. and Wigorniensis an. 675. mention is made of her by Molanus in his additions to Vsuard, Peter, in his catalogue of saints, Arnold Wion in his Martirologe, and many others. Of the translation of S. EDWARD King, and Martyr. FEB. 18. Out of the Author of his life recited by Surius. THE body of glorious King EDWARD the martyr, when he had suffered a most unjust death by the malicious and wicked tyranny of his stepmother Alfrith, was by her commandment most ignobly buried & hidden in a watery marsh, or fen near Warrhan, hoping thereby to blot out all memory both of him, and her own impiety. But within the compass of a year, the high allseer and overseer of men actions determining to make his Martyr famous to the world, and to make known of how great merit he was in his sight, voutchased to reveal unto some faithful Christians that devoutly sought it, the place where that worthy relic was unworthily A Pillar of light ap peareth over his body. concealed. For a pillar of light sent from heaven appeared over that part of the marsh were the body lay, & filled a great piece of the ground near adjoining with the glittering beams of a glorious and heavenly lustre. This being perceived by many devout men of the next village (for it appeared oftentimes) they met together, & having by diligent searching found that sacred treasure, they carried, it into the village of Warrham. Great was the concourse of people pitifully bewailing the death of their most pious King, and faithful protector; and in the noise of these lamentations the venerable body was transported into the Church of our Blessed Lady in the same town, and buried on the East side thereof, with great reverence, the thirteenth day of February; and over his sepulchre some devout persons built a little which remained there a S Edwards Well cureth diseases. long time after. But out of the place where he had laid before, there sprung up a fountain of most sweet, and pure water which was called S. Edward's well, by virtue whereof many sick persons to the greater glory of CHRIST and his martyr received afterwards the wished benefit of their health. II. But now by the trumpet of flying fame, the impious deceit of Queen Alsrith was diwlged all over England, the innocence of the murdered King and his virtues, and high deserts were by the general acclamation of all extolled to the skies. The news arrived at length to the ears of Duke Alferus, who (although heretofore he stood for the Queen against his King and together with her had much wronged and grieved the monks in destroyeing many of their monasteries) yet now being willing to do some satisfaction for his Duke Alfere prepareth for his translation. faults past, and to show at left his faithful service unto the dead body of his master whom alive he had nor honoured as his duty required, he determined to translate his holy relics into a more honourable place, and to that end he exhorted the Bishops, abbots and other peers of the realm as many as he could draw to his side to lay their helping hands to his pious endeavours. He sent likewise a messenger unto the Benedictin Nuns at Wilton in Wiltshire, where holy EDITH Kings EDWARD'S sister at that time, led a religious life, earnestly entreating Wilfred the Abbess thereof with her devout Convent of Virgins, not to be wanting at the exequys of so holy a King. Hereuppon the bishops, abbotts, and many others meeting together, with great care, and reverence, Duke Alferns having gathered a huge multitude of men and women out of Dorsetshire, came with great devotion to Warrham, where that royal body His body is found uncorrupted. was but poorly buried: And in presence of the company his sepulchre being opened, the body (which had lain there for the space of three years) was found to be as entier, and whole from all corruption, as if it had been buried but the same day. Which being perceived by the bishops, and the whole multitude, with one voice they sung hymns, and praises unto allmigthie God, who by so manifest a token had declared, and brought to light the innocence, and worth of his holy martyr. But saint EDITH his sister being no longer S. Edith his sister. able to contain the pious love of her brother within the limits of her virgin-breast, ran to his dead body, and falling down on her knees, clipped it with her loving embracements, honoured it with her religious kisses, washing his seeming-lively race with the streams of her joyful tears, as one not able to be satiated with that so great glory of her glorious brother. But then by the hands of some venerable and reverend men, these sacred spoils were lifted up, and carried with great reverence, and the wonderful gratulation of the Clergy, & people, to the famous monastery of Benedictin Nuns, at Shaftesburie in Dorsetshire, which King Elfred father to S. EDWARD'S great grandfather, for love of his daughter Ailene who became a nun there, had erected and enriched with very ample gifts, and possessions. III. In the mean time being yet in their journey with that sacred treasure, many persons of both sexes flocked thither, and among the rest two poor creatures (whose sinews were so shrunk, and contracted that with great difficulty they were able to creep along the ground upon their hands, and thighs) came to pray unto Two Cripples cured at his body. almighty God, and S. EDWARD, for the recovery of their limbs: and drawing near unto the holy bier, the bearers thereof stayed, to give them licence to touch it and do reverence unto it; when on a sudden, to the great admiration of that infinity of beholders, they were both restored to perfect health, and received a full cure and recovery of their long unserviceable limbs. Great was then the joyful acclamations of the people, that highly extolled the merits and praises of S. EDWARD, till the news and noise of these miracles came to the ears of the Queen his murderess, who thereby touched to the heart with a sudden compunction and sorrow for her wickedness committed, presently mounted on horseback and began her journey towards the sacred body, with intention to beg pardon for her offence. But her sudden haste received as sudden a stop by the way, for her horse, that at other times was Behold à straying miracle. wont to run away with his load as swiftly as the wind, by the beck of the divine providence stood stock still, whilst her servants earnestprovoked the unwilling beast with sharp whips, & threatening cries, but all in vain, for he seemed most unsensible of both. She blaming her horse as being tired, caused a fresh one to be provided, which in like manner refused to carry the author of so foul a murder. Till at length her brutish heart understood what this unusual accident might portend, and therefore by the means of a third person she performed this intended visitation, which her own un worthiness could not personally effect. iv The holy body being brought to Shaftsburie, which was the place destined to be the sacristie of so rich a treasure, it was received by those holy virgins of CHRIST in most honourable, and stately manner, and reverently entombed on the north side of the high His body is eushrined at Shaftsburie. altar the eighteenth day of February. And afterwards, by reason of the many miracles wrought at this holy martyrs tomb, that monastery was commonly called S. Edward's. And the miracles wrought there, were such, so great, and so authentical esteemed by King Ethelred, that in respect thereof he adorned the monastery of Shaftsbury with many rich gifts and possessions, and in the donation thereof, made in the year 1001. he acknowledgeth God's scourging of his Country by the Danes to have befallen them for the unjust murder of King EDWARD: whom, together with the bishops and Abbots of that time he honoureth with the title of Blessed martyr. Part of his relics were afterwards brought to enrich the monastery of Lemster in Herefordshire. This history we have gathered out of the author of his life in an aunciët manuscript recited by Surius tom. 3. William Malmesbury de reg. Ang. lib. 2. cap. 9 john Capgrave in his legend. Nicholas Harpsfield saec. 10. cap. 4. and other English Historiographers, who do all largely speak his praises. The life of S. VLFRICK Confessor, and Hermit. FEBR. 20 THE worthy champion, and brave follower of a monastical, and solitary life S. Vlfrick, was borne in a village called Lenton, or Litton, eight miles from Bristol, of a mean, yet an honest parentage. In the same place he was bred, and brought up till he came to such age, and learning, that he was made priest. Which office he exercised His manner of life in his youth. for some year's space, having (as it was thought) received it in the fervour of his youth, more out of a youthful levity incident to that age, than any way guided by the raynes of true reason. For as yet being not well acquainted with the true spiritual knowledge of almighty God, he was ruled more by the impetuous motions of worldly pleasures, and delights, then by the inward inspiration of the soul. Whece it came to pass that he stuck not to stain his priestly function, by daily employing of himself in the gentleman's slavery of keeping hawks, and Dogs, and following the toilsome sports those dumb beasts could allow him, when he had better, and more befitting his calling, been quietly busied in study, and contemplation. But being on a time in hit pursuit of this A poor man foretelleth him of his future life. kind of a game, he met by chance with a man that bore the habit, and countenance of a poor beggar, who very humbly demanded for an alms a piece of new money, which as yet, by reason of the newness of the coin coming out of the mint of Henry the first, was not very common in England. Therefore VLFRICK answered him, that he knew not whether he had any of that Kind or Noah. Look in thy purse (replied the other) and there thou shalt find two pence halfpennie. VLFRICK being amazed at this answer, opened his purse and finding as the poor man had said, he devoutly gave him what he asked. Who receiving his penny; let him reward thee (said he) for whose love thou givest it. And I in his name declare unto thee, that shortly thou shalt departed from this place where now thou livest, unto an other dwelling, & thence again to another, where thou shalt, find a quiet habitation, till after long perseverance in the service of god, thou art called to enjoy the joyful society of the saints in heaven. II. VLFRICK therefore after a while, lived like a poor Priest in He abstaineth from flesh. the house of one William Lord of the village where he was borne, & had his diet daily at his table, where he laid the first foundation of a new life, and entered into a perpetual abstinence, from flesh. Till at length, his good purposes, and devotion still increasing, he was greatly taken with an earnest desire to embrace an eremitical, and solitary life, and to that end the foresaid Lord, doubtless not without the particular inspiration of the holy Ghost, sent him to a village called Hasleburrow in Dorsetshire, distant eastward from Excester His austerity of life about thirty miles. There in a little cell near adjoining unto the Church, setting aside all thoughts savouring of the world, with great austerity, and mortification of his body, he purchased the grace, and favour of JESUS CHRIST to his soul. For with such an exact and severe an observance of abstinence, fasting, and watching he mortified his body upon earth, that the skin only sticking unto the bones, he appeared unto the behoulders as the true picture not of a carnal, but of a spiritual man, in a humane shape. His daintiest His poor diet, and clothing. meat was oaten bread and a kind of gruel, or pottage made of oatmeal. He never drank wine or any other drinks which cause drunkenness, but only on principal feasts, and then he would taste a little, more for the solemnity of the feast, than any contentment of body. In watching he was so diligent, and unwearied, that he passed many nights without any sleep, neither would he ever give himself to any rest but when extreme necessity, and weakness of nature compelled him: and then not in bed, but leaning his head to a wall, he took a short allowance of sleep, out of which presently rousing himself, he would much blame, & chastise his body, as yielding unto overmuch niceness. His pillow (if that may be called so) which he used to put under his head was made of rolls, or ropes of hay wound up together. He was content with poor simple clothing, lined next to the skin with a rude shirt of haircloth. Till after a while, being grown from a freshman to be an old beaten soldier of Christ, instead of his haircloth, he wore next unto his skin, an iron coat of mail, which his old lord, and master, understanding his desire thereof, had sent unto him, consecrating that warlike armour His mortification of body. to the warrefarre of heaven. To these his daily austerities, he added others by night, fare exceeding them in rigour, for in the sharpest cold of winter, he was wont, having first put of his iron coat, to entire naked into a vessel of cold matter, where he would remain reciting psalms & hymns in praise of almighty God, until he had throughly mortified and quenched those dishonest fires, & importune motions of the flesh, which very furiously and often assailing his mind, sought the ruin of his chastity: but his breast was a firm rock of pure marble that utterly denied entertainment to any such uncleanness. And in all this rigour so unmercifully exercised upon himself, both in discourse and behaviour, he was ever humble, and pleasant unto all others, and although he seldom or never spoke to any man, but unseen, and with his window shut, yet his sweet speeches yielded the sound of a kind of heavenly harmony to the ears of his hearers. The fame of his sancti●ie is discovered III. WHILST thus the holy man exercised himself in the discipline of a rigid-devout life, known only to the alseeing deity, he broke forth at length to the knowledge of the world, like a fair morning of good health, and happiness unto his country. For his coat of mail hanging down somewhat below his knees, with the rudeness thereof hindered him to kneel at such times and so often as he desired: whereof having admonished the knight his old master, who was only privy to this secret, he demanded his counsel therein. The knight would have persuaded him to send it to London to be cut according to his desire: But he being impatient of such delay, and fearing thereby to lay open a gate to vain gloire gave him a pair of shears, and bade him in the name of God dispatch that work with his own hands. The knight staggering in his obedience, and judging it to be dotage in the holy man that set him on a task (as he thought) quite impossible, knew not what to say. Be constant (replied VLFRICK) and fear nothing, behold I go to recommend this business unto God, in the mean time endeavour confidently to finish this work. The one falls to his prayers, the other endeavours with iron and steel to cut iron, and steel: when both their labours took prosperous effect, to the admiration of the one, & great joy of the other. For the knight Note a straying miracle. in his cutting work seemed rather to divide a piece of cloth, than a piece of iron, with so great facility the shears ran through that steely garment. But the holy man rising from his prayers before the work was finished, the knight was forced to hold his hands; when VLFRICK coming to the window where he laboured, & ask how he had succeeded in his business; Well, and prosperously (said he) hitherunto, but now at thy coming, the shears turn edge, & are at a stay. Be not moved thereat (replied the saint) but with the same shears, finish thy work so happily begun. Then resuming his former confidence, with the like facility he went through the rest. And from that time, the holy man in the strength of his own faith, without any shears, pulled asunder the little rings of that part of his coat cut off, & distributed them charitably to all that desired, by virtue whereof many The parcels of his coat cure many diseases. diseases were cured, according as it is recorded of the chains of the holy Apostles, PETER, and PAUL and many other Martyrs. But the Knight much amazed at so great virtue, sell prostrate, at the holy man's feet, whereat greatly confounded he lifted him up, conjuring him not to reveal that miracle as long as he lived. But the fame thereof grew so famous; that it could not be hidden, when many religious, & devout persons were glad to enjoy a ring of his iron coat, whereby the glory and sweet odour of his sanctity was blown over all parts of the Kingdom. iv WHILST our worthy champion of CHRIST thus nobly The devils raise war against him. fortified his mind with the armour of a generous virtue & shown so great confidence in almighty God, and such incomparable rigour in chastising and afflicting his own body, and beating down the dishonest rebellions thereof, the common plotter, and worker of all mischief to mankind, greatly enuieing such rare goodness, assailed him on all sides with wonderful troubles, rude vexations, and almost mortal torments, not inferior to those raised against S. HILLARION S. ATHONIE, and other ancient Hermit's, to batter, and beat down the constancy of his virtuous mind and resolution. Once those infernal spirits appearing visibly in most horrid shapes, with violence dragged him into the Church, and round about the pavement thereof in great fury, till by the unexpected coming of a most reverend Virgin, he was relieved out of the hands of those hellhounds, whom she chased suddenly away. He understood afterwards that this was a holy Virgin, of whom he● had made a commemoration in his Mass the same day. An other time the holy man being sick, his ordinary enemy entered into the room where he lay, and casting a terrible look upon him, with a staff he had in his hand gave him three great blows on the head, and departed. And further it pleased almighty God to give the Devil so great power over his body, that like an other job, he infected his flesh with such horrid ulcers, that his arms, quite up to the shoulders, became a loathesom spectacle, rotten, and full of ugly His wonderful patience worms, and corruption. All which as visitations sent from God, he endured with infinite great patience, and joy, ever yielding humble thankes unto his divine goodness, that gave him so fair an occasion of merit in this world. He was no sooner recovered of this straying malady, but the same engine of mischief cast his body into such an intolerable, but invisible heat of fire, in so much that he called for a Priest, and began to recommend his soul unto his creator, till after a while, that hellish tormenter changed that intolerable heat, into a contrary cold so insufferable, that every minute he expected with patience the disuniting of his soul from He overcometh the vexations of the devil. his body. But he triumphed over all these hellish afflictions, and diabolical temptations, in the approved armour of an undaunted patience of mind, and made all these occasions but steps to climb the height of virtue, and perfection by. V ONE Easter eve at night, the hellish spirit of uncleanness having cast the holy man into a deep sleep, by a filthy dream, and illusion, albeit in a body dry, and half dead, triumphed over the frailty of his flesh, and caused him to suffer some such uncleanness, as the weakness of man's nature is subject unto in those occasions: where upon he became so overthrown with grief, and sorrow of See a wonderful example of humility. mind, that he pined away at his disastrous chance. And on the morrow morning being Easter day, he went into the Church, where publicly before all the people present at that holy solemnity, he made open confession of what had befallen him, and burst out into a miserable complaint of his mischance. And woe be unto me wretched VLFRICK, (said he) whom mine enemies, in revenge of my sins, have this sacred night so filthyly disgraced, so unhappily deluded, and so vilely everthrowne. I confess my offence unto God, and to you all, desiring, and hoping to obtain pardon from his divine goodness, by your good prayers, and intercession. Having in these and such like words proclaimed his misfortune, he returned sorrowful to his cell. Which his wonderful dejection, and humility of mind, wherein he nether spared his own shamefastness, nor the diminishing of that renowned opinion of sanctity, which be had gotten in the world, nor despised others in respect of such virtue, seemeth by many degrees to excel both the wonder of his coat of mail, and whatsoever else in him (as truly there are very many things worthy great praise, and admiration) was most notable, and famous, And as almighty God sent him these sharp visitations to make trial of his constancy, so on the other side his divine goodness did so highly comfort him with heavenly benefits, gifts, and graces of prophefieing, and doing many wonderful cures, and ennobled his worthy patience with such renowned triumphs against his infernal enemies, that he might truly Psal. 9 3. 19 with the royal prophet say of himself: According to the multitude of my griefs, thy consolations have rejoiced my soul. VI FOR HE changed water into wine; and by his holy benediction he increased and multiplied one little loaf of bread to so His many miracles. great a quantity, that he satisfied forty poor people there with. The water which he hallowed cured very many dangerous diseases. He restored light, and perfect sight unto one whose eyes were digged out of his head. He saw many things that were done in fare distant places, as distinctly as if they had passed within the command of his corporal sight. And often times he foretold things to come, and namely to King Henry the first, setting forth in his last journey to Normandy, that he should never more return. And in the King's absence he revealed unto the Lord of the village the very day of the king's death. And count Stephen coming upon a time unto the holy man, he saluted him as king, to the great admiration of all that heard it; and ingenuously told him that he should be soweraigne Lord of England, giving him pious admonitions carefully to maintain peace, and justice, and defend the rights of God's Church. VII. WHAT now shall I say, that the holy Angels, yea and the king of angels CHRIST JESUS have appeared unto him, and comforted his habitation in this world with the heavenly and unspeakable splendour of their presence. And being on a time at the altar executing that dreadful sacrifice of Mass, having past the Pater noster, The wine in his chalice appeareth in form of blood. being suddenly stricken with a doubt whether he had mingled (as the custom is) water with his wine, or not, & having desired almighty God to free him from that scruple; behold the chalice appeared unto him full to the very brim of fresh rosy blood, which the unspotted lamb, shed for our redemption: and returning strait again to the form of wine he devoutly consummated, that heavenly draught. And albeit sometimes by the permission of almighty God, to try his servant, he was (as we have said) cruelly deluded, vexed, and tormented by the mischievous envy of hell's inhabitans, yet many times he triumphed most nobly over them and their diabolical practices: When by his holy prayers he not only banished them out of the bodies of possessed persons, but sometimes held them so fast bound, that they could not departed but by his licence. But of all that ever he did in that kind, this which A poor ma giveth his soul to the devil. now you shall hear was the most notably famous. VIII. IN THE North parts of England dwelled a mice rably-wretched man, who not able to endure the poverty of his own fortune, had renounced the Christian Catholic faith, and in a horrid covenant had wholly consecrated, and bequeathed himself to the Devil: who having for a time sat abroad upon that prey, to hatch his soul for hell fire, the wretched man coming a little to understand his more than miserable estate, began to be ashamed, and repent him of this horrible act, deliberating, & debating with himself, to what Patron, or protection he should commit the care of delivering his engaged soul out of the jaws of eternal death. Till at length having heard the great fame of S. VLFRICKS' holy life, he resolved to make use of his counsel in this weighty affair: and being very solicitous of his good success herein, and having opened his mind to one of his nearest, and dearest friends, the devil with whom he had made this hard bargain, appeared to him in his known, and accustomed shape, and with show of extreme unkindness, accused him of disloyalty, and threatened him with most cruel punishment if he dared but to attempt any such treason again. The poor man, The devil knoweth not the secrets of man's heart perceaving that this hellish merchant had no knowledge of the intentions of his heart, till by word of mouth he had revealed them unto his friend from that time kept close his good purposes under the veil of silence, and meaning (as the proverb says) to cousin the old (ourtier he) dissembled for a while his intended penance; till at length, when he thought his enemy sleeped, he entered into his journey towards S. VLFRICK, wherein he had prosperous success, till he came near unto the Village of Haslebury, where entering the ford of the river that ran thereby, with great hope to receive help from the holy man, his ancient enemy the devil suddenly laid violent hands upon him bellowing in his ears with a hellish, fury and anger, such rude and rough speeches, that struck terror into the poor man: O thou traitor, (said he) what meanest thou to do? In vain thou endeavourest to break off our former bargain, for as well for they first treason in revouncing God, as now for seeking to renounce me, to whom thou belongest, thou shalt presently suffer a just punishment in this water. And withal he held him so fast in the midst of the river, that he could neither stir forward nor backward. In the mean time S. VLFRICK, who had a revelation of all this passage, called his Priest unto him, and bade him presently take the cross and holy The virtue of holy waer. water in his hands, and make great haste to secure a poor man whom the devil held captive in the river at the town's end. Who speedily obeying his command, ran thither, and found, (as the holy man had foretold,) a man sitting an horseback in the midst of the river not able to move, on whom presently in the name of JESUS CHRIST, and in virtue of his master having cast some of his holy water, he redeemed the prey, and patt the thief to flight. This done he returned with joy to S. VLFRICK together with the poor man, whose company the devil being very unwilling to lose, followed after his late prey, and seeing him stand before the holy man, he said fast hold on him, who cried mainly out, to the servant of god for succour. Then S. VIFRICK taking him by the right hand, He freeth one given to the devil. the devil was so bold as to shake him by the left, striving as much as he was able to draw him away with him, till the Saint throwing with his other hand some of the holy water, which himself had blessed against that ugly fiend, he driven him away from the house with great confusion. And then leading the poor man, newly redeemed out of the jaws of death, quaking, and trembling with fear into his inner cell, he disposed his soul with good instructions for Auricular con●ession. the better receiving of the sacrament of peanance. Which done, the poor man falling down on his knees before the holy Saint, proclaimed himself guilty at the sacred bar of confession, by which he clearly purged his conscience from all the infectious venon which the devil had planted therein, and having received his absolution pronounced by the mouth of S. VLFRICK, he desired likewise, to communicate the blessed sacrament of the Altar at his hands. Who holding that dreadful mystery before his face at the Altar, demanded if he did truly, & sincerely believe the body of CHRIST to be really under that form of bread. I do believe, & confess it (said he) for, (wretched sinner that I am) I see the body of my lord JESUS in thy hands, in the true form of flesh. God be for ever praised, (replied Behold the ●eall presence in the sacrament. the holy man:) and presently at his prayers the sacred Eucharist returning to the usual form of bread, he gave it the poor man, who from this time forwards was ever free, from the burden of that diabolical yoke and from all trouble, and vexation of those hellish monsters. IX. A PIOUS woman on a time sent three loaves of bread unto S. VLFRICK, by a messenger, who hide one by the way, and delivered Note a rare miracle. the other two only; but going back, he found his loaf to be changed into a stone so hard, that his iron and steel turned edge as he endeavoured to cut it asunder. But that hardness melted his heart with sorrow, for returning in great haste to S. VLFRICK, he discoured this straying accident, humbly desiring pardon of his temerarious offence. Who not only forgave him, but making the sign of the cross upon that stonnie bread, he broke it with great facility, and giving part thereof unto the messenger, sent him away greatly edified to have seen such virtue. X. A GREAT noble man of king Henry's court having heard of the A Nobleman punished by God for detracting S. Vlfrik. fame of S. VLFRICK, said that the King might do well to send some officers to the Cell of that crafty seducer, to take away his money, whereof he could not but have great store such a mighty concourse of people daily flocked unto him. These words were no sooner spoken, but by his divine power who is ever zealous in behalf of his saints, the mouth of that rash man was writhe and stretched to his ears, and he himself dashed violently against the ground, where he lay for a time sprawling, and foaming in misery. The king upon this occasion, went to the holy man's poor habitation, and carefully recommending himself unto his devout prayers, earnestly petitioned withal for the noble man. I impute not this sin unto him (replied the Saint) but do hearty desire that he may have pardon at the hands of almighty God, being myself, in the mean time, most ready to do whatsoever is convenient for me. And at the same instant, one of the standers by took the holy Saint by the hand, and applying it to the face of a sick person there present, restored him to perfect health with the only touch of those holy fingers. XI. THIS Blessed Saint (as you have heard before) prophesied unto His gift of prophecy. count Stephen, than a private man, that he should be owner of the realm of England; during whose reign, many warlike commotions, & troubles molested the common peace, all which likewise S. VLFRICK foretold, unto the lord of his village, as allsoe of the captivity of the same King, and of his delivery. At length, King Stephen coming to his cell on a time, the holy man after many zealous rebukes, and profiteable exhortations foretold him among other things, that he should reign during his life time, admonishing him by all means to do worthy penance for the same, for otherwise he should never enjoy either surety in his Kingdom, or peace from those rude broils, which to his cost, he had long experienced. Whereupon King Stephen confesseth to S. Vlfrick. the King, with tears trickling down his cheeks, witnessed the inward sorrow of his mind, and making a sincere confession of that sin, willingly performed the penance, which the prophetical Saint enjoined him. See the wonderful force of God's grace, that giveth power to a poor silly creature, to make the stubborn hearts of kings to relent, and return from the wild deserts of iniquity to the direct high way of justice. I can never too often repeat that saying of the prophet; God is wonderful in his saints. XII. ABOUT a year before his death, sitting one day in his cell Psal. 67. v. 38. the joints of his iron coat miraculously dissolved, and it fell down to his knees, which he presently took up, and fastened again about his shoulders with more strong stays. And his whole body, which before seemed to imitate iron in hardness, began to swell with little blisters, and plainly to show it was but flesh; so that his coat and his flesh with a like token foreshowed the time of his warfare in this world to draw near to an end. Therefore after a while he called his priest unto him, and told him that the hour of his departure was at hand, for the next saturday (said he) I must provide myself for my last and happiest journey, which so long I have desired. And in the very hour which he foretold, joining and directing his hands and eyes towards heaven whither he was going, he delivered up his blessed soul out of the thraldom of this world He foretelleth the time of his death. to the never dieing joys of heaven: the twentith day of February in the year of our Lord 1154. shortly after the coronation of Henry, the second King of that name in England. His life is written by joannes Anglicus or john Capgrave, Matthew Paris in Henrico 2. fol. 88 and Nicholas Harpsfield saec. 12. cap. 29. out of whom we have gathered this present history. Henry Huntingdon, and other English Historiographers make honourable mention of him. depiction of Saint Milburga S. MILBURGA FILIA MERWALDI REGIS IN ANGLI●… Virgo ac Abbatissa Ordinis. S. Benedicti. Feb. 2 3. M●●●…. The life of S. MILBURG virgin and Abbess of the holy order of S. BENEDICT. FEBR. 23 Written by Gotzeline monk. ETHELBERT king of Kent, and the first of our English kings that received the Christian faith, was S. MILBURGS' great grandfathers father, she was daughter to Merwald king of the Mercians, and his queen Dompne●e, by some called Ermenburg. Milburg therefore Her royal pa●●nts. inheriting the royal splendour of two princely kingdoms, Kent, and Mercia, as the ornament of her birth, and having the prerogative of seniority among her Father's children, was so far from glorying therein that for the only dear love of almighty god her creator, and the pure desire of heaven, she utterly contemned those honours which worldlings so highly admire, and wholly settled, and tied herself with all the thoughts, studies, cares, desires and powers of her soul to find out the best and readiest means, to attain to that kind of virtuous life, in which being free from all broils, and troubles of the vain world, she might spend the short time of her mortality in the contemplation of almighty God, and his heavenly gifts, and graces; thereby to ennoble the royalty of her blood, which the nobility of perfection, and virtue. And the better to put these her good thoughts, and purposes in perfect execution, she ●●●●ged her faith 〈…〉 littering, and princely palace for a monastery; her royal● 〈…〉 irple for a hayre-cloathe, her princely diadem for a little black veil, and in sum, instead of her worldly dowry, which could not but be exceeding rich and honourable, she made a happy choice of JESUS-CHRIST to be the only spouse, and spiritual ornament of her soul. II. ALL this she performed in a monastery which herself had built She becometh a Nun of S. benedict's order at Wenlock in Shrops●ir● where at 〈◊〉 hands of S. THEODORE, a Benedictin monk than Archbishop of Canturburie, she received the veil of perpetual virginttie, and was ranged into the order of Nuns of S. benedict's or d●●●●d 〈…〉 o made Abbess of the virgins that she had gathered together in the same place, and under the same rule. This monastery her father, and her uncle, Merwald, and Wulfere both kings of Mercia very richly adorned afterwards, with large, and ample possessions of lands, many precious relics of Saints, and diverse other great privileges and prerogatives. And now by reason of that holy society so worthily addicted to the divine service of God; and chiefly for S. MILBURG herself a mother worthy such a progeny, or for that holy progeny worthy so good a mother, that sacred place began to represent a new kind of little paradise, in which amongst the inhabitants was a holy contention, striving who should get the prize in the advancement of true piety, chastity, and humility, to triumph over the vain delights, fond pleasures, and fading glories of the world. III. BUT yet S. MILBURG fare excelled the rest, especially in all humility, and demission of mind, preserving herself, for the spiritual union which her heavenly spouse, most chaste, pure, and unspotted in all, and through all her actions. And as a bright A young man taken with love of her. sun to the lesser planets, she gave light unto her other sisters, by the rare example of her virtues, to show them the high way to perfection. In this her holy course of so great virtues, CHRIST was not wanting to his pious virgin, neither did he only give her daily a greater ardour of will, and a fresh supply of force, to further her progress in the path of virtue, but allsoe honoured her with famous testimonies of his care, and love towards her, and bestowed by her many excellent documents to posterity. Amongst which one, and not the lest was, that being on a time out of her monastery in a village called Stokes, a young gallant son to a prince of that country, was so taken with her beauty, that he had a vehement desire to carry her away by force, and marry her. And having gathered a band of men together to put his wicked thoughts in execution, he endeavoured to make the holy virgin his prey, but she, that had intelligence hereof by revelation from her heavenly spouse, presently with her company betook herself to flight; when the rash young man fiercer than any wolf, followed the pure lamb of CHRIST, till coming to a little shallow brook called Corse (through which the Virgin with her company had easily waded) his fury received a stop; for the water (as it were displeased at so bad an enterprise) suddenly She it miraculously preserved. swelled up, and filling his banks with angry streams, seemed to threaten those passengers with destruction. The young gallant much confounded and astonished herewith, declared, by his cessing to persecute the holy virgin any further, that the flames of his unchaste affection were utterly quenched with the sudden inundation of that cool water. In like manner as the water, the fowls, which we call Wild-geese, did obey the will, and commandment of S. MILBURG; for when those creatures The fowle● of the air obey her. made great spoil, and havoc in the corn fields near unto her monastery, the holy Virgin full of faith (which as our saviour saith (can remove mountains) commanded them presently to be gone, and charged that nether they, nor any other of the same kind, should ever dare to trespass those fields any more. To whom, a Syf they had been capable of reason, the birds forth with obeyed, & never more endomaged those places: & this miracle lasted not only during her life, but allsoe to our later ages, as it is recorded both by the testimony of the inhabitants thereabouts, & many ancient writers. Whereby you may see how it pleased the divine goodness to show a miraculous favour in our England to this his blessed Virgin, like unto that, which in times past he shown to S. ANTHONH the Hermit, when he gave him power and command over the wild boars in the desert. iv MANY other wonderful works are related of this holy Virgin, which the brevity of this discourse will not permit us to rehearse, of which these are that she restored sight unto a blind man, & life unto the dead son of a poor widow. Which deeds, as in them selues they are very great, so in respect of those other benefits, and graces (wherein by her pious exhortations, and holy example of life, she restored unto many desperate persons the heavenly light of the soul, which they had lost, and life everlasting whereof their sinful actions, and unworthiness had deprived them,) they seem to be of fare less account; in as much as the spiritual light and death of the Soul, doth excel the mortal light, and death of the Body. V Now this holy spouse of JESUS CHRIST S. MILBURG having made so worthy a progress in all kind of goodness, and virtue that Her speech to her Nuns before death even in the winter of her old age, the sweet flowers of her good works ever flourishing and increasing more, and more in perfection, she became to desire & aspire unto nothing more, then by the end of her labours in this world to attain to the joyful fruition, and presence of the only dear spouse of her soul, who through the burning and purging affliction of a long and tedious fever, called her at length unto him. But during the time of this her last sickness, having gathered her Nuns about her, with great devotion she recommended that holy society to the protection of the divine goodness and the B. Virgin MARIE, earnestly desiring them to make choice of such a governess after her death, whom they judged for true piety and religion, to be the fittest among them to undergo that charge FEB. 25. and withal exhorting them chief to preserve, true peace, & pureness of heart, she often repeated the words of CHRIST her spouse unto them: Blessed (said she) are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the children of God. Blessed are the clean of heart for they shall see God. Having given them Matt. 5. v. 8. 9 these, and such like pious admonitions and religiously armed herself, and her death with the holy sacraments, she happily yielded up her unstained soul to enjoy an everlasting kingdom, with her sacred spouse in heaven above, for whose sake she had contemned the kingdom, and pomp of this lower world: she died the three & twentith day of February, and was buried in her monastery of Wenlock. Who, as she is by a pious certainty thought gloriously to reign with her dear spouse JESUS, so, lest perchance any small cloud of Her happy death. mistrust might darken that pious belief, all mighty God himself hath showed many clear testimonies of his love to his holy spouse, able to convince the most incredulous. When many ages after the death of this holy Virgin, in the year of our lord 1101. and the reign of Henry the first, her holy body was discovered, and brought out of the ruins of oblivion, to the open view, and veneration of the world. It happened in this manner. VI THE monastery of Wenlock being destroyed afterwards by the violence of England's savage, and barbarous enemies, the holy virgin's body lay for a long time hidden amongst those ruins, till by the mnnificence of Roger Earl of Mountgomerie it was re-edified, and turned to a Priory of Benedictine Monks of the Congregation of Clunie, about the year aforesaid, when by the special providence of almighty God, S. MILBURGS' body came to light, upon this occasion. VII. A workman called Raymund being at work in the monastery The miraculous invention of her body. of the holy Trinity, he happened to find an old chest, or Box, in which was contained a writing written by one Alstan a Priest, which testified that the body of the holy Virgin lay buried there, near unto the altar. But no remnant of the altar appearing, was cause that yet there was no certainty of any thing. Till he that governs all things with certainty, soon after took away all this uncertainty, for as two children played together upon the pavement of that Church, suddenly the earth opened; and they both sunk in up to the knees. This accident being a cause of great admiration amongst the Monks, gave them occasion to have the earth digged up deeper in that place, by which means they found some bones, which sent forth a wonderful sweet savour over all the Church, and the next day after, they lighted on the foundation of the altar spoken off before. To the greater credit Miracles wrought by her relics & evidence hereof, and more clear manifesting of the glory of God, and his holy spouse S. MILBURG, many other very worthy, and notable testimonies concurred. For by the only touch of those sacred relics, but then new raked out of earth, and dust, two women were cured of most horrid leaprosies, an other was restored to her sight lost, and a boy that never saw light before, received perfect power to distinguish of colours. In sum, such and so famous where the miracles which God always wonderful in his saints, whrought there by the merits of this glorious Virgin, that whole inundations of people flocked thither in such troops, as the open fields thereabouts were scarce sufficient to receive them: where rich, and poor were in equal contention to obey the guide, and conduct of their pious faith. Nether was the labour of their piety spent in vain, for none returned without comfort, sick persons receiving a perfect recovery of health, and a cure of many such mortal diseases, which had given the foil to physicians, and their skill had left in desperation. Of which one, and not the lest was, that a woman dwelling in the village hard by called Patton, having, for the space of five years, been cruelly tormented with a very desperate disease incurable by physic, drank only of the water, wherein the holy virgin's relics had been washed, and presently she shaked of her tedious sickness, and withal disburdened her stomach of a filthy worm, ugly, and horrible to behold, having six feet, two horns on his head, and two on his tail. The woman being freed of this monstruous guest, had the happiness of her perfect health restored, and in testimony, Note a straying miracle. and memory of the fact, that worm was shut up in a hollow piece of wood, and reserved afterwards in the Monastery, as a trophy, and monument of S. MILBURG, until by the lascivious fury of him that destroyed all goodness in England, that, with other religious houses, and monasteries, went to ruin, that whereas before our fruitful Isle, for true religion, piety, continency, and other virtues, was the miracle of the world, so now for atheism, heresy, and many other vices it yields to no other realm in Christendom. The life of this holy Virgin S. MILBURG is written by joannes Anglicus recited by john Capgrave, and Nicholas Harpsfield out of whom we have gathered it. But of the inmention of her body, and miracles thereat, we have taken chiefly out of Ato Bishop, and Cardinal of Ostia who writ the miracles that happened after her inmention, and William Malmesburie, de Pont. Angl. lib. 4. & de gest. reg. Angl. l●. 2. cap. 15. The Roman martyrologue, Camden in descriptione come. Salopiae Polidore Virgil lib. 4. de regno Merciorum, Vincentius Lirinensis, in speculo lib. 25. cap. 33. Matthew Westminster anno 676. Florentius Wigorniensis anno 675. and many others make ample mention of her. The life of S. ETHELBERT King, and Confessor. FEB. 24 Out of Venerable Bede de gest. Angl. THE divine wisdom, whose almighty power only, is able to produce light out of the midst of darkness, and good out of evil, during the reign of ETHELBERT fift king of Kent, voutchafed to set Ethelbert the first Christian King of England. a period to the diabolical rites of Idolatry in England, and called ETHELBERT out of a race of Pagan Ancestors to be the first English king that sound the true Christian way to the kingdom of heaven. And whatsoever gain of souls our holy Apostle S. AUGUSTIN the Benedictine monk, and his Evangelicall brethren reaped in the spiritual harvest, and vineyard of our lord (excepting always the premotion and prevention of God's grace) is wholly due unto holy King ETHELBERT. For in as much as it lay in humane power, unless his royal grant, and assistance had stood with those divine labourers, nether the tilling not fruit of true salvation had then arrived to our English His royal courtesy. land. He, being as yet incredulous, received CHRIST in his legates, commended the messengers of eternal happiness whom yet he mistrusted, harboured those strange guests in his eittie of Donor, whom he knew not, and at first gave them a dwelling with necessary sustenance for a time which afterwards he confirmed for ever unto them, whose profession of faith and religion he did not yet admit off. He did not abhor the strangeness of their habit, nor manners, he did not repel them as straingers, nor contemn them as humble, and dejected persons, nor condemn them as men that utterly condemned the folly of his gods, and ancient laws, but out of the sweet meekness of a royal mind, favoured their sacred labours, and with a clement patience, suffered them to convert whom they could to their faith, showing himself always courteous to Christians, being yet but a Heathen. Till at length having himself received the Christian faith, and washed away the filth of Idolatry in the sacred font of baptism, he confirmed with his royal authority whatsoever S. AUGUSTIN and his fellows preached, and what they Apostolically planted, he royally increased, sweetly drawing and winning his subjects His zeal in promoting the Christian faith. to abandon their Idolatry, and embrace the Christian religion with his pious exhortations, and promises of eternal happiness without any force, or compulsion, and ranging them under the banner of the holy warrefarre of CHRIST as troops of Voluntaries and not pressed soldiers. He allsoe encouraged other Princes, who were either his subjects, or colleagues, with all courtesy and mildness to the faith of CHRIST, heartyly loving all true believers as his brethren, kinsmen, and fellow-citezins of the Kingdom of heaven; so that in a short time, his holy endeavours took so good effect, that the honour, and worship of the true God flourished over all his Kingdom, many Churches were erected, the temples, and altars of Idols were destroyed, or consecrated for the use of divine service. II. IN THE mean time the holy Pope S. GREGORY, with wonderful affection did congratulate this good King's piety, encouraging him with the sweet lines of his Epistles, as so many heavenly salutations, to proceed in his Christian zeal, inciting him to embrace true piety and virtue, and stirring him up, by the example of Constantine the great, to aspire to the unspeakable reward of those who strive to enlarge, and amplify the Kingdom of JESUS CHRIST. Moved herewith, and the labour of S. AUGUSTIN, and the propension of his own piety inclining him thereunto, he built a goodly Church in Canturbury, in honour of our Saviour, commonly called Christ Church, and without the walls of the same town, he He buildeth Churches. erected a monastery in honour of S. PETER, and PAUL called afterwards S. AUGUSTINS, to be a place for his own burial, and of his successor-Kings of Kent, and the Archbishops of Canturbury. Both these places were furnished with Benedictine monks, the first Converters of England from Idolatry, to Christianity. S. PAUL'S Church in London was allsoe the work of this worthy King, where MELLITUS a Benedictin monk was first Bishop. He allsoe founded the Cathedral Church of Rochester, and dedicated it to the honour of S. ANDREW the Apostle. He is likewise reported by antiquity to have been the Author of the monastery of Elie for Benedictin Nuns, albeit S. ETHELDRED a nun of the same order, did re-edify it afterwards, and restore it after long desolation to the former state, and glory. All these monasteries, Churches, and bishops seas this pious king not only built, but enriched with many large possesions of lands, gifts, and ornaments; omitting nothing which did any way tend to the propagation, & advanoement of true Christian religion. III. BUT amidst all these good works, and all the glory of his Princely diadem, seeptre, and large command of his Kingdom extending His great piety, and humility itself to the river Humber in Yorkshire, he so honoured Christian poverty in the magnificence of his royalty, that in possessing all things he seemed to enjoy nothing, only making use of his greatness, thereby the better to exercise and dilate his goodness. A most glorious sight it was to see, or rather to admire him that held a sceptre over so large a dominion carefully to serve the poor; to behold him that terrified Kings, and Princes of the earth to fear the humble Priests of CHRIST JESUS, and to see the ruler of the people to obey the clergy and reverence the jest, and lowest, members of his holy flock. In sum, in repressing of vice, advancing of virtue, fulfilling the commaundments of God, and in exercising all manner of works of piety and devotion, he excelled beyond the power of weak words to express. At length when he had reigned over his people in all sanctity of life the space of one and twenty years after his conversion, he left his temporal Kingdom, and gave up his blessed soul to enjoy the never dying happiness of the Kingdom of heaven; the four and twentith day of February in the year of our Lord 616. All antiquity, and the authority of ancient Saints, are unresistable witnesses of his holy life, for from the time of his death he was numbered in the Catalogue of Saints, and his festivity was honourably celebrated in the English Church. The neglect whereof he is reported by an apparition after his death to have blamed, and caused to be amended. iv AMONGST many other virtues, which do so highly set forth this good King, one was, that as he promoted the Christian religion, His good laws. so likewise he established his common wealth with many excellent laws, which he published in English, and were of great account amongst Englishmen; wherein among other things he had a special care to preserve the common good of the Church, commanding under great penalties that none should either by theft or any other means alienate, or deprive God's Church, or the Bishops thereof, of any thing whatsoever that was bestowed upon them, and allotted ●o the divine service. But o miseriel how directly Contrary to this our first Christian King are now our modern kings, whose laws and endeavours have and do tend mainly to the destruction of Churches, abbeys, and religious he uses, robbing them of their ornaments, and riches dedicated to God service, and leaving them to stand with four bare walls like so many empty barns, placing in stead of the holy image of CHRIST crucified, the pictures of bears, leopards unicorns or some such beast holding ●p in a scu cheon lions or flower de luces, as the ensigns of their destroyers. O if our first Christian king the noble E●HELBERT lived now, what would he say to see the pious labours of his hands thus miserably demolished, his altars destroyed; his laws contemned? Veryly he might justly cry out with the Royal prophet. O Lord the Gentiles have entered thy inheritance, they have polluted thy Psalm. 7●. v. 2. holy temple, They have cast the dead bodies of thy seruànts for meat to the birds of the air, the flesh of thy Saints to the beasts of the earth. God of his infinite goodness voutchafe once more to look with a merciful eye on this wretched country, and deliver it out of the deluge of sin and Heresy. The life of S. E●HELBET is written by Venerable Bede digest, Ang. lib. 1. joannes Anglicus recited by john Capgrave, Nicholas Harpsfield saec. 7. cap. 4. and other English writers, whom we have followed. The Roman Martirologe maketh mention of him this 24. of February. The life of Saint WALLBURG Virgin and Abbess of the sacred order of S. BENEDICT. FEB. 25. Written by Wolphar dus, a Monk. SAINT WALBURG borne of English parents of a royal race, sister to the two holy Benedictine Monks S. WILLIBALD, and WINEBALD, was from her tender years first trained up in England in the exercise of the monastical discipline of S. B●NEDICT, & afterwards, by the appointment of that great ornament of the Benedictine order BONIFACE Apostle of Germany, she was sent for into that country She is made Abbess in Germany. of Germany to plant there the roots of those holy monastical virtues, which she had gathered in England. And in the monastery of Heydenbeim which her Brother S. WINEBALD built in the Diocese of Eistat, S. WALBURG was made governess, & abbess of a convent of nuns, which charge (S. WIN-THE-FIGHT BALD himself governing an other of monks both of saint benedict's order) the brother & sister discharged with so great sainctity, and good example of life, that by their means that holy order floriated wonderfully in those parts, and S. WALBURG became in so great favour with almighty God, that by the virtue of her prayers she obtained all her desires. II. ONE night through the negligence and malice of him that A heavenly light caused by her prayers. should have lighted the lamp in the Church, the convent of Nuns was left in darkness: whereupon the holy virgin, being more in pain for them then herself, made her prayer unto her dear spouse the only true and indeficient Light, and at the same instant, they saw a wonderful great lustre in all parts of the monastery which dured till the next morning, to the great hast onishment, and comfort of that chaste family, who together with S. WALBURG gave humble thankes unto almighty God for so great a remonstrance of his favour, and love towards them. III. AN OTHER time she stole privately out of the monastery in the evening, not perceived of any of her religious women, and went to the gate of a very rich man not fare off where she stood like a poor unknown pilgrim, till being brought in by some of the servants, she made known to the man of the house who, and what she was. He admiring how she had passed through the fury of the mad dogs about his house, so quietly without hurt, entertained her with great joy, and reverence; and brought her (as she desired) into the chamber, where at that time, his daughter lay languishing of a cruel disease, expecting every instant when her soul would yield up her house of clay, to take her last journey, when her doleful parents, despairing of her reroverie, with tears, and sighs had already prepared for her funeral rites. But the divine goodness of him that kills, and revives, strikes, and heals again, A sick woman cured by her prayers. through the prayers, & intercessions which the holy Virgin S. WALBURG powered out all that night to his infinity mercy, recalled that dying girl, out of the jaws of her threatened death, and restored her again unto perfect health, against the next morning. Her parents, seeing this wonderful miracle, gave great thankes unto that heavenly physician, and offered many rich gifts, and presents unto the holy Virgin, as an acknowledgement of the great favour they had received by her means, but she that long since had forsaken the world, and the vain wealth thereof for the pure love of heaven, refused to receive any worldly favours for a spiritual, and divine benefit. Therefore returning again to her monastery, she followed on the course of her virtuous, and holy life, and the more she perceived the divine clemency to extend itself with greater favour unto her, the more she increased, and advanced herself in the exercise of religion, and piety, and shown more excellent examples of sanctity and perfection to her religious subjects, and inferiors. iv AT LENGTH this holy Virgin and dear spouse of CHTIST having passed through the course of a most happy life, and settled her self wholly in the pure love her creator, having conquered the world, and the desires thereof, strong in faith, excellent in her Her happy death. behaviour, stored with charity, beautified with wisdom, enriched with chastity, grounded with humility, and furnished with the ornaments of all virtues, she received the embassage of death by the calling of her dear spouse, and departed out of the miserable thraldom of this world to receive the everlasting rewards of her good works in heaven; the five & twentith day of February about the year of our Lord 776. And immediately after her departure, her dead body appeared to many of the standers by in form of a creature already glorified, and a wonderful sweet and fragrant odour issued from that holy vessel of chastity, and filled the whole house. Moreover, when her body was carried into the Church, that heavenly light which obeyed her in her life, served her likewise after her death, and lighted all the candles in the same Church without any humane help, to the glory of this holy Virgin, and great admiration, and comfort of the beholders. She was buried in the same monastery where she had lived, near unto her brother S. WINEBALD, by the hands of her other brother S. WILLIBALD Bishop, that the same earth might contain them, whom the like love of religion, virtue, and piety, truly made to be brother, and sister. V HER body was afterwards honourably translated to the Benedictin monastery at Eistadt. And in the year 893. her sacred tomb being again opened her holy ashes seemed all bedewed with water, which might be pressed out drop by drop, and yet not one mite of the dust would stick to their hands that touched it. At this time a great part of her holy relics, was translated to the monastery of Benedictine nuns at Monheim in Germany; And at both these places, many rare miracles have been wrought by the merits of this glorious Virgin, which for brevity we omit. But one is so wonderful, that I cannot pass it over in silence. For out of those chaste relics (saith Phillipp Bishop of Eistadt the author of her life) issueth a sacred oil, which by the grace of God, and the intercession of the blessed S. WALBURG gives sight to the blind, hearing to the deaf, cureth the lame, and restores the wished recovery of health to all that devoutly ask it. The sovereign virtue whereof (saith the same Author) I myself have experienced: for being overthrown with a grievous sickness and arrived at death's gate, calling to mind the divine favours which S. WALBURG incessantly showed to her beloved servants, I commanded some of the sacred oil which flowed from her body to be brought, of which at a most desired draught I drank up a little bottle full devoutly saying these words. O Blessed virgin WALBURG, for reverence of thy most beloved brother S. WILLIBALD Bishop whose unworthy successor am I Philip a sinner, make worthy intercession to our Lord form according as my sins require, & that I may recover out of the grief One cured with the oil that floweth from her body. of this my sickness, to the praise of almighty God, and his unspotted mother the Virgin Marie. This done, to the great admiration of all, I recovered perfectly out of a disease, which had given the foil to all humane art of physic. Many other miracles of the same oil are reported by the authors of her life; & are wrought yet in these days, at Eistadt where her body lies; to the great confusion of heretics, the glory of God, and our holy Father S. BENEDICT, under whose rule she ruled being alive. The Reverend Father james Gretser hath set forth a book in the year 1620. in which he recites many famous miracles done at her tomb authentically examined & proved true, with the testimony of eye-witnesses. So that this glorious Virgin like unto a fruitful and fair olive-tree growing in the fields of God's Church under the happy shade of the Benedictine order, dilateth the name and fame of her sanctity over the world by the effusion of a precious oil, which cureth, and healeth all diseases, by the mighty power of him, who hath, and will be wonderful, & glorious in his Saint's fo● ever. Amen. The life of this glorious Virgin is written very largely (& Faithfully saith Baronius) by Wolphardus a monk, and Philip Bishop of Eystat in Germany, out of whom we have gathered this history. The Roman Martirologe, Baronius tom 9 anno. 735. Trithemius in his work of the famous men of S. benedict's order lib. 3. cap. 150. Arnould Wion in his martirologe Molanus in addit ad Vsuardum, john Capgrave, and others make honourarable mention of her. The life of S. MILGITH Virgin, and Nun of S. benedict's order. FEB. 26. MILGITH, or MILVIDE daughter to Merwald king of the Mercians and S. ERMENBVAG; and sister to the most holy Virgins MILBURG and MILDRED, is much commended by our English historiographers for her great holiness of life in the conservation, and consecration of her virginity to CHRIST. But in what monastery she professed I cannot certainly affirm. Yet some writ that she lived a Nun in a monastery which S. ETHELBERT built in Kent not fare from Canturburie. It is likely that she lived either with one of her holy sisters, with S. MILBURG at Wenloke or with S. MILDRED in the I'll of Tanet in Kent. Certain it is in whatsoever monastery she lived, that she was a Nunnne of S. benedict's order: seeing that no other rule but his was in those days received in England. Of her and her two sisters Polidore virgil gives this testimony. These most excellent virgins. (saith he) partly out of their holiness of life, partly out of their service Lib. 4. hist. Ang in religion, in which they exercised themselves with continency, were sound worthy to be by our fathers numbered afterwards among the Saints. This holy Virgin flourished 〈◊〉 the year 675. Florentius Wig. Matthew westminster Ranulphus Cicestrensis and others speak honourably of her virtues. depiction of Saint Oswald S. OSWALDUS EPISCOPUS WIGORNIENSIS IN Anglia Monachis Benedictinus. Feb. 28. Mart. Ba … The life of S. OSWALD Bishop of Worcester confessor of the holy order of S. BENEDICT. FEB. 28. Written by senatus Branonius a monks of Worcesler. THE glorious Bishop and ornament of the Benedictin family S. OSWALD, borne of a most noble English race, and endowed with a very rare, and beautiful form of body, began from his very infancy to avoid all such childish toys, and follies as are incident to that age, and wholly to apply himself to the sacred study, and exercise of true piety, and religion, thereby to ennoble the nobility of his birth, the nobility of virtue. S. O●o Archbishop of Canturbury was his uncle, a man of wonderful wisdom, S. Odo Archoyop of Cant●rbury, his uncle. and discretion, of a grave behaviour, a most just and upright mind, and circumspect an all his actions: unto whom OSWALD was committed by his parents to be trained up in the school of learning, good manners, and virtue. Under this so excellent a master, our worthy scholar became so good a proficient in all profane, and divine learning, that he was promoted to a Canonrie in the Church of Winchester. Where, when others, not regarding the institute of their order, and calling, let lose the raines to the lewd desires of their minds, he constantly confined himself to the prescript rule of a canonical life. So that within a short space of time he was chosen Deane, in which office, all though as yet he were but young, yet he zealously endeavoured to correct the corrupt manners of the ancient, and to reform their youthful minds to the exercise of a celestial rule and discipline. But they, grown old in their bad customs See how hurtful a bad custom is. would by no means be recalled to the obedience of any good order. Therefore OSWALD despising all secular pomp, and riches of this world, determined to pass over into France, to the Benedictin Monastery of Florie, where the body of our holy father S. BENEDICT is said to rest. S. ODO his uncle (who before he would undertake He taketh the habit of S. Bentdict. the Archbishopric, had received the habit of a monk in the same place) being desirous to further his pious intention herein, gave him letters of commendation with tokens to the fathers there of his acquaintance. OSWALD being safely arrived into the port of his desires, put on the habit of S. BENEDICT amongst those French monks; And presently he that came thither to be instructed, behaved, and fashioned himself in such sort, that others, who thought themselves his masters, might in him read a lesson for their own instruction, His virtues and find many examples of virtue worthy their imitation. For he was a man of great mortification, of a little sleep, sparing in his diet, wise and moderate in his speeches, and continual in his prayers. But how rarely he was endued with patience, humility, curresie, humanity, meekness and other virtues we may easily guess out of the sincerity of his burning charity, wherein, it is beyond the force of weak words to express, how highly he excelled. II. THE Abbot granted him the privilege of a secret place in the Church, where with more freedom and familiarity he might apply his mind to the divine service of allmigtie God. In which place The devil ennieth, his study of virtue. being removed from the noise, and disquiet of others, he bent all the endeavour, and power of his soul to prayer, meditation, and contemplation of divine, and heavenly mysteries; which his pious exercise served as bellowes to blow the coals of the Devil's envy and hatred against him. For as the holy man was one night earnestly bend Oswald vaquish●h his diabolical practices with the sign of the cross. to his prayers, and meditations, the wicked spirit raised the most horrid noises and cries, that humane ears ever heard, intending thereby either to make him desist from his holy enterprise, or at to perform it more slothfully, or never more to attempt the practice of any such devotion. But he was deceived in all, for OSWALD keeping fast his footing, under the approved protection and bucklar of a firm and constant faith, was no more terrified with the roaring of lions, the hissing of serpents, and the horrid cries, and howling of other beasts, which that wicked author of mischief did fain, then if he had heard the silly bleating of so manies innocent lambs, or sheep; and therefore he contemned, and scorned all those ugly cries, together with the diabolical author of them. The devil confounded hereat, suddenly vanished away, and strait appeared unto him transformed into the shape of an angel of light. When he (that knew a good angel would not be troubled at the sign of the holy cross) presently armed himself therewith, which the wicked tempter no sooner perceived, butihe be trayed himself to be a Messenger of darkness, vanishing out of his sight like a puff of smoke, and he remained free ever after from his hellish practices. III. near unto his private oratory was a place where twelve poor men received their daily sustenance from the monastery, one of which daily assisted S. OSWALD at the dreadful sacrifice of Mass. It happened one day that as the holy man being past the gospel, lifted up his eyes to heaven in his prayers, his servant saw a person of a very reverend countenance holding with great reverence a little piece of white bread in his hands, lifted over his head. The poor man although wonderfully terrified with this vision, yet he stood stiffly to it, and would not offer to run away. But perceaving the same bread to increase more and more, as the Priest went forward in his mass, and at length to become of an unaccustomed bigness, he durst stay no longer, but fled out of the Church with all the hast he could. Therefore S. OSWALD the Priest remained alone, with the Angel on his right hand, that seemed to assist him. In the mean time, the poor man would ever now and then trembling peep in at the Church door, to hearken, and espy what was done about the altar: and when the seruanr of God, as the manner is, pronounced; Per omnia saecula saeeulorun, & other such like, he heard the Angel answer him distinctly to every thing, and saw him very officiously waiting upon him. Mass being ended his fugitive servant returned, and perceaving the Angel to be gone, he ran quaking to S. OSWALD, and related the cause of his running away, enquiring of him if he likewise had seen the Angel. Truly (said he) I both saw, and heard what thou dost rehearse: all mighty God's name be for ever blessed, who did not forsake me, being destitute of help in his holy sacrifice. And I strictly command thee, never to reveal this vision while I live. iv SAINT ODO Archbishop of Canturburie hearing the fame of S. OSWALDS' holy conversation and manner of life, gave infinite thankes unto the author of all goodness, and with many gifts sent to the monastery, showed, & declared himself in name, of his nephew, very grateful, and thankful both to the Abbott, and Monks thereof: withal fignifying unto them, that he greatly desired to enjoy his presence in England, as well for that now being tired with old age he supposed his death to be near at hand, as allsoe for that he was determined by his means, to order, and train up those of his own Country in regular and monastical discipline. This message sorely troubled the monks of Fleurie, who were very unwilling to par● with OSWALD, and OSWALD was as unwilling to leave them, so desirous he was to live a private retired life. But nether daring to contend against the Archbishops will, they obeyed, and sent him back with due honour, and respect: But before he arrived at Conturbury his uncle S. ODO had taken his journey to heaven. V But he had an other Uncle called Osketill, who at that time governed Osketill Archbishop of York. the Church of Dorcester, and hearing of Oswald's arrival, not only entertained him very courteously, but gave him so high a seat in his favour, that he made him of his counsel in the more secret affairs of his soul. Till not long after Osketill being elected to the archiepiscopal sea of York, S. DUNSTAN, with his praises and commendations of OSWALD, brought him into great grace, and familiarity with noble King Edgar, who caused DUNSTAN to advance him to the Episcopal sea of Worcester. In this sacred dignity he behaved himself worthily both for the benefit of the English Church, and restoring William Malm. de gest. reg. Ang. cap. 7. of monastical disc pline, which by the barbarous incursions of the Danes, and the lascivious fury of late king Edwy, who totally favoured the vices of the secular Clergy, was much impaired. And first in the village of Westberie he gathered a little Convent of twelve Benedictin monks, whom he used very often times to visit, and comfort with his pious exhortations, & together with them to labour himself in the pious exercise of a retired life, in watching, fasting, and prayer. Afterwards he built the Benedictine Abbey of Ramsey among the fens of Huntingtonshire which flourished from that time to the unfortunate age of Henry the eight. It was first founded upon this occasion. VI COUNT Ailwin, a near kinsman to King Edgar, had for many Records of Ramsey. years endured the cruel torments of the gout. When a certain fisherman of his called Vulget, entering with his boat into the water of Ramesmere (so the place was called) endeavoured to take some fish for his master: but having laboured a long while in vain, at length much wearied, he fell asleep; when our holy father S. BENEDICT appeared unto him with these words: at the rising of the morning (said he) cast thy nets into the water, and according to thy desire thou shall take great store of fish, of which take the greatest called a Pike The vision of a Fisherman. and present it to Alwin thy master in my name, bidding him that he receive my gift courteously, and out of hand build a monastery for monks in this Island to the honour of the most holy Mother of God, mine, and all the holy virgins: and let him observe where his cattle rest by night, and in the very place where he shall see the bull as he rises beat the ground with his right foot, let him erect an altar. But that he may give more credit to these my commands, behold I will bend thy finger crooked, which he, being freed from the gout that so vehemently afflicts him, shall presently restore to place again. The fisherman awaking cast forth his nets into the deeps, and drew out great store of fish; he presented the fairest to the Count, rehearsing at large what he had seen. and what was given him in charge to say: entreating him withal to make good his crooked finger. The Count being healed of his gout, straightened Count Alwin cured of the gout. his finger, and went in all haste to the Island, where he beheld the bull rising out of the midst of the other beasts, that in their lying made the form of a cross, beat the earth with his foot. Whereupon giving credit to the Fishermans' relation, he gave thankes unto almighty God, and erected a chapel out of hand in the same place. Where not long after, Alwin giving very ample possessions thereunto, S. OSWALD within the compass of five years erected a goodly monastery for Benedictin Monks, and in the year of our Lord 974. he dedicated the Church with great solemnity to the honour of the B. Virgin MARIE, and the great Patriarch of monks S. BENEDICT; and made a monk of his called Ednoth the first Abbot thereof. The abbots of this Monastery in times past were Barons of the realm, and Parliament men. Anno 97●. A Council in England against the incontinency of the secular Clergy. Matthew Westm. Baronius and Osbern in vit. Dunst. VII. ABOUT the same time the worthy prelate of Canturbury & mirror of the Benedictine order S. DUNSTAN, by the supreme authority of Pope john, summoned a Council, wherein it was firmly decreed, and ordained that all secular Canons, Priests, deacons subdeacons and others of the secular Clergy should either conform them selues to a chaste life according to their calling, or be dismissed from the Churches, which by their lewd manner of life they rather polluted, then governed. And in this expedition S. DUNSTAN, had the famous king Edgar his faythfuil Coadiutour, and worthy Defender. The execution of his decree was committed to the two bright ornaments of the Benedictin family S. OSWALD Bishop of Worcester, and S. ETHELWOLD of Winchester. Therefore S. OSWALD (of who only we are now to speak) repaired, built, and restored seven monasteries, within his own diocese, to the Monks, ordaining to each one an Abbot, having first cast out the secular Clergy for their insolent lewdness of life. Amongst those Abbots there was one called Fulbert Abbot of Persore, a man of very examplar life, and a fervent zealer of monastical religion, but too severe towards his subjects, A fearful example or vn●isre● Ruler's which fault was much to be reprehended in him. For coming to his last end, and being laid dead on the bier, he suddenly lifted him self up, to the great terror of the beholders, crying out that he was led by S. BENEDICT before the dreadful sight of the supreme judge, and that God with difficulty had pardoned him his sins, through the merits of his beloved servant OSWALD, for the declaration of whose sanctity he was thus miraculously revived. At these words he was silent, and having received the sacred Viaticum of our lords body, he lived half a day, and returned to death again. VIII. ALLSOE in many other places of England S, OSWALD Oswald rest●●reth the monks to the●r Churches having expulsed the secular clergy for the self same cause of incontinency he delivered the government of the Churches to monks, of the Benedictin institution, to whom they truly belonged: to wit, the Churches of S. ALBAN, of S. ETHELDRED virgin in Ely, and that of Beamfled. In S. ALBAN he made one Elfrick Abbot afterwards Archbishop of Canturburie, he ordained Abbots at Ely one Brithnot, and Gorman at Beamfled. And all the monasteries which thus he instituted he was wont often times to visit, and out of a fatherly affection to furnish them both by word and deed, with whatsoever appertained to the health, and salvation of their souls. In the Abbey of Ramsey he placed one Abbo a Benedictin monk of Fleury in France, a man famous both for sanctity and learning, to Abbo of ●●●ury. teach, direct, and govern the monks in their schools, and together with the endowments of learning, to advance them in the exercise of regular, and monastical discipline. This Abbo at S. DUNSTAN'S entreaty writ an exact relation of the life and passion of S. EDMUND King and martyr, which you may read the twentith of November. At length returning to his own Abbey of Fleury, he was there made Abbot, and afterwards martyred by some unruly monks whom he laboured to reform. IX THUS laboured blessed OSWALD in the reformation of Ecclesiastical affairs, redeeming and working the virginal Church and spouse of CHRIST out of the sacrilegious hands of her lose governors, and cleansing his sacred harvest from the impure tares of lasciviousness. But after what manner he reduced the Benedictines into their ancient Cathedral Church of Worcester, let William Malmesburie tell us. S. OSWALD (saith he) considering by little, and little that in the minds of the clergy there residing, there remained yet some small sparks of goodness, which might be bettered if a man knew how to animate, and shapen it aright, did not expel How 〈◊〉 restored the monks to their Ch●rch of Worcester. them forcibly, but entrapped them with a most pious sleight. And because the Cathedral Church was dedicated to the honour of S. PETER, he erected an other in the same Churchyard, to the name of the blessed mother of God: in which, having placed a Convent of monks, he more willingly conversed, and more familiarly executed the divine office amongst them then with the secular Clergy. Which the people perceaving, who held it a great offence to want the daily Benediction of so religious a Bishop, flocked all thither. So that the Clergy left alone, chose rather to put on the habit, and manners of the monks, than otherwise to be a damage to themselves, and a mockery to the common people. But those (saith Wigorniensis) that refused to take the monastical habit, he quite expelled the monastery, and over the rest which consented to a monastical life, he made one Winsinure, a virtuous Benedictin, monk of Ramsey, Prior in place of the Dean. The rumour of S. OSWALDS' prudent carriage of this business coming to the ears of noble King Edgar, got him wonderful great friendship, and favour both with him, and all the Peers S. Oswald made Arch bishop of York. of his realm. And the pious King, by the authority of a royal Charter, greatly praised and commended this act of S. OSWALD, and confirmed the monastery of Worcester to the possession of the Benedictine monks for ever. Afterwards, the Archbishop of York being dead, S. OSWALD by the means of King Edgar and S. DUNSTAN Archbishop of Canturburie, and the consent of the whole clergy, was compelled to undertake the government of that Sea also. But lest the monks of his diocese, who yet were but newly settled in that Church, being so suddenly left destitute of the spiritual nourishment of so good a father, should begin to waver for want of a constant prelate and pastor to uphold them, by the authority of S. DUNSTAN the Metropolitan of England, and worthy Pillar of t●e Benedictine Order, he was held likewise in the government of the Church of Worcester, together with the archiepiscopal Sea of York; so great was the estimation of his excellent worth, incomparable virtue, & wonderful zeal, piety, and devotion, in the reforming of the bad customs, and establishing of good laws for the maintenance and propagation of Ecclesiastical discipline. X. IT PLEASED the almighty wisdom, while this Blessed Prelate thus exercised himself in these good works of piety, and zeal towards his Church, to confirm his holy endeavours, and testify them to be pleasing and acceptable to his divine majesty, by many miracles, which he wrought through his merits, both in his life, and after his death. When the Church of our Lady which Behold the Spirit of S Benedict in S. Oswald. we have mentioned before was in building, there lay not far from the place a great square stone necessary for that work, which when the workmen endeavoured to make use off, as if it had taken root in the ground, it stuck so fast that by no means they were able only to move it. All greatly amazed thereat, the matter was brought to S. OSWALD, who coming to the place, wondered to see so many men strive in vain in so small a labour: and strait offering up his prayers privately unto almighty God, he saw an ugly Blackamoor sitting upon the stone, with obscene gesture scoffing at the labourers. And presently brandishing the sign of the holy Cross against him, he suddenly vanished away. Then the stone which fourscore, The virtue of the holy Cross. men before were not able to stir, was with ease carried away by a few, and put into the building: The like accident S. GREGORY relates of our holy Father S. BENEDICT himself, when his monks were erecting a monastery, whereby it appears how great an opposer the Devil is to the works of Benedictines, and that their malice which oppose that holy order comes but from a black master. XI. THE monks of Ramsey abbey, (OSWALD standing on the other side of the river) endeavoured to pass over to him in a boat, He saneth his monks from drowning. which being over loaden, began to sink, when they poor souls suddenly astonished with such an imminent danger of death, cried out for help unto him, who making the sign of the cross upon them, the boat presently returned from under the water, as if it had been without any burden, and carried them safely over to the shore on the other side. XII. IT WAS told him on a time, that a monk of Ely busied in the repairing of the Church, died by a fall from the top thereof. Whereat, because he knew that monk had not led a life alltogeather without fault, he was much grioved, and calling the monks of Ramsey abbey together, he related unto them the accident of his sorrow, exhorting them to pray earnestly unto almighty. God for his soul. Prayers for the dead meritorious. They obeying his pious desire, sung Dirges, and Psalms for their deceased brother; sorrowfully knocking at the gates of the divine mercy. At length as the holy Bishop was at his prayers, that dead monk appeared visibly unto him, who enquiring what he was: I am he (replied the ghost) for whom thou so fervently dost pray. And how (said the holy man sighing) hast thou done hitherunto, Purgatory which Heretics shall never feel. and yet, how is it with thee? Truly (answered he) hitherunto very ill, but now most well: for through thy merits, and prayers I was yesterday delivered by gods holy Angel out of the insufferable pains, which did torment me. And this I came to tell thee, and render many thankes for thy charity, and withal to admonish thee how grateful thou oughtest to be for this and many other graces and benefits, which it hath pleased his divine majesty to show unto thee. This said, he vanished. And the holy man gave infinite thankes unto almighty God for his goodness. XIII. HE WAS, wont at fit times to make a progress over all his Diocese, and feed their souls with the heavenly learning of his sermons, ever comforming his own life to his words and whatsoever he could find in the manners of his subjects, which might offend the eyes of the divine overseer of all humane actions, with a fatherly corection he endeavoured to see amended. In this his pious visitation he happened to come to Rippon, where in former The Bodies of Saints miraculously found. times the holy Benedictine monk S. Wilsrid had been buried in a monastery which himself there erected, and which afterwards for the most part was destroyed and ruined by barbarous people, and changed (as now adays our monasteries are) to dens, and lodgings forwild beasts. Here the holy man watching by night at his devotions, learned by revelation that the bodies of some saints were buried there, which doubtless by diligent search might be found. The next morning he caused the earth to be digged up, whereby the holy bodies were found, and a table with this inscription. Here resteth S. Wilfrid Bishop of York, and the reverend abbots, Tilbert, Boruin, Albert, Sigred, and Wilden. In the mean time he placed those relics in a convenient place: but afterwards, understanding this S. WILFRID to be a kinsman of the great S. WILFRID founder of that monastery, he caused his body to be enshrined, and honourably reserved according to his worth. For the body of that great S. WILFRID was long since translated thence to Canturburie by S. ODO the Archbishop. And now S. OSWALD sent these other relics honourably unto Worcester. XIV. MANY other miracles were wrought by the merits of this Many Miracles. holy Bishop. The bread which he had blessed, cured a great man of a fever; and a rat that chanced to eat the crumbs thereof as they fell from his table, was choked, and died presently in the same place. A monk which presumed to sit and sleep in his seat, was cruelly tormented by a horrid crew of devils for his temereity. XV. HOW charitable he was to the poor, it exceedeth this weak His notable humanity, and charity towards the poor pen to rehearse. He was wont every day, besides innumerable others which daily he nourished, to exercise his charity more peculiarly to twelve poor men, washing their dirty feet, drying them with a towel, and kissing them with his holy mouth; pouring water on their hands, covering them a table providing them meat, and drink, waiting on them at table; and lastly having well satisfied their hunger he bestowed on each a piece of silver, and dismissed them. Unto these at Easter he gave new , and retained them with him in his hall as his principal guests for certain days. No sickness could detain him from these pious offices, nay the weaker he found his body, the more he forced himself with greater diligence to execute his service to these poor men: worthily following herein the humble example and exemplar humility of our dear Redeemer washing the feet of his twelve Apostles. XVI. AT LENGTH, having for the space of many years ruled both his bishoprics, with great wisdom, and sainctity, to the wonderful He foreteeths his ●●ne death. admiration of England, the notable increase of God's Church, the reformation of vice, and the worthy advancement of monastical discipline, having outlived his two brethren in religion, and noble Equals in sanctity, Dunstan and Ethelwold, the first five years, the other ten; the day before his departure out of this life, going forth with his monks out of the Church into the open air, he stood with his eyes most attentively bend towards heaven, making his prayer with a mouth and heart full of piety, unto JESUS CHRIST whom so fervently he desired to enjoy. Nether did he (as at other times) quickly draw back his eyes from looking upwards, but as if he did comtemplate with great pleasure of mind some strange novelty, he remained very long fixed on what he beheld. Being demanded what he saw. I contemplate (said he) the place whither I am going, which to morrow next you shall plainly understand. For the eternal happiness is now at hand, to attain which I have hitherunto laboured on earth; nether shall the morrow-sunne be set, before my Lord, as he hath promised, will call me into the joys of his ever flourishing paradise. Therefore returning into the Church he called his monks together, and exhorted them to give him the He receiveth the last Sacraments. sacrament of extreme unction, and the sacred viaticum of our Lord's body. The night following, forgetting this his sickness, (so attentive he was to prepare for his happy journey) he went into the Church and having finished his divine office, he spent the rest of the night in prayers. In the morning, according to custom, he girt himself with a towel, and washed, dried, and kissed the feet of his twelve poor men; and having performed the fifteen psalms which he used to recite in that pious service, he added thereunto; Gloria patri etc. and the poor rising as their manner was, to give thankes, In his pious exercise he happily departeth. at those words, (Spiritui Sancto) in sight of them all, he yielded up his blessed soul into the hands of his dear Redeemer; the twenty eight day of February in the year of our Lord 992, having been bishop thirty years. When his body was carried to burial, a white dove appeared to descend from heaven, and flying gently over it, covered and protected it with her wings. Allsoe a fiery globe seemed miraculously to hang over the bier whereon his holy body was laid. And when his sacred relics were placed before the high altar, that fiery vision, as it were to design the place for his burial, wavered to the south side of the Church over against the altar, and suddenly vanished out of sight. His Body was committed to the earth in the Church of our blessed Lady which himself (as we have said before) had erected. And Count Alwin after the death of this holy man, being oppressed with an unspeabeable anguish, and grief of mind, departed out of this tedious life, and was buried in his Abbey of Ramsey with this Epitaph. Here resteth Alwin cousin of the famous King Edgar, Alderman of all England, and the miraculous founder of this sacred Monastery. The holy Bishop Saint OSWALD, as in his life he was wonderful, so after his death, it pleased the almighty worker of wonders, to show many miracles at his tomb by his holy intercession, and merits, whereof we will speak more at large on the feast of his translation the 15. day of October, when his greatest festivity was celebrated in the English Church. It resteth only now, that we pray unto his glorious Saint who is so potent and powerful a favourite with almighty God, to obtain his divine grace for us in this world, and to be partakers of the glory of his blessed Saints in the next, through our lord JESUS-CHRIST, who be for e●er blessed, praised, & glorified. Amen. His life was written by one Senatus Bravonius a monk of Worcester about the year of our Lord 1170. which is recited by Laurence Surius in his tenth tome, and praised by Baronius for a history saythfully written. We have only added thereunto some few things out Malmesbury, Baronius, Harpsfield. The very same history with this of Surius is recited by john Capgrave out of joannes Anglicus, only different in the stile which Surius corrected. The mouths of all historiographers, English and others, are full of the praises of S. OSWALD. The life of S. AIDO, or Aidus, Abbot, and Confessor. FEB. 28. Out of an ancient author recited by john Cap grave. AIDO borne in the province of Conaght in Jreland, and given to his barren parents by the special favour of almighty God, when he came to such age that he was able to make choice of a course of life, he departed to the Province of Leinster, where he led a solitary life in all manner of virtue and holiness. Afterwards, he came into Wales, where living under the discipline of great S. David, he daily shown many strange examples of miraculous works, and virtues, in so much that during the time of his abode there, the Saxons (then mortal enemies to the Britan's) durst never presume to invade their dominions fearing the power & virtue of this Saint. Returned as he was again into Ireland, he built a monastery He buildeth a monastery in Ireland wherein he became the spiritual father, and teacher of very many monks, whom he instructed in all good learning, and the monastical discipline of those times. Many strange, and almost incredible miracles, are reported of this holy man, which I willingly omit. It sufficeth, for proof of his sanctity, that he lived in the continual exercise of virtues, and died laden with the merits of many good works, as he did this twenty vl day of February. At S. DAVID'S in Menevia he was called Mo●dock that is, Irish: and there his feast was celebrated with very great reverence and devotion. Thus much of his life I have gathered out of joannes Anglicus recited by john Capgrave, with whom only let the truth of his relation stand, for I find no other Author that maketh mention of this Saint. The end of February. depiction of St. Swibert S. SWIBERTUS EPISC. WLRDENSIS, APOSTOLUS Frisia, Monachus Anglus Ord. S. Benedicti. M. ba●…. f. The life of S, SWIBERT Bishop and Confessor, Apostle of Frizeland, and Saxony monk of the holy order of S. BENEDICT. MAR. 1 Written by S. Mar celline priest, his companion, and fellow preacher. IN THE year of our Lord six hundred forty seven, S. SWIBERT was borne in Northumberland of noble & princely parents, count Sigebert, and Berta his wife. Before his birth, his devout mother had a vision, The vision of his mother. as she lay in her bed, wherein she beheld one star in the heavens fare excelling all the rest in brightness, whose glittering beams, seemed to give light to the whole country, and presently the same star appeared to fall upon the bed where she lay. This was then interpreted by S. AYDAN bishop of Lindisfarne to be a presage of the child that she bore in her womb, who (as he said) should be a light unto his Country, and the whole Church of God. And in confirmation hereof, at the very hour she was delivered, A strange light appeared at his birth. a wonderful great splendour shined in the chamber, whose beams seemed to dazzle the day's light, and much astonish the beholders. The Child being borne, the same light decreased by degrees, and vanished. In baptism he was called SWIBERT, and being from his very Cradle trained up in the fear of God, and good learning, he so carefully avoided all vices incident to that age, and so manfully embraced the hard ways of virtue, that he gave great hopes of his future greatness, which caused many already to prognosticate wonders of his sanctity. And to the end he might daily He embraceth a monastical life. proceed the better from virtue, to virtue, a● the age of fifteen years, he departed with the good leave of his parents to the Benedictine abbey of Bard●●●● in Lincolne●●ire, where he forsook all worldly hopes, and became a monk of the holy order of S. BENEDICT, under the government of the good Abbot Higbald. In this virtuous school, our noble youth carefully endeavoured to ennoble his mind, with all manner of virtue, in all things behaving himself, with such prompt obedience, humble modesty, and sweet innocence of life, that in short time he grew to he much loved, esteemed, admired, and reverenced even of the greatest, and ancientest monks in the house. Having lived nine years in the same monastery, in continual continency, abstinence, and the exercise of regular, and monastical discipline, he was advanced to the sacred dignity of Priesthood, in the execution of which holy function He is made Priest. worthily corresponding with his virtuous actions, he offered daily to almighty God a most acceptable sacrifice. For in true piety and religion he was second to none, adorned with the glory of all Christian virtues, most attentive and frequent in his prayers, and most exactly rigid in fasting, and mortifying his own body: in so much that he gave great examples of edification to his brethren, and the famous report of his virtues was published, and admired throughout the Country. II. WHILST thus he shined in the excellency of a religious life among his other brethren, as a bright sun amongst the rest of the planets, the Bishop of York, having understood the incomparable Benedictine Monks sometimes Canons. praises of his virtue, rejoiced much thereat, and sending for him made him a Canon of the Cathedral Church of S. Peter's at York. Whereat the reader need not wonder, since heretofore is hath been a laudable custom, much practised in the Church of God, for Monks of S. benedict's order, to govern cathedral Churches as Canons, & were indeed monastical canons; and of this kind S. SWIBERT was ordained one at York. In which CONVENT (saith the author, to show that they were monks, since a choir of secular Canons is called a CHAPTER and not a CONVENT) he lived for the space of two years in so great austerity of life, & such strict observance of Monastical discipline, that he seemed to lead an angelical life upon S. Swibert of a Benectin Canon made Abbot of Monks. earth. And now being come to that height of perfection that he was fit to be proposed as a mirror to all such as professed a regular life, he was created abbott of the monastery of Dacore, so called from the river Dacor running thereby. In the mean time, the venerable man S. EGBERT a Benedictin monk (of whom see April the 24.) wonderfully zealing the gain of souls, & the promulgation of CHRIST'S holy Gospel, (his own resolution to go into those countries being hindered by revelation from heaven) made choice of twelve learned English monks all zealous of the Catholic cause out of diverse monasteries Twelve English Benedictins sent to preach in Germany. of England & Jreland to preach the Christian faith in Frizeland. One & not the of these elect preachers was our S. SWIBERT, & S. MARCELINE that wrote his life an other: they were eleven priests, & one decon, who having all happily passed the sea towards the vineyard of CHRIST allotted to their holy charge, they arrived at Utrecht about the year 690. And following the same institution, order and conversation of life that the Apostles, and disciples of CHRIST used in the primitive Church, no man presuming to call any thing his own, but all observing the rules of the monastical, and religious poverty, which they professed, They began with very great constancy, and resolution, to preach the Christian faith amongst those barbarous people; But the Frisons that were men of an untamed and stubborn nature, stood stiffly in defence of their Idoatrie, refusing to listen to the sacred tidings of the true Gospel; so that these holy preachers being threatened with death for announcing the words of life, were compelled to departed thence, having at first reaped little or noeprofitt at all. III. THEREFORE they went into an Island called Fosteland where Radbode the King of Friesland (being beaten out of his Kingdom by the most Christian Prince Pepin of France) then remained. And in this (it being a place of very great, and solemn resort among those Pagans, by reason of the superstitious Idolatry used there to a God of theirs called Foste, from whom the Island took name) the Preachers of CHRIST began to announce the holy gospel, and having destroyed the profane altars of those stonie-hearted Gods, jupiter and Foste, they laboured to convert the people to the knowledge of the only true God creator of the world; where their pains were rewarded with the conversion but of three souls only. But Radbode understanding hereof, caused one of them Wigbert martyred. called Wigbert to be cruelly put to death (a glory which long before he had desired) and banished all the rest out of the Island. When they, perceiving the tyranny of the worldly prince, to withstand their good endeavours in preaching the sweet gospel of the king of heaven, retired themselves to the forenamed worthy Prince Pepin, who sent them to preach in the lower parts of Frizeland, with a strict charge to all the Pagans under his dominion to hear them with patience. By this means, many were daily converted A Church dedicated to the holy Cross. to the faith; in so much that they procured a Church to be built at Utrecht in honour of the holy Cross, in which they consecrated a font, that such as received the Faith, might have free access to be there baptised. And now the harvest of our Lord beginning greatly to increase, and the labourers, being but few, these holy men divided themselves, & went by two, & three together to preach in diverse parts of lower Germany. But S. SWIBERT (of whom only now we treat) accompanied with Weresrid, & Marcelline, came to the great village some two miles distant from Vtreight, called Duerstat, where constantly preaching CHRIST crucified, and proving their worshipped Idols to be nothing but houses of devils, he was straight apprehended S. Swibert beaten, and imprisoned by the Pagan Priests, who feared the utter ruin of their Idolatry, & being cruelly beaten, he was cast into prison, meaning to put him privately to death the next morning: for publicly they durst not do it, fearing the French Christians, under the yoke of whose government they were. When we (saith the Author) werenfrid and I Marcelline, with tears and lamentations followed him to the prison gate. Which S. SWIBERT perceiving, with a merry countenance comforted, and exhorted them courageously to Delivered by an Angel. remain in the faith of CHRIST, and not to fear death for his sake. But the same night, as he prayed in that darksome lodging, a bright Angel appeared unto him with lightsome news of comfort, following the lustre of whose fair countenance (like an other Apostle PETER, he was delivered out of that irksome jail, in the very sight and view of his astonished jailors. Then coming again to his two companious, they fell all together on their knees, and gave humble thanks to almighty God for this great token of his love, and goodness. iv THE Pagans, and specially the Priests of the Idols understanding the manner of his straying delivery, began to stagger in their faith, and call in question the power of their weak Gods. Before whom S. SWIBERT preaching again the next day, and worthily extolling the omnipotent power of JESUS-CHRIST, bred a general amazement in their blinded souls, and converted very many to the true Catholic faith, no man offering to lay hands on him. Which done, he returned again to Vtrei●ght, making his fellowe-brethrens partakers of what had happened; who with tears of joy received him, and gave infinite thanks to the almighty worker of his freedom. Afterwards he went through diverse towns and Villages of Frizeland, Holland, & Teisterband, founding, and breathing no other Many converted to the faith. words or accents but of Christ and his holy Gospel; and albeit he found many great difficulties, and endured straying afflictions from the fury of the Infidels, yet always sustained by the divine help, he constantly persevered in his holy enterprise of preaching; whereby great store of people were converted to the knowledge of the true faith. He arrived at length at a village in Holland, called Hagenstein, where (it being a principal festivity among the Pagans) he chanced to find the people very busily employed in the worshipful exercise of their diabolical sacrifices, rites, and ceremonies before See the constant ●eale of S Swibert. their stony Gods. and thrusting himself into the midst of that barbarous press of people, he cried out in the spirit of his zeal, and very eagerly reprehended the blindness of their ignorance, in worshipping those stocks and stones for Gods, preaching unto them the true faith of CHRIST crucified, whose power was infinite in heaven, and earth, & who only it was, that ruled the course of the world, and produced miraculous effects therein. The Pagans admiring so great constancy and boldness in the man, and being curious to make experience, whether it were true that miracles could be wrought in the virtue of him whom he preached, flocked presently about him, offering him a young man called Giselbert, that from his birth had never seen the light: whom (if by the power of the Crucified God he so highly extolled) he could restore to perfect sight, they would be content to give more ear to his doctrine, otherwise he was to expect a sudden and cruel death for his hire. The holy man, compelled by the justness of this necessity, fell presently on his knees, & having devoutly poured out his humble prayers to almighty God, he arose, and making the sign of the holy Cross on the unprofitable eyes of the blind person, cried out with a loud voice: In the name of the true God our Lord JESVE-CHRIST crucified whose gospel I preach, I command thee to receive thy One borne blind he cureth with the sign of the cross. sight, and confess the power of thy creator. At which words the young man opening his eyes found the perfect use of his desired sight; to his own great comfort, and the wonderful astonishment of the beholders, that heard him openly proclaim that there was no other God but JESUS-CHRIST, whom his servant SWIBERT preached. V THE Pagans (as blind of faith as he had been of sight) much Many receive the Christian faith. amazed at the strangeness of this miracle, began to be touched to the quick with a true compunction of heart, and horror of they own ignorance, and first the Sacrificer of the Village, with great store of people fell humbly prostrate before S. SWIBERT, to demand pardon for the wrong offered. Whom when the B. man with many pious exhortations had confirmed in the true faith, the next day, almost all the people of that Village being gathered together in the profane temple of their Idol, by the same holy man's perswas on, believed, and were cleansed from all their sins in the sacred F 〈…〉 t of Baptism, and their Idolatrous Temple was changed into a Christian Church, and consecrated afterwards by S. SWIBERT (when he was made Bishop) to the honour of God, and the unspotted Virgin his Mother. The glory of this miracle being blown over the country, through the trumpet of flying fame many that had known the young man blind, came willingly to S. SWIBERT, and being by him instructed, they believed and were baptised. VI THAN the number of Christians daily increasing in many parts of Germany, through the fruitful preaching of S. SWIBERT, S. Swibert made Bishop. and his other fellows, & being in want of bishops to exercise more eminent authority over them, to consecrate Churches, for the divine service, to give holy orders, and supply all others functions belonging to Ecclesisticall affairs, they made choice of two, WILLIBRORD that went to Rome, and SWIBERT that came into England, both to be advanced to the Episcopal dignity. S. SWIBERT was consecrated Bishop on S. BARTHOLOMEWS' day, by the hands of the most excellent flower of the Benedictine order WILFRIDE Bishop of York, who then wrongfully expelled from his bishopric, led a private life in the Kingdom of Mercia or Middle England. This done, our holy SWIBERT adorned with episcopal authority, & fortified with the comfortable speeches of S. WILFRID, returned again to Utreight He i● famous over the country courageously to follow on his pious enterprise, adorning his new received dignities, with a new list of virtues, behaving himself from hence forth with great humility, meekness, simplicity, justice, and all other degrees of perfection: and making these virtues (as it were) the baits to take and win souls out of the deluge of Idolatry, to the secure and quiet shore of CHRIST'S Church by the force of his divine learning, and unwearied labour of preaching. Which took so good effect, that in diverse parts of Friesland, and almost all the country of Teisterband, the people were converted to the faith, and many Churches raised and built on the ruins of Idolatry, were consecrated to the service of JESUS-CHRIST. So that S. SWIBERT growing to be of great fame, and estimation in all those countries for his singular virtue, and miracles, and being an amazement to the Pagans, and Pagan priests, it pleased the divine goodness to glorify him more, and more with wonders, to the confusion of the lentils, and great advancement of his Church. VII. FOR being to dedicate a Church at Malsen, in the County of Teisterband, upon the river Linghen, a young gentleman called Splinter van Andengin, desiring out of curiosity to see the rites, and ceremonies which the Christians used in the dedication of Churches, and chief to see SWIBERT their bishop, of whom he had heard such wonders, coming over the river Rhine fell by chance out of the boat & drowned, leaving both the shores full of the fruitless lamentations and tears of his fellows, and servants, that dolefully bewailed their loss. The same day about noon, he was taken up by certain fishers, and brought as dead as a hearing, to Duerstat, to the sorrowful house of his unconsolable parents, who through the persuasion of their Idolatrous Priests caused him to be carried to the Temple of Mars, trusting that he could cure the wound given by Neptune: and to that end they besought his warlike power, with The God mars called upon in vain. many sacrifices, to restore the young man to life; but all in vain. Which his father perceaving, & considering that their poor Gods were not wont to bestow gifts of life so liberally, he was persuaded by some devout Christians, to entreat B. SWIBERT to come to his ay de, who was the likelier to prove, a better Advocate in his behalf, in that matter of life and Death. To him thereforem he went, and falling at his feet, he began to open his misery; when a flood of tears so stopped the current of his discourse, that in them and his sighs the whole force of his eloquence seemed to consist. But the holy Bishop S Swib. entreated to ralsea dead man, refuseth. gathering his meaning out of that doleful speech, was very unwilling to undertake a matter of so great presumption: till overcome with the weeping rhetoric of his importunity, & the prayers of Werenfride, and Marcellin his fellows, he went with him, whom an infinite multitude of people stood expecting on the banks of the River Rhine. When entering the village Duerstat, the doleful mother of the drowned youth, carried beyond all degrees of sorrow, ran to meet him, and falling at his feet in the midst of the street, cried out: O servant of the true God help me, and revive my son by the power of thy God, for our Gods are all too weak to do it. S. SWIBERT applying a salve of comfort to the deep wound of her sorrow went to the house where the dead body was laid: and commanding his fellow-disciples to fall heartily to their prayers, he also betook himself earnestly to his, in the midst of that weeping, multitude of people, and trembling Flamens of the Pagans. His prayer ended he arose, and putting his whole confidence in our Lord JESUS-CHRIST, he said; O thou only comforter of our sadness, who didst once affirm with thy sacred mouth; whosoever believeth joan. 14. v. 12, in me the works that I do, he allsoe shall do, and greater than these he shall do; voutchafe to show the power of thy Divinity, in raising this man from death to life. And taking him by the hand he said: 〈◊〉 He rayseh a dead man to life the name of our Lord JESUS-CHRIST crucified, I bid thee rise, and live, and praise thy creator. At these words he that before was dead, opened his eyes, and waking, as it were, out of a profound sleep, he arose; and embracing the holy Saint, cried out with great sighs; there is no other God in heaven and earth but JESUS-CHRIST crucified whom SWIBERT preacheth. O the wonderful life of this blessed Saint, whose prayers banished death from the body of an other, and spoiled hell of its prey. And presently all the beholders, much astonished with the novelty of this great miracle, highly extolled the divine piety, with loud shouts of joy, and thanksgiving, that daigned to ennoble his servant with so miraculous a remonstrance of his goodness. And the Heathen Priests together with the parents of the new revived youth, and a great multitude of people renouncing the errors of Idolatry, believed in JESUS-CHRIST; so that there were baptised 126. persons besides women, and children. When so great a noise, and clamour was raised in 126. persons converted. the street by the Pagans that desired to see the newly revived young man, that S. SWIBERT (compelled thereunto for the greater honour and glory of God) lead him out amongst them in his hand, as a living trophy of his own virtue, to be seen of all that pressing multitude of people; who when they beheld him walking in the street, with loud shouts, and cries, they made the heavens resound with the Echoes of these words. Great is the God of the Christians. and many believed in CHRIST the worker of miracles, through the persuasion of the holy Bishop, and had their souls revived in the sacred font of baptism. With whom S. SWIBERT remained a good while feeding, and confirming the weakness of their faith, with the solid food of his learning, till the whole village of Duerstat was throughly converted to the truth. VIII. IN the mean time S. WILLIBRORD ordained Bishop of Frizeland by the special authority of Pope Sergius, returned from Rome, and placed his episcopal sea in the town of Vtreight, in a Cathedral Church of Benedictin Monks-Canons; dedicated to S. MARTIN Willibrord Bishop of Vtreight. Bishop of Tours, unto whom the Benedictines were always peculiarly devoted. And Radbod king of Frizeland being dead, the two holy Bishops obtained greater liberty publicly ●opreach the gospel of CHRIST throughout the whole country, whereby their holy labours took so good effect, that the county of Teisterband, almost all Holland, & a great part of neither Friesland, were awaked out of the sleeping blindness of Idolatry to behold the clear light of CHRIST'S holy gospel. Which done, and all those parts well grounded, and settled in the Catholic faith, S. SWIBERT took leave of S. WILLIBRORD & all the Church of Vtreight, & went with some others to spread the seed of the gospel in Westphalie, and lower Saxony, where he reduced many from the madness of Paganism to the sweet peace of Christ's Church, destroying as he went all Idols, & erecting Christian Churches, out of their ruins. And hither unto he had for his companion B. Marcellin the author of his life, who now returned back into Frizeland, when S. Swibert went on to Minimigard, now called Monster, S Swibert cureth the Palsy, and Squinancy where preaching allsoe the Cath. faith with his accustomed zeal and fervour, he converted many thereunto, and cured a woman in the same town that had been long sick of a most cruel palsy. And in memory of the fact, the same woman built a chapel hard by her house in honour of S. PAUL the Apostle, on whose feast she was healed. Likewise he restored to health an other named Adelbert that lay mortally sick of a disease, called the Squinancy, or swelling in the throat, whereby he and many others were converted to the faith. Afterwards returning again to Monster, at the earnest request of the people of that town, by the way he gave sight to a blind man with the sign of the holy cross, that asked alms of passengers; All his miracles still increasing the number of the Christian flock. IX. HAVING within a short time converted many infidels in Monster, he went into Saxony, and first at the city of Brunswick, he preached, and converted many. In the same town there was a noble man sick of so cruel a disease in his jest side, that he was not able to move hand or foot of that part of his body, nor had any use of his left eye. His sickness had already given the Note the virtue of the holy Cross. foil to all antidotes, and art of physic, when S. SWIBERT with the sign of the holy Cross (the chief arms of our redem ption) restored him to perfect health again: which miracle caused many to forsake their Idolatry, and hasten to be washed in the sacred font of Baptism. Hereuppon the blind ministers of those blind Gods, were exceedingly incensed against the holy Bishop, and assembling the people together went with a great troop of Pagans to the chief officer of the town, complaining and exclaiming, that unless the public enemy of their Gods, who with witchcraft and sorcery seduced the people, were banished, the whole town would fall from their ancient profession, and perish. But the officer, being allied to the noble man before cured by S. SWIBERT, favoured him, and his proceed in all things: and now persuaded him to save himself from their fury by flight. Which he did (leaving one Priest there to confirm the new Christians in their faith) and traveled himself through diverse provinces, still holding on his course of preaching, converting, and baptising. Till at length the Heathens together with S Swib cruelly beaten by the Pagans. their hellish ministers, perceaving their religion to go down by the preaching of this holy man, ran violently upon him one day as he was in his sermon, and cruelly beat him with staffs, and buffeted and kicked him, with their fists, and heels, that had he not been relieved by the valour of some true hearted Christians, he had been likely enough to have perished in that skirmish of cruelty. But being delivered out of their hands, he lay hid for some few days yet not ceasing from his holy trade of preaching, so that daily more and more stray sheep, were brought into the secure fold of CHRIST'S Church. X. AT THE same time, in a town called Welsenberch, lived a rich and potent man named Ethelhere, who before had been one of the first and forwardest to set upon S. SWIBERT with his staff, and now for his punishment was hideously possessed by the devil, He delinereth a possessed person. that daily most cruelly tormented him, and by him, all that came nigh, so that they were constrained to bind him fast in chains of iron. But saint SWIBERT coming thither at the entreaty of his friends, made the sign of the holy Cross upon him, and presently that hellish Monster was disinherited of his desired habitation. Whereupon it came to pass, that both he, and many more, to the number of forty two besides women, and children, demanding pardon for their former injuries, submitted themselves to the sweet yoke of CHRIST'S glospell, and were baptised. And now this glorious saint having for the space of many years preached CHRIST to these Barbarous people, wrought many miracles to confirm what he preached, destroyed their Idols, and built many Churches for the service of almighty God, compelled partly by reason of war, and tumult raised in that country, but chief moved by divine revelation, he retired himself to the city of Cullen, where he was joyfully entertained by the virtuous Heretire●h himself to Cullen. Duchess Plectrude, wife to the Christian Prince Pepin, who highly honouring, and admiring the venerable sanctity, and virtue of S. SWIBERT, detained him with her for some time, to make use of his pious counsel in the guiding of her own soul. During which time, the holy Saint cured a great man of Duke Pippins, of a dangerous, and mortal disease in the throat: and delivered an other that was cruelly possessed with the devil. These, and other his excellent signs of heavenly sanctity, moved the religious Duchess Plectrude to send him with letters of high commendation to Duke Pepin, then remaining in Herstall, entreating him withal to give the town of Werdt upon Rhine to S. SWIBERT, to build a monastery in. Pepin received him with great joy, and honour, and kept him a Pepin besteweth words upon S. Swibert. while with him to be by him instructed in the rules of good life. And at length, gave him not only the town of Werdt, but allsoe good store of gold, and silver to defray the charge of building the monastery. Therefore S. SWIBERT returned back to the Duchess, by whose power, and industry he began presently to erect a monastery in Werdt upon Rhine, to the honour of the glorious, and ever B. Virg. MARIE. Where with how great humility, devotion, and zeal, in the mean time he preached the faith of CHRIST among those rude people, and with how great purity of mind, and body, he celebrated daily the dreaful Sacrifice of Mass, and other divine offices, it excelleth this weak quill to rehearse. And there he raised an other from death to life. XI. AT length the monastery being finished, he placed therein a He gathereth a convent of Benedictin monks. Convent of Monks of the Sacred Order of S. BENEDICT out of whose holy rule himself (as is said) had first sucked the sweet milk of a religious life. But in the beginning (because it was to consist chiefly of Novices both in faith, and virtue, that came thither moved with the great fame of his sanctity to be brought up in the right way of good life) he was not so strict, and rigorous) in prescribing them the laws of regular discipline, following the words of our Savi our: My yoke is sweet, and my burden light. But himself with certain other old beaten disciples of his, led a fare more Math. 11. rigid, and austere kind of life, thereby to draw the young beginners by little, and little, to the same straightness of monastical discipline. In the mean time S. SWIBERT ceased not daily to preach to those rude stiffe-nekt people, whereby main were converted to the faith, and baptised. He was wonderfully inclined to give alms, a great contemner of worldly pomp, & vanities with hope of eternal rewards, his mind was aspiring in nothing but to the love of God, the kingdom of heaven, and heavenly things; and therefore he was specially endowed by God with so many divine gifts, virtues, and graces, whereby he appeared most grateful to the whole world, and shined as a precious gem amidst his monastical clergy. And as among the Gentiles he wrought famous deeds for the advancement of the holy Gospel, our lord himself cooperating, and confirming his speech with Mar. 16. signs (of diverse miracles) following; so likewise in his monastery at Werdt he worthily profitted both himself, and others in the continual exercise of monastical rule, and discipline, daily proceeding from virtue, to virtue, to come to the clear vision of the God of Gods in Zion. Psal. ●3. v. 7. At length when he had most worthily governed his monastery the space of three years, almighty God the superabundant reward of his servants, who through a corporal death translateth the lively stones of his Church to his heavenly building, voutchafed to call this glorious champion of the Catholic faith S. SWIBERT, out of this He falleth sick. earthly conflict, to receive the everflorishing crown of his labours in heaven. For in the year of our lord 717. replenished with all manner of virtues, and good works, burning from the very bottom of his heart with an extreme desire to enjoy the vision of almighty God, on the feast of S. PETER'S chair in February, having celebrated the dreadful sacrifice of the Altar, he was taken with a grievous disease, which confined him to his bed; and feeling it daily grow more, and more upon him, he assembled his Convent of Monks together, & with a dieing voice admonished them to remain in the true observance of mutual love, and charity, and of monastical and regular discipline, letting them know withal that the hour of his departure was near at hand. Which words, caused a shower of tears to bear witness in them, how dearly they loved, and what a grief is was to them to be separated from so good and pious a Father. But he cheering them up, said; They ought rather to rejoice then weep for that he was going to receive the most glorious reward of his labours, desiring them to arm the departure of his frailty with the charitable duty, and protection of their prayers. At length the happy hour being come, he caused mass to be celebrated before him, encompassed round with his holy monks, and strengthening himself with the sacred viaticum of His happy death. our Lord's body, he gave his benediction to all the assistance, and in a sweet sleep of death, gave up his blessed soul into the hands of his create our. His face seemed presently to shine with beams of glory, and the chamber was replenished with most sweet, and comfortable perfumes, to the great joy, and admiration of the assistants. He died in the threescore and ninth year of his age, the first day of March, being friday, at noon, the same hour that the Saviour of the world reviving us sinners with his bitter death and passion, laid open the gates of heaven unto us. XII. HIS holy body being placed in the midst of the Church, Miracles at his dead body. whilst the monks executed his funeral office, one possessed with the devil, by touching the bier whereon he lay, was perfectly delivered from that hellish guest. And by the same means, and at the same time, a blind man recovered his sight, and one that was quite mad was restored to the perfect use of his senses, to the great joy, and comfort of the beholders. The sunday following with great devotion and solemnity his sacred body was committed to a house of clay, by S. WILLIBRORD Archbishop of Vtrieght, and S. WILLEICK his companion, in the Church of his own Monastery at Werdt. Many other miracles done at his tomb are very authentically recorded by S. MARCELLINE, which for brevity's sake me omit. Only one I will briefly rehearse, of which, (as of all that hath been said) the same author S. Marceline was an eyewitness. XIII. A YOUNG man of Werdt called Sweder chancing to dine in the company of some wicked Westphalians at a Pag● town named S 〈…〉, the whole discourse of those bacon-fed Wes●phalians grew to be of the generous power of their Pagan-Gods, and the impotency of CHRIST the God of the Christians, which Sweder, who was a Christian not able to endure, very honestly began to rehearse in his defence the virtues, and miracles which our Lord had, wrought & did daily work at Werdt by the merits of S. SWIBERT. The Pagans (whose heads were now a little too full of the virtues, and strength of their God Bacchus) finding Sweder to be a Christian, rose up in great fury against him, and having with many blows laid on his back, and sides, made him feel some part of the strength their gods had given them, they cut out his tongue, that had been so nimble in praising the God of the Christians, hoping thereby to get themselves crowns of bays from their own Gods. This done, they returned diverse strucken blind for biasphemie. in jovial triumph to their dinner, where as in their winie conference they vomited many opprobrious blasphemies against CHRIST, and his holy Bishop S. SWIBERT, they were suddenly strucken with blindness, and the loaves of bread before them (which they could not see) were turned into so many stones. Whilst poor Sweder, the enemy of their gods, lay as a miserable creature in the dirty streets, wallowing in his own blood, being not able (for want of a tongue) to call for any help in his misery; but in heart he devoutly prayed unto S. SWIBERT for the conversion of those blasphemous Heathens: who now finding (but not seeing) that the revengeful God of the Christians had given them a remembrance of his power, they began with repentant tears to call upon S. SWIBERT for aid, desiring withal to have the poor Christian, whom so roughly they had handled, to be brought in, to demand of him pardon for their fault. But no man gave ear to their crying, all the servants of the house running out like so many mad things, terribly amazed at such an unusual accident. And the captain blasphemer of all the Host, blinded not only in corporal sight, but in mind too, began to curse both God, and man. This miracle published by the clamours of that blind company, drew all the neighbours, and a great part of the city thither to be spectators of that miraculous tragedy. At length some friends of the Host took up poor Sweder out of the dirt, and brought him before that blinded crew. When it was a rare spectacle to behold seven blind men (for so many they were) fall down upon their knees, and with blind tears crave pardon of him, whom themselves had made so dumb that by word of mouth he could not answer their petition, but by signs; and by signs he did: withal persuading them by writing to forsake their Idolatry, and use means to go along with him to Werdt, where at S. SWIBERTS Are restored to sight at S. Swiberts? Tomb. tomb they should undoubtedly recover their former sight. On the morrow they took their journey towards Werdt, in a waggon, accompanied with the Hosts wife, and some of his kinsfolks, who brought with them the loaves turned into stones. Being all come to the holy tomb, Sweder made a mental prayer to the holy saint, recommending himself, and those wretched souls to his piety. Unto whom (as he prayed) S. SWIBERT visibly appeared, and anointing his mouth with a straying ointment, he perfectly recovered him to his speech, most devoutly breaking out into the loud praises of almighty God, and his Saint. When the blind men heard the young man speak, and praise SWIBERT for the recovery of his language they began to conceive greater confidence to have their cause heard, and therefore earnestly imploring the help of CHRIST, and his blessed Saint, presently they had their fight miraculously restored, to the great joy and admiration of their friends that were present. The loaves of bread, or rather the stones of bread, they left at the sepulchre in memory of the miracle, as trophies of SWIBERTS glory. And they themselves, staying there three days, were converted to the faith, and baptised, and by that means cured of a double blindness. But returning to their own town again, their clear seeing, was cause that many Pagans were made to see their own blindness, and for●ake their Idolatry. God grant that this example may so withhold our daily contemners, of God's Saints from their wicked practice of blasphemy, that seeing their own errors, they may gi●e due honour to God, and his Saints, in whom he is always glorious, and wonderful. Amen. In the year of our lord 803. S. SWIBERT was canonised by Pope Leo the third then present in person at Werdt, and eyewitness of some miracles done, together with the Emperor Charles the Great, who gave many rich gifts unto the monastery. And the feast of his Canonization and exaltation of his holy body, is celebrated in Germany on the fourth day of September. Besides the foresaid S. MARCELINE, S. LUDGER Bishop of Monster in an epistle written to RIXFRID Bishop of Vtreieght, maketh worthy mention of S. SWIBERT, and reciteth many miracles done at his tomb. All●oe S. BEDE lib. 〈◊〉. c. 〈◊〉. TRITHEMIUS of the famous men of S. benedict's order 3. book. chap. 165. BARONIUS tom. 8. & 9 HARPSFIELD saec. 8. cap. 4. the ROMAN Martirologe, and others d●e largely speak his praises. The life of Saint DAVID Bishop and Confessor. MAR. 1. Written by Kentigerne Bishop. S. DAVID borne of the noble race of ancient Brittanes, and uncle to famous Prince Arthur; was revealed unto S. PATRICK Apostle of Ireland thirty years before his birth. Being brought up from his infancy in piety, and learning, he was a child of so great towardness, that he fare excelled all his fellows in both. His masters were S. ILTUTE, and one Pauline both famous▪ men in virtue, and learning; whose footsteps, like a good scholar, were so faithfully imitated by this worthy youth that he not only paralleled them, but in his time went far beyond them both in the discipline of divine religion, and secular learning. He kepp close in the study of holy His study of holy scripture. scripture for the space of ten year●s before he would presume to make himself public to the world, in the instruction of others. When at length, like a fair ship laden with the ballast of a well grounded virtue, and fraught with the treasure of admirable knowledge, and learning, he floated with full sails over the world, with the favourable wind of great fame, and renown; daily manuring the sacred vineyard of our lord, and sounding the hearts of his people, with the fervent, and flourishing eloquence of his exhortations, and sermons. By which and his unmatchable piety, he utterly ruined, dissolved, He vanquisheth the Pelagian horesie. and extinguished the rebellion of the Pelagian heresy, which in those days began to take head, & clearly purged all the stinking dregs, and corruption thereof, out of the hearts of that people. That we may boldly say he was sent into this world by the particular providence of almighty God, who always hath care of his faithful flock, to be such a Pastor thereof, who with his admirable, and almost incredible works, and miracles should preserve, and deliver his Church, from the diabolical infection of this pestiferous heresy. II. Amongst other worthy scholars, and followers of his learning, and virtue, the most famous were these Saints▪ Aidan, Paternus, and Th●lian, who endeavoured as fare as they were able, to perfect themselves by his holy manner of life, & virtues. With these he traveled over the country, always preaching, and teaching the people as he went. He built many monasteries, for the habitation of such as desired to live a more retired life. At the place now called Glastenburie, he built a Church new from the ground. And coming He built Glasteuburie Church thence to Bath, he cured the infection of the waters thereabouts, and with his holy prayers, and benediction gave them a perpetual heat, and made them very healthful, a●d soweraigne for many diseases ever after, as to this present day is experienced, to the wonderful comfort, and commodity of all England. Coming at length with his company, which was no small one, to Me●e●ia in Pembrookshire, he began to build a monastery in that place, fare from all worldly tumults, meaning to make it his principal abode whilst he remained in this mortal life. But the devil, who from the beginning was an envious hinderer of monks, and monasteries, stirred up a wicked member of his, a Tiran of that country called Baia, with A Tiran plotteth his death. his complices, to put the holy man, and his company to death. And by the way as they went to the execution of this mischief, he and his fellows were suddenly shaken with such cruel fevers, that they were not able to perform their wicked intentions. When in the mean time, the wife of this ring leader of mischief, comes crying after them with news of greater misery; that an infectious disease was suddenly fallen among their cattle, which killed them so fast, that she feared, if some aid were not gotten, they should quickly have more empty hides than beasts. Whereupon, they resolved to return to the servant of God, and humbly to Who 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 stly punished. implore his assistance, both for themselves, and their cattle. Which done, they obtained their desire, and in recompense, and acknowledgement of that benefit, the Tiran gave unto S. DAVID all th●t Valley where the Cathedral Church of Menenia now stands, for the use of him, and his fellows, and successors for ever. III. BUT THIS Tirans wife could not so soon depose her malice, for meaning with a devilish practice to ruin the chastity of those poor monks, she sent a lascivious company of naked wenches, to exercise all manner of uncivil embracings, and wanton actions in their sight, which made some of their minds begin to stagger with so evident a temptation, others, to be a little troubled, and indeed all being impatient of such an immodest injury, cried out unto saint DAVID to be gone out of the fight, and reach of so foul a sight. You know (replied the holy man) that the world hates us. And you must know allsoe A good lesson. that the people of ISRAEL travelling to the land of Promise with the holy Ark of covenant, were resisted with continual dangers, and battles, and yet not overcome, but through all their journey, remained victorious over that incircumcised people, which doth manifestly betoken the triumph we must have in these our conflicts. For he that seeketh to enjoy the promise of the heavenly Paradise, the true land of Promise, must necessarily be assailed, but not vanquished, with the battery of temptations, and adversities until by the assistance of CHRIST his chief Captain, he shall utterly have ruined, and overthrown all the unclean bulwarks of vice, and inquitie. Therefore we must not be overcome with evil, but overcome evil with goodness, for if CHRIST he with us, who dare stand against us? Be valiant then (my dear brethren) in this conflict, and let not our enemies take joy in your flight. iv HAVING thus encouraged their minds, he built up the monastery, He buildeth a Monastery. and ordered it with good laws, and rules of monastical discipline. Where every one lived by the labour of his own hands, rightly following that apostical rule, He that will not labour, let him 2. Thes. c. 3 v. 10. The manner of life of the ancient Monks. not eat. And after their labour, at set hours they fell to their. prayers, meditations, and reading of holy Scripture: which done, again they fettled to their labours, never tasting any food till the stars appeared in the sky, when their ordinary diet, was so fare from all delights, that only bread, herbs, and pure water were the chiefest dainties, which quenched their hunger, and thirst. After a sleight refreshing herewith, they returned again to their prayers, then to their rest, whence they were raised at the first crowing of the Cock, and prolonged their prayers until the morning, when with the rising of the sun, all betook themselves to their day-labour. By this means they gave the world not only a worthy proof, and example of all manner of virtue, and continency, but allsoe of liberality. For although they would not take any thing given them, but with much difficulty, yet were they so fare from want of necessaries, that by their own labour, and toil, they succoured the necessities of very many poor orphans, pupils, widows, and pilgrims. In sum, in their manner of living, they were lively patterns of the Apostolical life of those ancient fathers, which lived at Alexandria under the institution of S. MARK the Evangelist. V S. DAVID was the governor, and Precedent of this holy company, not only in authority, and dignity, but by his own due deserts; For he would impose nothing upon others which himself refused to undergo. Nay by how much he was above them in dignity, by so much he excelled them all, in the greatness, and continuance of diligence, continence, fasting, and prayers and the most exact observance of all religious offices, and duties. S. David chosen Archbis hop of the Britain's. After matin's when the rest of his Monks returned to their beds, hiscuston was to enter into the cold water, to extinguish the unlawful heat of his body. At length, the excellence of his virtues being carried over the world with the wings of fame, by the common suffrages of the country he was chosen Archbishop of all Wales: and so great honour bestowed upon him, that the Metropolitan sea, which till then had been at Chester, was for his sake translated to Menenia, now called Saint David's. In this dignity he behaved himself so worthily, that he became a rule, and form of good life to all. He was the food of the poor, the life of orphans, cloth to the naked, the School of the ignorant a Father to his country, and an Example to his monks. VI THE miracles which he wrought in his life were such and so admirabler that the incredulity of these our times doth not deserve to hear or read them; and therefore we will only relate one, which is, that as he preached upon a time against the Pelagians abroad under no other canopy but heaven, such an infinite of people were gathered to hear his sacred eloquence, that the holy preacher could not be seen but of a few, on a sudden the earth whereon he stood swelled up in form of a little hill, and raised him to such a height, that to the wonderful great comfort and admiration of his auditors, he was both seen, and heard of then all. And in memory hereof a little chapel was built upon the same hill, which is said to remain unto these our days. VI AT LENGTH this blessed Bishop the great patron, and Protector His glorious death. of the Britan's, having governed his Church many years in great sanctity, and virtue of life, till he came to the age of one hundred forty seven years, & then understanding by revelation the day & hour of his departure out of this world, from that time he ever lived in the Church in continual prayer and preaching until that long desired happy minute was come in which he yielded up his blessed soul into the hands of his redeemer, who together with whole quires of angels, came in person happily to receive him, and gloriously to lead him, into the never dying joys of his heavenly Kingdom. He was buried at Menevia in his own Church, which although at first it was dedicated to the Apostle saint ANDREW, yet afterwards, by reason of the great fame this saint had in those places, and so many wonderful miracles and signs of holiness, it took the name of S. DAVID'S, as it is called at this very day. He died about the year 550. the first day of March, which day not only in Wales, but all England over, is most famous in memory of him. But in these our unhappy days the greatest part of his solemnity consisteth in wearing of a green leek, & it is a sufficient theme for a zealous Welshman to ground a quarrel against him, that doth not honour his cap with the like ornament that day. VII. THE miracles which were wrought by his merits, after his death are such, & so many, that they fare exceed the limits of this short discourse: we will only relate some, which have the testimony of an eyewitness to prove them true. In the reign of King Stephen Gyrald. Cambr. in Topogr. Camb. I●●uers miracles. the brook which runs above the Churchyard of Menevia, or S. DAVID'S, flowed with wine: and the same time, out of a Well or fountain there, called Pisteldewy, that is, the Conduit of David, sprang forth a great quantity of milk. And this is reported by him, that lived at the fame time, and most exactly was acquanited with the matters of that country. A little portable bell called S. DAVID'S, Note a strange miracle. was of great fame and admiration in Wales: which when the soldiers presumed to retain at the Castle of Raidnock, contrary to the desire of a woman that brought it, suddenly the night following the whole town was devoured with fire, the wall only excepted where that bell was hanged. A boy that endeavoured to take young pigeons out of a nest in S. DAVID'S Church of Lhanuaos, had his fingers so fastened to the stone, that he could by no means get lose. All much amazed at this miracle, specially his parents and friends, who together with the boy before the altar of the same Church gave themselves to continual watching, fasting, and prayer the space of three days, & as many nights; when to the great joy of all, the stone fell from his hand. The Author of this story, not only lived at the same time, but both saw, and spoke to the man to whom it happened, who confessed himself that it was so. And which is more, that stone being conserved in the Church, remained as an everlasting witness of the miracle, with the plain form of his fingers imprinted in it, as in a piece of wax. VIII. MANY thousands of other miracles have been wrought by the merits of this holy man, both in his life, and after his death, which for brevity's sake me omit. And here now could I willingly enter into a large field of this holy Saint's praises, did not fear of being over tedious withould my pen, as unworthy to be the trumpet of the same of so renowned a man. I will only desire all true hearted Welshmen always to honour this their great Patron and Protector and humbly desire him, that as in his life time, he overthrew with his learning all the bulwarks of the Palagian heresy, so now with his prayers, and intercession to almighty God, he would supplicate the divine Goodness to cast a merciful eye upon his people, and reduce his sometimes beloved country, out of the Blindness of protestancy, grovelling in which it languisheth more lamentably, then ever it did in the former error, that once again those hills and valleys may resound with the Echoes of Gods divine praises, sung in such monastical quires, as have been the ornaments there of in former ages, and now are only the sad monuments of their ancient glory. God of his infinite mercy, by the intercession of this glorious Saint, give strength to those few that are in the truth so to remain, and grace to the rest to acknowledge the same truth, and forsake their present errors. The life of S. David was written by S. Kentigerne but whether the same be extant it is uncertain. joannes Anglicus, and Giraldus Cambrensis, have written the same allsoe, out of whom, and Nicholas Harpsfield me have gathered the foresaid history. Many other authors make worthy mention of him. The life of Saint CHAD Bishop, and Confessor, of the holy order of S. BENEDICT. MARTINO 2. Gathered out of Venerable Bede de gest. Ang. SAINT CHADDE borne in Northumberland, brother to S. CEDDE Bishop of London (of whom you may read the seaventh of January) was at first scholar unto S. AIDAN Bishop of Lindisfarne, in whose virtuous school he made a great progress, in learning, and good manners, being always very careful to execute in deed, whatsoever he learned by study. In his youth he went into Jreland where tohgeather with S. EGBERT, he led a strict monastical life in continual continency, exercising himself with great diligent in the pious art of prayer, and meditation of the holy scripture Returning into England, (after that famous controversy, betweeve S. WILFRID the Benedictine monk and Bishop Colman concerning the due celebration of Easter, and other Church-rites, was decided, together with his brother S. CEDDE he received the rule of our holy father S. BENEDICT, and succeeded his brother in the government of the Benedictine Abbey of Lesting in Yorkshire. Which charge he discharged with great sanctity, and example of good life, till in the year of our Lord 664. when S. WILFRID being chosen Bishop of York, and sent into France to be consecrated by the Bishop of Paris, stayed so long beyond the seas that Saint CHADD, by the means of king Oswy, was consecrated; and installed in the Episcopal sea of York, by the hands of Wini Bishop of the Westsaxons, and the only He is cousecrated Bishop of York. Bishop lawfully ordained Bishop extant then in England. II. SAINT CHAD being advanced to this height of dignity, began presently to make the piety, and virtue of his life correspond to the eminency of his sacred function, bending all his endeavours for the conserving of the Ecclesiastical verity, and ordinances of the Catholic Church, and making his own daily exercise, a true pattern of devotion, humility, and continency, unto his subjects. He was wont to read much, preach often, & travel abroad (after the true Apostolical manner) always on foot from town, and village, piously furnishing the whole country with the sacred doctrine of CHRIST'S gospel. At length, S. THEODORE being consecrated Archbishop of Canturbury, made a visit over the Churches of England, correcting as he went whatsoever he found amiss, when amongst the rest he chanced to rebuke S. CHAD as not lawfully consecrated. See the wonderful humility of the Saint! If thou His great humility. knowest (answered he very modestly) that I have not rightly undertaken the bishopric, I most willingly give up my office, for indeed I always judged myself fare unworthy thereof, and it was mere obedience which forced me at first to take this sacred charge upon me. But THEODORE being overcome with the resigned humility of this answer, replied that it was not necessary to leave his bishopric, but only to have his instalment approved after the Catholic manner. But S. CHAD after three year's government of that sea, being more desirous of a private, and quiet life, resigned up the Bishopric unto S. WILFRID, and returned again to his beloved solitude, in the monastery of Lesting, where he remained in the continual exercise of piety, till Wulser King of the Mercians desiring the assistance of a Bishop in his country, Theodore of Canturbury, He is made Bishop of the mercians who would not grant him a new one, obtained of Oswy King of the Northumber's to have S. Chad sent into Mercia. And because it was all ways S. CHADS' custom (as we have said) to travel on foot to preach, and teach the gospel, S. THEODORE finding him to be a very holy man, commanded him hereafter to perform his longer journeys on horseback, and he himself lifted him on his horse, and forced him, (who out of the desire and love of his pious labour on foot, made great resistance) to ride where soever his occasions should call him. III. BEING therefore installed in the bishopric of the Mercians, and Lindisfarne, he endeavoured according to the example of the ancient fathers, and masters of virtue, to administer his office with admirable great perfection of life, and example. The King Wulfere admiring the sainctity of the man, gave him in the province of Lindisfarne or Lincoln the lands, & possessions of fifty families, for the erecting of a monastery. He held his episcopal seat at Lichfied, where, for his own private use, he built a place not fare distant from the Church, in which together with seven or eight of his monks, he was wont more secretly and earnestly to exercise himself in devout prayer, meditation, and reading holy scripture, at such times as his ordinary employments and labour of preaching, and divine service did give him leave. But amongst many other his notable examples of A notable example. virtue, and piety, he bore in heart such a lively impression of the fear of God, (which the royal prophet calls, the beginning of wisdom) Psal. 110. v. 9 & was in all his works so mindful of the terrible & dreadful day of judgement, that whensoever there arose a more vehement, and violent blast of wind, and tempest, he would strait fall most earnestly to his prayers: and if the storm were such that it were accompanied with the terror of boisterous thunder, or lightning, he would instantly get into the Church, and never cease from praying, and reading of psalms, until the heavens were cleared from those tempestuous commotions. Being demanded the Psal. 17. v 15. 16. A good Lesson. reason hereof: Have you not read (answered he) that our Lord hath thundered from heaven, & the most high hath sent forth his voice: He threw his darts, and dispersed the people; he redoubled his lightnings, and troubled them. For our Lord shaketh the air, stirreth up winds, darteth lightnings, and thunderbolts from heaven, to stir up mortals to fear him, to give them a remembrance of his dreadful judgement to come; that he may overthrew their pride, confound their presumption, by putting them in mind of that terrible hour, wherein, heaven and earth being on fire, he will come with mighty power; and majesty to judge the living and the dead. It is our parts therefore to correspond to these his heavenly admonitions, with the duty of fear, and love; that as often as, by such violent commotions of the air, and heavens, he lifteth up his threatening hand to strike, and yet doth not let fall his blow upon us, we ought strait humbly to implore his mercy, and by a diligent discussion of the secret closetts of our hearts, to purge them from all uncleanness of vice, lest at any time we be strucken unawares. With these terrible remembrances did this blessed Saint endeavour to sharpen the minds of his monks, and other subjects, to give them a greater appetite to follow the sweete-hard way of virtue, and good works. iv AT LENGTH when he had most gloriously governed his Bishopric for the space of two years, and a half, some days before his holy departure out of this world, that happy minute was revealed unto him. For being one day alone in his oratory, a holy monk of his called Owen heard a most ravishing consort of celestial tunes The Vision of a certain Monk. over and about the place where the Bishop prayed, whinch dured for the space of half an hour. After this the holy man opened his window, and with a knock (as his custom was) called some from without unto him. Owen, whose office it was to attend upon him, entered into his chamber, whom he sent to call the rest of his brethren, who were but seven. Then he admonished them faithfully to conserve the virtues of love, and peace with one and other; and with an untired diligence to follow and observe the rules of regular The day of his departure is re 〈…〉 led unto him. discipline, which he had planted amongst them. For (said he) the day of my departure is near at hand, that beloved guest which was wont to visit our brethren, voutchafed allsoe this very day to give me, warning of my long desired end. Desire then the rest of our brethren to recommend my departure, in their prayers to almighty God; always remembering with fasting, prayer, and good works to prepare themselves for their own end, the time whereof is so uncertain. But the rest being departed out of the chamber, the holy monk Owen, who had seen, and heard the vision above mentioned, fell prostrate at the blessed Bishops feet, humbly entreating him to declare the meaning of those heavenly ditties, which that holy troop of angels sung over his oratory. Indeed (answered he) those blessed spirits came to summon me to the holy court of heaven, there to receive the unspeakable rewards, which so long I have aspired unto, and after seven days are past; they have promised to return to fetch me thither. But I command thee in the name of our Lord, that thou presume not to reveal this vision before my death. And it fell out according to this reuclation, for the seaventh day after he yielded up his pure soul to the hands of his redeemer. At which very instant one Egbert a monk saw S. CEDDE S. Cedde cometh in glory to mecte him. his brother encompassed with a blessed troop of angels, descend from the celestial vaults, and carry up the unspotted soul of this glorious Bishop, into the everlasting joys of the heavenly Kingdom. He died the second day of, March, and was buried first near to the Church of our Lady, but afterwards, a Church being erected there to the Prince of the Apostles saint PETER, his sacred bones were translated into it; in both which places for the greater testimony of his virtues many, miraculous cures of diseases were wrought. V A MAD man, who lead by the lightness of his frantic brain A mad man cureed at his tomb ran wand'ring up and down, happened one evening (as it were to stumble happily on that place, unawares of the watchmen that kept it, and having rested there all that night, in the morning, to the great admiration, and joy of all, he made known by the soundness of his wit and understanding, that he had there received the cure of his madding frenzy. The place of his burial is enclosed with a wooden chest, which hath a hole on the one side through which those that came thither for devotion, were wont to reach forth some of the dust, and having dissolved it in water, it cured both man, and beast that drank it, of what disease soever they were infected. The life of this B. Saint we have gathered chief out of S. Bedes History of England. john Capgrane hath the same in his lines of English Saints. Trithemius, in his treatise of the famous men of S. benedict's order lib. 3. cap. 117. Arnould Wion, Baronius, Camden and others make worthy mention of him. In the Provincial Constitutions of England his feast is ordained to be celebrated with nine lessons, and so it was observed in the Sarum Breviarie. But since Breviaries were made treason in England, all goodness was banished the Psal. 150. v. 1. public view of that unhappy Country, and God (whom the Psalmist bids us to praise in his Saints) is deprived of his due honour, and glory, and his Saints are quite rob of their part therein. The life of Saint WILLEICK Priest, and Confessor monk of the holy order of S. Benedict. MAR. 2. Out of Marceline in the life of S. Swibert. S. WILLEICK borne in England went over into lower Germany, S. Willeick a Monk-Canon of Vtteicht in low Germany. where together which S. SWIBERT, and other English Benedictine Monks he preached CHRIST'S gospel to the Pagans, and converted many to the true faith. He was one of the first Monk-Canons of the new Cathedral Church of Vtrei●ght, where, he who had left the world with a pure intention, so sincerely endeavoured to perfect himself in the service of CHRIST JESUS, that he appeared as a sweet vessel of virtues to the rest of his brethren. For from his youth he had lived always with the great S. SWIBERT, in the continual exercise of prayer, continency, and meditation of the holy scriptures, ever striving to make himself as pure wax, to receive the impression, and seal of that worthy Saint's virtues. He was skilful in holy scriptures, and well practised in the Latin, and Dutch tongue: very cloquent in his discourse, but meek, and humble in his behaviour, a conqueror of wrath, and covetousness, a despiser of pride, and vain glory, and a comfortable father to the poor, and sickly. For whom carefully to provide, he was inclined not only out of an innate piety of mind, but made that appear by his great labour, and pains taken in providing, and succouring their necessities himself. He converted allsoe many Heathens, through the Provinces as he traveled, from the venom of Idolatry, to the sweetness of CHRIST faith. II. AFTERWARDS being made Prior of S. SWIBERTS Benedictine monastery at Werdt, he became a true mirror, and pattern of all He is made Prior of the Monastery of Werdt. true virtues to his brethren, whereby many by his example, and authority, were kerbed within the rules of a regular life. Neither was he profitable with his virtues, and good example to the monastery only, but by his devout exhortations, and pious sermons, he converted the neighbouring people from the sottish customs of their Idolatrous life, to the love of CHRIST, & heavenly things. And the greatness of his virtue, and merit was testified by miracle. For being on a time at Cullen with the most devout Duchess Plectrude (of whom mention is made in the life of S. SWIBERT) one Gothebald a chief man of the town lay languishing under the pitiless burden of such a cruel disease, that deprived of all use of his limbs, he seemed indeed to be quite dead; when his funeral rites were already prepared, and his grave gaped to receive him. In the mean time Marie (that was his wife's name) obtained of the Duchess to have Willeick the disciple, and priest of great S. SWIBERT to come visit He cureth a sick-man. that diing man. Who coming into the chamber; and having made his prayers to almighty God, he gave him his benediction; when presently the sick man arose in perfect health out of his bed, gave thanks to the supreme giver of all goodness, and sat at table with the rest in great joy, and alacrity, and S. Willeick (whose company he much desired) could hardly be drawn from his devotions of thanks giving to take his repast with the rest. Hereuppon the devout Duchess Plectrude held this holy man in fare greater honour, and esteem, than before, yielding infinite praises to the omnipotent worker of wonders. But S. WILLEICK, having governed his monastery His death. the space of thirteen years in all, ten after the death of his master S. SWIBERT, in great holiness of life and conversation, gave up his blessed soul to the never-dieing rewards of his labours, to bear a part in the choir of Benedictin Monks in heaven. He died the second day of March, in the year of Our Lord 727. At whose tomb in testimony of his virtues, and holy life, were wrought main miraculous cures of diseases. Of him make mention, besides the foresaid Marcelline, Trithemius in his 3. book and 167. chap. of the famous men of S. benedict's Order, Molanus in his additions to Vsuard, Wion in his Benedictine Martirologe, and others. The life of Saint WINWALOKE Abbott, and Confessor. MAR. 3. Gathered by Surius out of ancient manuscripts. SAINT WINWALOKE son to Fracanus' cousin german of Cotton king of the Britons, began from his tender age to give great signs of his ensuing virtue, and good life, despising the pleasures of the world, and wholly bequeathing himself to the divine service of allmigthy God His desire of a devout life. . And the better to put his good purposes, and pious inspirations in execution, he desired leave of his father to go to a holy man of that country, to perfect himself in that divine school in the study of virtue, and learning. But his father, who desired rather to see him advanced to worldy preferment, and honour, flatly denied his godly request. Whereupon this blessed young man appealed to his almighty father in heaven, earnestly craving his assistance in this case. And his prayers were not in vain; for not long after his father being abroad in the plain fields, in a fair sunny day, on the sudden there happened such a horrible tempest of rain, hail, and snow, seconded with the roaring of such dreadful thunder, and flashes of lightning falling thick about him, that strucken with the exceeding terror thereof, he fell flat on the ground, where musing with himself what might be the reason of such an unexpected storm, it came into his mind, that perhaps it was a punishment sent him from God above, for detaining his son in the tempestuous world, out of the sweet haven of his divine His father giveth him to God. service. Hereuppon he bequeathed him in his mind to almighty God at the same instant, and within a week after, went himself in person, and presented him to the charge of a holy man to be instructed according to his own desires. In that good school of united virtue, and learning, WINWALOKE profitted so exceedingly, that in a short time he became very learned in holy scripture, and most devout in the service of almighty God. II. HIS master happening to be absent upon a time the scholars fell to sport, and recreate themselves in the fields, whereby some misfortune one of them chanced to break his leg, which turned By his prayers & the sign of the Cross he cureth a broken thigh. all their mirth into morning, and their play into earnest condoling their fellow's unhappiness. But WINWALOKE, exhorting them to take courage, and comfort, caused the whole company to fall to their prayers for the repairing of this disastrous loss, & he himself hearty beseeched the omnipotent worker of wonders, to grant this their humble request. Which done, he made the sign of the cross on the wound, saying: In the name of our Lord JESUS-CHRIST, rise and give thankes unto almighty God: and at the same instant he arose prefectly cured of his wound, and restored again to the use of his leg, as sound as he was before it was broken. WINWALOKE earnestly desired, and conjured his companions to conceal the miracle in silence, but the will of God was otherwise, whereby it was made known, and public to the world, for the greater honour both of him, and his Saint. III. HE WAS so wonderfully pitiful, & compassionate on the poor, His compassion to the poor. that when he saw them beg an alms, he would sigh, and weep with the grief he suffered in their misery, and not having wherewithal to feed their bodies, he would at with the comfort of his admonitions endeavour to enrich their souls, in which pious exercise he daily employed some part of his time, although he wanted not some wicked spirits, who spitefully reviled, and reproached him for this piety; saying, that he spent the best part of his time idly, amongst lazy beggars. But he took all their blows on the buckler of patience, rendering, sweet words for their rude exclamations, and humble answers for their insulting reproaches. And meeting on a time, among those poor people, with one that was blind, to make known that his service was grateful to God, by his prayers he restored him to perfect sight. iv HE grew at length so perfect in virtue, and learning, that With hallowed oil he cureth on● stung with a serp 〈…〉. from a scholar; he became a master, when many were glad to put themselves into his school, & under his discipline to learn the divine mysteries of the holy scripture. One of his scholars falling asleep in the fields, as he sat musing on his lesson, happrened to be so greivously stung by a venomous serpent, that the poison, dispersing itself over all his body, caused it to swell in a most strange manner, and put him in imminent danger of death. But WNIWALOKE, gining him oileto drink which he himself had hallowed, the swelling was forthwith assuaged, the venom expelled, and the man perfectly cured. Not long after, he understood by revelation, that it was the will of almighty God, that he should departed with some of his associates to live in an other place. Therefore taking leave of his master, he departed with eleven others, not knowing as yet, where to take up his dwelling, but with a firm faith, and confidence in almighty God, he committed himself, and his company to his sacred conduct. At length he arrived into an Island, where together with his disciples for the space of three years, he led a very retired, and solitary life. But finding that place to be very subject to stormy, and tempestuous weather, and withal so barren that it was almost inhabitable, he went to seek an other habitation beyond the sea, whither by a divine revelation he was appointed to go; and there he found a place so fit, and commodious for his purpose, that he settled himself, and his fellows therein, with intention never to stir more while he lived. One discomodity it had, which was want of water, but that his devout prayers supplied, for the indeficient By his prayers he obtaineth a fresh fountain. fountain of all goodness, that made water spring out of the rocks for the Jsraelites, furnished his Servant in this necessity, with an abundant spring of sweet crystal streams. V IN THIS place he began to lead a most celestial, and angelical A summary of his virtues. life, shining unto his scholars like a bright star of devotion virtue, and perfection. He was of a very venerable aspect, sweet, and modest in his discourse, always painful, and unwearied in the service of almighty God; of a pure body, a sincere mind, a sharp wit, a sound judgement, and very provident, and wise in his advice, and counsel: most firm, and constant in hope, and excellently perfect in charity. From the twentith year of his age, to the last hour of his life, he was never seen to fit in the Church; no man ever found him either fond merry, or idly given to melancholy. He was mild, familiar, and courteous to all. In body he walked on earth, but his mind, and soul was always fixed in heaven. His custom was to read over the psalter of David every day, and to kneel in his prayers to God a hundred times a day, and as oft by night. His clothing was poor, made of goate-skinnes, his bed hard, his diet only barley bread, and pottage of herbs. Saturdays, & sundays he added thereunto some small quantity of fish, and a little ch●ese. In lent he eat but twice a week, he never drank wine nor any other liquor He vanquisheth the Devil with the sign of the Cros se. which might intoxicate the brain. The Devil envying so great sanctity, endeavoured with his hellish plots to trouble, and molest his pious labours, appearing unto him as he prayed in his oratory, in the most ugly, and horrid shapes that master of wickedness could invet, vomiting out of his infernal throat many reproachful words against him: when he, nothing dismayed thereat, courageously proceeded in his devotions, and brandishing the chief arms of life, the holy cross, against that black messenger of death, he compelled him to vanish away in confusion. VI Now the excellency of his virtues begun to be so famous all over Britain, that many blind, lame, leprous, and other diseased persons flocked unto him as to an Oracle, whom he not only wonderfully cured in body, but with the sacred balm of his pious advice, and counsel, healed the sinful infections of their souls. His fame arrived at length to the ears of a king of that country, whose lewdness of life did little answer the dignity of his calling; but coming in a poor habit unto the holy man, he fell prostrate at his feet, humbly desiring his prayers for the remission of his sins. The Saint lifting him up, encouraged him with a familiar exhortation, to the contempt He connetteth a King to good life. of the world, & the divine love of heaven, with such a lively, & moving discourse, that the king received wonderful great comfort thereat, and returning again to his palace, reform his bad life ever after. Many other miracles are reported to have been wrought by the merits of this blessed saint, which exceed our brevity to relate; our discourse hasteneth now towards his death, which as it could not come unto so holy man in an ill season, so it could not befall him in a better time than it did. For the night before his departure, having had a revelation of that happy hour, he made it known unto the rest of his brethren, who with bitter tears, witnessed the sorrow they conceived for the loss of so good a father, and entreated him to appoint one to succeed him in the government of the Monastery, whereunto he willingly consented. And on the morrow, having celebrated The mann●r of his death. the holy Sacrifice of Mass, and received the sacred body, & blood of our lord, standing yet at the altar, he sweetly rendered up his blessed soul, into the hands of his dear redeemer, without any appearance of sensual pain at all. After which quiet separation, his body by the hands of his brethren, was reverently committed to a poor house of clay in the earth, and his unspotted soul freed from her terrene habitation, was conveyed into the heavenly court of almighty God, by a Sacred Convoy of celestial spirits. He flourished about the year of our lord. 459. and died the third day of March, in the first week of Lent. His holy relics were translated afterwards to S. PETER'S Abbey of Benedictin Monks in the city of Gaunt in Flanders, The memory of which translation is celebrated the first day of August. His life is found written by Joannes Anglicus JOHN Capgrave, and other ancient manuscripts sort down by SURIUS on't of which me have gathered it. VSVARD & MOLANUS do make mention of him. The life of Saint OWEN Confessor, and Monk of the holy Order of S. Benedict. MAR. 4. Out of venerable Bede de gest. Ang. SAINT OWEN being chief steward of the royal family of S. ETHELDRED wife to Egfrid King of the Northumber's, increased so excellently in the fervour of virtue, that forsaking that princely service, and all the pleasures, and riches he enjoyed in the world, he put on poor apparel, and went to the monastery of Lesting, where the holy Bishop S. CHAD then lived. He brought nothing with him, but an axe in his hand, to show that he came not to the monastery He forsaketh the world. to live idly as many do, but to get his living by the labour of his hands, which afterwards by his great industry he proved: for having received the habit of a Benedictin monk in the same place, by how much his want of learning did disfurnish him of ability to meditate on the mysteries of the holy scriptures, by so much the more he employed, and applied his whole endeavours, to serve the monastery, with the labour of his hands. But when the holy Bishop S. CHAD removed his seat to Lichfield, he took this holy monk along with him, and judged him worthy to be one of those eight, whom (as we have said in his life) he made his more familiar companion; in that little retiring place of his devotions, which he built near adjoining unto the Church, for his more private exercise of piety. There S. OWEN, being for reverence and respect of his devotion numbered a mongst the other brethren, when the rest were earnestly busied at their prayers, and meditations, he laboured abroad in making provision of such things, as were necessary. He was a man of very great merits, and one who had left the world with a pure intention & sincere desire of the eternal reward promised to such, as follow the footsteps of CHRIST, and his Apostles. And therefore he His gift of revelation. was esteemed of almighty God to be in all things most worthy, to whom he might more peculiarly reveal his heavenly secrets, being for his sincerity, most worthy to be believed in his relations. For this cause the glorious vision of the Angelical troops which came from heaven with their melodious tunes, to bring news of the neere-approching death of S. CHAD, was showed unto this holy Monk, as he laboured without, when the holy Bishop was at his prayers within. This you may read in the life of S. CHAD the second of March. And this only testimony of alimightie Gods particular favour unto this holy saint, may serve for a sufficient proof of his great virtue, and sanctity, who after the death of the holy Bishop, having long exercised himself in the execution of his His happy death. pious vocation, left the world the second time, to receive an everlasting reward in heaven, for having renounced it at first, and yielded up his pure soul into the hands of his most dear redeemer. Thus much of him we have gathered chief out of S. BEDES-historie of England. Trithemius in his third book and 118. Chapter of the illustrious men of S. benedict's order, and Arnold Wion in his Appendix to his Martirologe do both make worthy mention of him. What day he died it is not known. The life of Saint PIRAN Bishop and Confessor. MAR. 5. Written by Joannes Anglicus, recited by john Capgrave. SAINT PIRAN borne in Jreland of a noble race, for the love of God contemned the riches of the world, and became an Hermit in the same country, leading the space of many years, a very strict and rigid manner of life, by which, and his concontinuall preaching and working of many miracles, he drew diverse out of the blindness of Idolatry, to the true faith of CHRIST. He was His virtuous life. wonderful sparing in his diet, continual in watching, and prayer, and from his very childhood to the hour of his death, always employed in reading, teaching, & practising, the works of charity, humility, continency, & all other virtues. Being made Priest, he omitted no duty belonging to that dignity, feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, instructing the ignorant, restraining from vice, & moving to virtue. At length he departed out of Jreland, & came into that part of England called Cornwall, where with some others in a poor little habitation he prepared himself for death: the hour whereof being The manner of his death. partly by a grievious sickness, (of which never in his life he had tasted before) and partly by a divine inspiration, made known unto him, he caused his grave to be opened, and entering himself into it, yielded up his blessed soul out of that house of clay, to be carried up to the never dying joys of heaven, in the glory of a great light, and splendour, that appeared at the same instant. He died the sixth of March, and was buried in Cornwall, in a chapel in the town of Padstow which chapel remaineth there to this day. He is reported to have wrought many wonderful miracles in his life time, which because they tend rather to breed an incredulous amazement in the readers, then move to any works of virtues or piety, we have willingly omitted. His life is written by JOANNES Anglicus, and recited by JOHN CAPGRAVE, and mention is made of him in the Chronicles of Ireland, and other anncient monuments. The life of Saint KYNEBURG queen, and Abbess, and of Saint Kineswide, and Tibbe Virgins, all of the holy order of S. Benedict. MAR. 6. Taken out of diverse grave Authors. SAINT KYNEBURG, and KYNESWIDE daughters to wicked Penda the Heathen king of the Mercians, inherited so little of their father's impiety, and were so fare from following the blind ways of his Paganism, that contrariwise like two bright stars they shined in the true profession of Christian religion, and virtue: So that their father, though ever rebellious against almighty God Kyneburg marrieth King Alfred. yet in them he furnished his heavenly Kingdom with two most sacred branches of sanctity. KYNEBURG, to get out of the reach of his cruelty, married Alfred King of the Northumber's: which was rather an advancement than a hindrance to her, in the continual exercise of virtue & piety. The poor, needy, and afflicted had so pious a mother of her, that she seemed to be borne for no other end, then to relieve their misery. And yet did she not so excel in this one grace, as if she were dead to all other virtues, for there was almost no praise due unto a pious-noble woman, wherein she might not justly challege her part, all ways performing with a singular care, and diligence whatsoever appertained unto God, and his divine Her desire of a chaste life. service. The fervour of her piety daily increasing, she became at length so ravished with the sacred love of her immortal spouse, the King of heaven, that she earnestly desired to renounce her terrene King, & Kingdom, thereby to bear the sweet yoke of CHRIST with more freedom: and loathing all mortal embracements, she aspired only to unite her soul with almighty God, in the sacred links of his divine love. Which, that with more liberty, and profit, she might bring to pass, she never ceased with her pious persuasions to solicit the King her husband, until he had granted her licence to live according to her own free will. The King at length, honouring, and admiring so great fervour of piety, and religion in his wife, as it were violently forced, and compelled himself, contrary to the inclination of his own will, to forgo his power of matrimony, otherwise lawful, and not only gave her way to follow her own desires, but himself allsoe put on a constant and settled resolution and purpose to keep perpetual continency ever after. Therefore within a short time, the King's Palace itself (contrary to A royal resolution of chastity. custom in such places) was changed, as it were, into a monastery of religion, and a shop where was practised all manner of discipline of more exact virtue, and piety. The King, & his queen lived as brotheir and sister, united together in a stricter union of minds, then before they were of bodies. KYNEBURG not a little glad hereat, when after a while she perceived the King her husband to be sufficiently confirmed in this new course of piety, she departed with his leave to a monastery, which she had prepared for herself and other virgins, where changing her kind of life, she made the splendour and greatness of her former estate, stoop to the plainness of humility, her riches to grow richer by a voluntary poverty, her delights to be an ordinary slender diet, and instead of the ambition's train of her noble ladies of honour, she was accompanied with a few poor Virgin-Nunnes, with whom she led a virtuous and religious life under the, rule of our most holy father Saint BENEDICT. This monastery was built at a place then called Dormundcaster, and afterwards Chineburgcastle, some two miles distant from the famous Benedictine Abbey of Peterborrough. II. IN THE mean time her sister KYNESWIDE, as yet but young, had S. Kyneswide. not attained the sacred veil of religion, but waiting, as it were, at the chamber door of her divine spouse, admired, and imitated the sainctity of her sister, so well, that she gave great signs, and tokens of her own future sainctity. When S. KYNEBURG served her for a true pattern, or sampler, whence she might take out the pious works, and flowers of virtue, and religion; being brought up under her government, in the sacred school of a virtuous good life. S. Kyneburg. made Abbess. Afterwards S. KYNEBURG being made Abbess of the same monastery, it fare exceeds the force of weak words, & this poor pen to express, with what love she gained souls to CHRIST'S service, with what care being gained she nourished them in the bosom of her charity, and how watchful a guardian, & teacher she was of the divine laws, and monastical discipline: daily heaping up a new increase of virtues to her former: till at length, she left this life, and Her death made a happy journey unto him, for whose sake she had forsaken the world, and the vanities thereof; leaving unto her doleful sisters many worthy examples of charity, and religion. She was buried in the same monastery, which she had built. III. AFTER the departure of this sacred Virgin, Offa King of the East-Angles became wonderfully affected to the holy Virgin, Kyneswide her sister, and earnestly desired to make her his wife, & queen. But KINESWIDE, who was quite of an other mind, and had already betrothed herself to be a spouse of the King of heaven, utterly refused to yield unto his desires. And being with much importunity solicited thereunto, by the persuasions, yea and threatenings of her brethren, she had recourse unto the Mother of all purity the Blessed Virgin MARIE, whom with prayers and tears she earnestly implored to rid her of these troubles. The B. Virgin appearing in a The Virgin Marie appeareth to Kyneswide. vision unto her, gave her counsel courageously to persist in her purpose of perpetual chastity, promising withal to obtain of her son CHRIST-IESUS, whom she had chose for her spouse, to grant strength, and help to her holy intentions. Hereuppon KYNESVIDE receiving new force, and courage, sent messengers to give a defiance unto King Offa, & break of all hope of any such league to be betwixt them; beseeching, and conjuring him, by the dreadful name She refuseth the marriage of King Offa. of our Lord, not to solicit her any further with his love, which she judged to be violence, nor to make war against heaven, to take her from CHRIST her chosen spouse, nor to trouble his angels the lovers of virginity; but peaceably to permit her with an untouched freedom to serve almighty God, unto whom she had already consecrated herself to live a perpetual Virgin. At this news (the divine providence so disposing) the King approved of her counsel, and in his answer, promised that her sacred vows should be ratified. Thus than this holy virgin being freed from these troubles, held on her pious course and purposes, and having received the sacred veil of virginity, in the same monastery that her sister, she endeavoured, with great care, and vigilancy, to observe the rules of a monastical life in all purity both of soul, & body. And at length King Offa himself, being overcome with the invincible virtue of the holy virgin, blushed to see a tender girl so stoutly Off a becometh a Benedictin Monk. refuse such glory and riches, and grieving at his own subjection to vanity, and reputing himself but as the slave of his Kingdom, he forsook both it, and all the pomp of the world, and went to Rome where he became a Monk of Saint benedict's order, and happily ended his days in that holy state. iv BUT S. KINESWIDE serving almighty God all her life time in continual watchings, prayers, and good works, was called at Of S. Tibbe Virgin. length out of the thraldom of this world, to enjoy the happy company of her dear spouse CHRIST-IESUS, among the pure quires of his angels in heaven. She was buried in the same monastery by her sister S. KYNEBURG. These two sisters had a Kinswoman called TIBBE, who lived many years in the same monastery, in so high a degree of sanctity, that after her death, she was numbered in the catalogue of Saints. The sacred relics of these three Saints were afterwards translated to the Benedictin Abbey of Peterborough, where their feast was celebrated the sixth day of March; Although saint TIBBE died on saint LUCY'S day the thirteenth of December, as she herself revealed in an apparition after her death. Other particulars of the lives of these blessed Saints were burnt & lost, in that outrageous ransack committed by the Danes against the monastery of Peterborrough; when 〈◊〉 Abbot) as Ingulphus a grave author saith) with the greater part of his Convent and the sacred relics of the holy Virgins Kineburg, Kineswide, and Tibbe fled to Thorney for secure. And William Camden (out of an ancient Author Robert Swapha●●) reporteth, that saint KYNEBURG and KYNESWIDE conferred not a little to the first foundation, and building of the famous Benedictine Abbey of Peterborough. The lives of these Saints we have gathered chief out of joannes Anglicus recited by john Capgrave, and Nicholas Harpsfield saec. 7. cap. 23. Besides these, Rannlphus Cicestrensis lib. 5. cap. 18. Polidor Virgil l. 4. william Malmesbury de g●st. Pont. l. 4. Matthew West. an. 705. Arnold Wyon lib. 4. cap. 14. and others do make honourable 〈…〉 tion of them. The life of saint ESTERWINE Abbot and confessor of the holy order of S. BENEDICT. MARTINO 7. Written by venerable Bede ESTERWINE borne in Yorkshire of noble parents, was near allied to saint BENNET Bishop Abbot, whose life we have written the twelfth of january, wherein something hath been said of this holy man saint ESTERWINE, a virtuous proficient in the aforenamed saint BENNETS Benedictin school of religion. For when he (as we have said in his life) had built two monasteries, one in honour of the Prince of the Apostles saint PETER, at the mouth of the river Were, and an other to the name of the Teacher of the Gentiles saint PAUL, not fare from the mouth of the river Tine, in the town Esterwin made Abbot. 〈◊〉 Yarrow, and placed Sigfrid in the government of saint PAUL'S, about the year of CHRIST 682, at the same time he made choice of ESTERWINE then a Priest of S. PETER'S monastery, and gave him the government of the same, that the labour, which alone himself was not able to under 〈…〉 ●ight be made more easy by the helping virtue of so beloved a 〈…〉 lleague. Nether need it seem strange to any (faith venerable BEDE) that one monastery had two abbotts at once, (to wit S. BENNET Bishop, and S. ESTERWINE) S. BENNETS Two Abbo●● of one monastery often journeys over the seas, for the good of his monastery, and the uncertainty of his return was cause hereof. For our histories recount, that the most Blessed Apostle S. PETER, upon an instant, & just cause, appointed under him two Bishops one after an other at Rome, to govern the universal Church. And the great Abbot S. BENEDICT himself (as S. GREGORY Pope writes of him) ordained twelve abbots under him, to rule his disciples, as he through best, without any detriment to charity, yea to the great increase and conservation thereof. S. ESTERWINE therefore undertook the charge to govern that monastery, the ninth year after the foundation. And he remained in the same as long as he lived, and he lived but four years after. II. HE WAS a man by birth noble, but he did not make use of the nobility of his blood (as som● do) to suggest matter of arrogancy, and contempt of others, but (as best befitted the servant of God) he turned it to the greater ennobling of his mind Greatness of virtue, not birth to be respected. with virtue. For being cousin german unto saint BENNET Bishop they were both so truly allied in the nobility of the world, that nether ESTERWINE entering into the monastery, did expect any greater honour in regard of his nobility of birth, and Kindred, nor BENNET judged it fit to be offered him, upon those respects. But living in an equal measure of his good purpose with his other brethren, he rejoiced chief, that in all things he punctually observed the rules of regular discipline. And being before, one of the royal train of King Egfrid, having once rid himself of worldly affairs, laid by his arms, and entered into the spiritual warfare, he remained always so humble, and so equal with his other brethren, that together with them he would labour, in the harvest, winnow corn, look to the cat 〈…〉 〈◊〉 good ●●ample of humility. and in all base inferior offices and drudgeries of the monastery, he was joyful and glad to exercise his obedience and humility. And which is more, being raised to the degree and calling of an Abbot, he remained in the same mind as before toward all; according to a wise man's admonition that saith; Have they ordained thee to be a governor? do not grow proud, but be among thy ●●●●ects at one of them, meek, affable, and courteous unto all. Nether did he yet neglect to bridle offenders with regular discipline, but he choose rather out of his innate custom of love, to govern by fair means, and to win his subjects with his pious admonitions from offending, and entreating them not to hide from him the bright light of their countenances, with the cloud of their unruly disquietness. III. OFTEN times going abroad to oversee the affairs of the monastery, when he found his brethren at their work, he was wont presently to set his helping hands thereunto, either in guiding or holding of the plough, or any other such labour. For he was a young man of great strength, of a sweet discourse, a merry hart, bountiful in good works, and of an honest, and decent aspect. He always eate of the same meat, and in the same place that his other brethren did; and slept in the same common dorter that he did, before he was made Abbot. Yea when he fell sick, and foresaw by certain signs that death was at hand, yet he remained two days after in the dorter of the other Brethren. And other five days before his He taketh leave of his monks. departure, he was placed in a more secret house a part: till going forth one day into the open air, he assembled all his monks together, and took a solemn leave of them, imparting to every one a charitable salutation of peace; they, in the mean time, pitifully weeping, and wailing to departed from so holy a father, and so pious a pastor. He died the seaventh, day of March, in the night, when the monks were singing mattings in the Church. He was twenty four years of age when he came to the monastery, he lived twelve years therein, seven whereof he exercised the function of Priesthood, and four His death. he governed the Monastery with the dignity of Abbot, till at length leaving his mortal limbs, he took a happy flight to the Kingdom of heaven, saint BENNET Bishop being then absent in his fift journey to Rome. The life of this Saint is thus written by saint BEDE, as we have found it in an ancient manuscript together with the lines of other Abbots of the same mònastery, where saint BEDE himself lived a Monk. Besides him, FLORENTIUS WIGORNIENSIS an. 682. MATHEW WESTMINSTER an. 703. NICHOLAS HARPSFIELD. saec. 7. cap. 37. JOHN CAPGRAVE and others do northily speak his praises. The life of saint FELIX Bishop and Confessor. MAR. 8. Out of diverse Authors. FELIX was the first Bishop of the East-Angles, But a man of how great piety he was, it appeareth chief in this He leaveth his country to preach in England. one famous example, that being native of Burgundis and understanding how few labourers there were in so fruitful an harvest of CHRIST as England, of his own accord he left his Bishopric, friends, Kindred, and riches, and all other maintenances, and promotions of his state, to come into our country, and employ his best endeavours in so pious a work. Whose holy purpose, being understood, & admired by Honorius Archbishop of Canturbury, he allotted him the Province of the East-Engles, which having He converteth the East-Angles. forsaken the Christian faith before received, was fallen again into the blindness of Idolatry. But FELIX, being in effect correspondent to his name which signifieth, Happy, with so great happiness discharged the province he undertook, that in a short time, he wholly, & happily reduced it from the Idolatrous bondage of the devil, to the sweet freedom of CHRIST'S sacred Gospel. He held his Episcopal sea in a town then called Dimmock, but afterwards from his name it was named FELIXTOWE, or FELSTOWE. In which place and dignity, happy FELIX having discharged the part of a good pastor, for the space of seventeen years continually labouring with invincible patience for the advancement of CHRIST'S holy Gospel, laden with virtue, His death. and good works, made a most happy journey to the eternal happiness; the vl day of March, & was buried in the same town: but his relics were after wards translated to a place called Scha●, where appears yet (saith Malmesbury) some signs of a Church destroyed and burnt by the Danes. But the Sacred body of this saint being sought for, and found a long time after, was again translated to the famous Abbey of Benedictin Monks at Ramsey. This life we have gathered out of S. Bede the gest. lib. 2. c. 15. Nicholas Harpsfield, saec. 7. cap. 16. and William Malmesbury de Pontif. The life of Saint BOSA, or Boso Bishop and Confessor, Monk of the holy Order of S. Benedict. MARTINO 11. Out of ve nerable Bede de gest. Ang. BOSA from a monk of the Benedictin monastery of Streanshall in Northumberland, was at the instance of Egfrid king of that Province, elected Bishop of York in the place of the most reverend Bishop He is made Bishop of York. S. WILFRID, then unjustly banished out of that sea and country, by the means of the forefayd king, and the authority of Theodore Archbishop of Canturbury, in the year 678. This sea he governed in great holiness of good life and learning, till by the death of king Egfrid, his brother Alfrîd obtained the kingdom; who recalled S. WILFRID out of banishment, and restored him to his Bishopric again. But after the space of five years, Alfred expelled saint WILFRID again, and BOSA was once more restored to the sea of York, in the government whereof, and the continual exercise of all true virtues belonging to a holy Bishop, he rendered up his blessed soul to the never dying joys of heaven, about the year of our Lord. 700. but what day he died it is uncertain, this eleventh of March, is made a commemoration of him, whom S. BEDE calleth a man well beloved of God, of great holiness, and humility; Besides whom, WILLIAM MALMESBURY, TRITEMIUS in his fourth book of the famous men of S. benedict's order cap. 64. MATHEW WESTMINSTER an. 678. ARNOLD WION lib. 2. cap. 23. and others, do make worthy mention of him, a● allsoe Pope JONH the seaventh in his letters written in behalf of S. WILFRID. The life of the most Glorious Pope, & Doctor of the Catholic Church S. GREGORY. surnamed the Great, Apostle of England, and glory of S. benedict's Order. MARTINO 12. written by Paulus Diaconus. SO great, and so many are the incomparable deeds, and virtues, wherewith this thrice happy Saint hath adorned the The translatours' Proloyne. Church of God, and so many holy, and learned men have endeavoured by their writings to make him famous to posterity, that we find our wits fare to weak to comprehend the one, & this poor pen fare to barren to set down, among so many worthies, any thing worthy so worthy a subject: Yet on the other side, because the benefits, which not only the Benedictin Order in England, but allsoe all England itself hath from him received are so infinite, we cannot choose but strain according to our power, to make some small show of acknowledgement thereof, imitating those herein, who in a little map, or card, to the great pleasure, and profit of the beholders, do describe the mighty compass of the whole world. And here now (o Rome●) do thou first acknowledge thine happiness, and diligently endeavour to imitate so great a worthy. Many everlasting monuments there are, which have eternised thy name to posterity, thy Kings, thy Dictatours, thy Consuls, thy Emperors, thy Trophies, yea and the Empire of the world seated in thy bosom. All which, and all other thy monuments of antiquity, diverse have so largely, elegantly, learnedly, and exactly searched into, that there is scarce a stone, a marble, or a sepulchre extant within thy walls, which hath not been particularly noted, marked, and examined. But I would not have the stick here to long. I would not have thine eyes, & throughts fixed on these trophies of vanity. I invite thee to behold more noble, and more excellent glories of thine, and (omitting all other) thy only, and chiefest ornament, thy GREGORY, who alone, (next to the two lights of the world the Apostles) excelleth all the rest of thy wonders. Nether yet is he thine so much, as Ours too, Ours he is indeed, not only because he shined unto as with the bright lustre of his authority, and virtues, as to the rest of the world, but allsoe, & principally, because by his disciple S. AUGUSTIN, he brought us out of the blindness of Idolatry to see the light of the truth, and made us that were the sons of wrath, become the children of CHRIST, in the unity, and peace of his Church: Thine too he is, because in thee he was begotten, borne, and bred, and in thee ennobled with the sacred dignity of Supreme Pastor of the Christian world. Acknowledge therefore this thy great happiness, thy native, and domesticque glory. Honour this most generous branch bred out of a noble & holy root. And thou (wretched England) acknowledge likewise the inestimable benefits received from this thy spiritual father, and Apostle. Look upon this bright sun that first sent thee the light of truth, have regard to this thy pious fosterer, who first fed thee with the sweet milk, of the gospel, Search exactly into his life, works and actions, and even therein thou shalt see how fare thou hast swerved from that faith, and religion, which through his means, was first planted within thy dominions, and which, as at that time thou didst embrace for truth, so yet I hope thou art not so impudent, as to deny for such. If thou find then by the manner of this thy first Apostles life (which was ever conformable to his doctrine) that the present state of thy life and religion, is contrary, or other wise mainly differing from that which first he delivered unto thee, be then most assured that thou hast erred, and gone astray from thy first foundation, and principles of the true religion, which is, not can be but one only. This life was written in Latin by P●ul●s Dia●●n●● a Benedictin Monk above 850. years ago; and for the antiquitle we have made choice of it rather than any other. I. GREGORY borne in Rome son to Gordian, and Silvia, descended His birth and Parents. from a noble race of Roman Senators, in whom nobility was adorned with religion, and religion ennobled with virtue. For Felix chief Pastor of the same sea Apostolicque, was father unto his great grandfather, and a man of great virtue, and integrity, and in his time the glory of CHRIST'S Church. But yet GREGORY, in his pious conversation & manners was an ornament to the great nobility of his birth. In fine (as clearly afterwards it appeared) it was not without some great presage that this name was allotted him, for Gregorins, in Greek signifies as much as Vigilant or Watchful, in English. His name expounded and in very deed, he was Watchful over himself, whilst exactly adhering to the commandments of God, he led a virtuous, & laudable life here on earth: He was Vigilant over the faithful people of God's Church, when by the force of his fluent doctrine, he made plain unto them the strait way to heaven From a child he was so well instructed in the liberal sciences, that albeit at that time the study of learning flourished much in Rome, yet he, was judged second to none in the whole city. In his age, which as yet was but little, and unripe, there was a mind full of mature studies, and manlike endeavours: to wit, to stick to the sayings of his ancients, and when he heard anle thing worthy of notice, he would not by neglect commit it to oblivion, but rather commend it to the strongest hold of his memory. So that then with a thirsty breast he sucked up strea. mes of learning, which afterwards with a mellifluous voice, he might utter in due season. II. IN the very time of his youth (when that age is wont to enter The conversation of his youth. into the dangerous paths of the world) he began to settle himself in devotion towards God, and with all the desires of his heart, to aspire to the country of everlasting life. But while he defferred the grace of his conversion somewhat long, and thought best after he was inspired with that heavenly desire, to hide it under his secular apparel, and to serve the world, as it were, in outward show, so many difficulties out of that little care of the world arose against him, that now he was not detained therein only in outward show, but almost in mind too, as he himself affirmeth. Till as length the death He buildeth many monasteries. of his parents giving him free scope to dispose of himself and his affairs, he made that openly known, which before lay hid under the secrecy of his mind: & that which before was only in the sight of him that sees all things, he manifested now to the public view of the world. For distributing all his temporal goods in pious works, to the end that in the state of povertic he might follow CHRIST, who for our sakes became poor, he built six monasteries in Sicily, & furnished them with virtuous Monks to sing the praises of almighty God. The seaventh he erected within the walls of Rome, in which afterwards, having gathered together a great Convent of Monks, & forsakesn the Pomp of the world, he himself lived in regular discipline under the command, and obedience of an Abbot. Unto these monasteries he allotted so much yearly rend out of his own means, as might suffice each one for necessary maintenance. All the rest of his temporal goods, houses, and lands, he should, and dealed the money to the Poor, turning hereby (by a divine inspiration) all that glory, and nobility which he seemed to have in the world, to purchase the happiness of the ever-florishing city of heaven. And he that before was wont to walled through the city of Rome clothed in silks, and loaden with glittering gems, afterwards covered with a poor simple weed, became a poor servant to the poor. III. FOR having changed his secular apparel, he went to the He taketh the habit of a Benedictin. Monk. monastery, and made a naked escape out of the shipwreck of the world. There he began to live in so great grace of perfection, that even then in his very beginning, he might be reckoned in the number of the perfect. So that within a while, being chosen by the common consent of the Convent, he refused not to undertake the charge of Abbott. To be short, he was so abstinent in his diet, so vigilant in his prayers, and so untired in his labour of fasting, that out of over much weakness in his stomach, he was scarse able to subsist. He sustained besides, a continual sickness of body, and chief he was grieved with the trouble of that disease, which the phistians call Syncopa, in Greek; the cruelty whereof so tormented his vital parts, that being taken with frequent, and sudden agonies, he seemed every moment to be ready to yield up the ghost. But what manner of man he was in his monastery, and with how commendable an exercise he led his life, we may gather out of his own words, which with weeping tears he uttered, when he was Pope, His speech to Peter Deacon. to Peter his Deacon, saying: My wretched mind being strucken with the wound of its own present necessary employment, remembers in what state it was in the monastery, how all sleeting things than See the happiness of a Religious life were subject unto it, how eminent it was above things that were tossed in the world; that it was accoustumed to think on nothing but heavenly matters, that being yet detained within this body, in contemplation it surpassed that inortall prison itself. Yea and that (which is a punishment almost to all men) it was in love even with death itself, as being the entrance to life, and the reward of labour. But now by reason of this heavy pastoral charge, it suffers, in the affairs of secular men, and after so swcet a form of its own quietness, it is defiled with the dust of worldly business. I consider therefore what I do endure, I consider what I have lost: and when I behold that which I have lost, the burden which I undergo grows more grievous. For now, behold jam tossed in the waves of a huge sea, and in the ship of my mind, I am dashed, and beaten with the storms of a mighty tempest: and whilst I call to my remembrance the tranquillity of my former life, castling back my eyes to what is past, I sigh at the sight of the desired shore. And which is yet more irksome, whilst I am discontentedly tossed in these huge waves, I have scarce the happiness to see the haven which I left. Thus he was wont to relate of himself, not bragging of his proficiency in virtues, but rather bewailing his deficiency; which he ever feared, to run into, through his pastoral charge. But albeit he spoke in this manner of himself, out of a mind full of profound humility; it becometh us notwithstanding to believe, that by reason of his pastoral dignity, he lost nothing of his monastical perfection; Yea rather that he received thereby a greater advancement in perfection, by his labour in the conversion of many, than he had in times passed in the tranquillity of his own private contemplation. iv But by what means this blessed man was raised first to the office of Deacon, and after to the high dignity of Chief Bishop, the ensuing speech shall declare. The Roman Bishop who then governed the Church, preceaving GREGORY to climb up by the degrees of virtue He is made Deacon, and the Pope's Legate. to the height of perfection, having called him out of his beloved monastery, heraysed the office, & dignity of Ecclesiastical orders, made him the seaventh Levite, or Deacon for his assistance: and not long after directed him as his legate, or Commissary to the city of Constantinople, for answers touching affairs of the Catholicque Church. Nether Yet did GREGORY albeit he were conversant in a worldly palace, intermitt the purpose of his heavenly manner of life. For the divine providence so ordained, for his greater good, that diverse of the Monks, out of an obligation of fraternal love, followed him from the monastery, to the end that by their example, as a ship with Anchor, he might be stayed at the pleasing shore of prayer, and contemplation; and that, whilst he was tossed with the continual blows of secular affairs, he might fly to their company, as to the bosone of a most sure haven, after the volumes, and waves, of his worldly employment. And allthought that office, with the sword of his extern labours, now being abstracted from his monastery, despoiled him of his former tranquillity of life, notwithstanding among them, the aspiration of his daily remorse, through the discourse of their earnest reading, did give him new courage of life. Therefore by the company of these, he was not only fenced from worldly assaults, but allsoe enkindled more, and more to the exercises of a heavenly life. Then, at the earnest request of those his brethren, and chief of that Venerable man LEANDER Archbishop He writteth morals upon job. of Seville (who at that time was come legate to Constantinople in the cause of the Visigothes he was compelled to explicate the book of holy job, so intricate in mysteries. Nether had he the power to deny a work, which at the request of charity, brotherly love did impose upon him, for the profit of many: but in a course of thirty five books, he throughly instructed us, how the same book of job is to be understood literally, how to be applied to the hidden mysteries of CHRIST and his Church, and in what sense it may be fitted to every Christian in particular: In which work of his, he discourseth after such an admirable manner of virtues, and vices, that he seemeth not only to express those things in naked words only, but after a manner to demonstrate them in visible forms. Wherefore, there is no doubt, but he had truly attained to the perfection of the virtues themselves, whose effects with so much efficacy he was able to declare. V WHILST yet he remained in the same Royal city of Constantinople, He overthroweth the heresy of Eutichius. by the assistant grace of the Catholic truth, he overthrew a new budding heresy of the state of Resurrection, in the very first appearance, and beginning of it. For indeed Eutichius Bishop of the same city held an opinion, that our bodies in the glory of the later resurrection, should be impalpable, and more subtle than either the wind or air, Which S. GREGORY understanding, he proved both by force of reason, and truth, and the example of our Lord's resurrection, that this assertion was wholly opposite to the doctrine of the Catholicque faith; which holdeth that this our very body raised in the glory of the resurrection, shall indeed, not only be subtle, by reason of its spiritual power; but palpable allsoe, to show the truth of the nature: according to the example of our Lord's body, of which raised from death, himself said to his disciples: Palpate, & videte quin spiritus Luc 24. v. 39 carnem & ossa non habet, sicut me videtis habere. Feel, and see, for a spirit hath not flesh, and bones, as ye see me have. For the assertion of this, the Venerable Father of our faith GREGORY, fought with so great pains against this breeding heresy; and with so great instance (having allsoe the helping hand of the most pious Emperor Tiberius Constantine) he utterly broke in pieces that opinion; that no man yet was ever found that offered to revive it. VI THAN, within a short time, after the venerable Levite or Deacon GREGORY was returned back to Rome, the river Tiber swollen over his banks with so great an inundation, and grew so powerful, that his raging waters flowed over the walls of the city, and took violent possession of many streets therein, in so much that it overwhelmed many monuments of ancient building. And with the outrage of this flood, the barns of the Church were overturned, in which many thousand bushels of wheat was lost. Then a multitude of Serpents, with a monstrous Dragon floated down the gulf of this river, like unto a mighty beam of timber, into the sea: and many beasts were drowned, and cast on shore by the briny waves of the troubled waters. Presently hereuppon followed a pestilent disease, of which first died Pope Pelagius ( Pope Pelagius dieth. ●●●ch. c 9 v. 6. to that, A Sanctuario meo incipite, Begin from my sanctuary) and then there fell so great a destruction of the common people, that in many parts of the city, houses were left without any inhabitants. But because the Church, of God could not be without a ruler, all the people made choice of Blessed GREGORY, who by all means possible Gregory is chosen Pope. resisted against it. And endeavouring more waryly to avoid the height of that dignity, he often proclaimed himself unworthy of such honour, fearing indeed, lest the glory of the world, which he had cast off before, might by some means steal upon him again, under the colour of Ecclesiastical government. Whence it came to pass that he directed an Epistle to Mauritius the Emperor (unto whose son he was Godfather) entreating, and conjuring him, with many prayers, never to grant consent to the people, to advance him to the grace of so great a dignity. But the Perfect of the city called German, intercepted his messenger, and havig apprehended him, and torn his Epistles, he directed the election, and consent of the people to the Emperor; Who giving God thankes for the friendship of the Deacon, because, according to his desire, he had found an occasion to bestow an honour upon him, forthwith gave a command for his instalment. VII. AND THE time of his consecration being at hand, when that pestilent disease still made great havoc amongst the people, he His speech to the people. began to exhort them to do works of peanance in this sort. It behooveth (most beloved brethren) at least that we fear the scourges of God, now come and made present among us by experience, which we ought to have feared coming. Let grief open us the gate of our conversion, and let that very punishment which we feel, dissolve the hardness of our hearts. For as by the testimony of the Prophet it is foretold. Pernenit gladius usque jer. c. 4. v. 10. ad animam. The sword is come even to the soul. Behold all the people are smitten with the sharp point of heaven's wrath, and all are destroyed with sudden and unexpected ruin. Nether doth sickness prevent death, but death itself (as you see) prevents the delays of sickness: every one that is strucken, is suddenly taken away, before he can be converted to tears of peanance. Consider therefore, Brethren, what manner of man he appears before the fight of the dreadful judge, who had no leisure to bewail what he hath done. Whole families tumble into destruction together; their houses are left empty, parents see the burial of their children, and their heirs go before them to the grave. Let us all therefore fly to tears of peanance for refuge, whilst we have leisure to weep, before the blow of ruin fall upon us; let us call to mind whatsoever through error and negligence we have committed, and chastise our default with sorrow and repenrance. Let us go before his face in confession, and as Psalm. 94. v, 1. the royal prophet admonisheth, Let us lift up our hearts and hands to our Lord; for to lift up our hairs with our hands, is to raise and stir up the endeavour of our prayers, with the merit of good works. He giveth, in very deed, he giveth great confidence to our fear, who crieth out by the Prophet, I will not the death of a sinner, but Ezech. c. 33. v. 11. that he be converted, and live. Let no man then despair out of the immensity of his sins; for the inveterate faults of the Ninivites were washed away with three days peanance: and the converted thief purchased the rewards of life, e●en at the very sentence of his death. Let us therefore change our hearts, and presume that we have obtained what we ask: the judge will sooner incline to our prayer, if our minds be recalled from their wichednes. The sword then of so severe a punishment hanging over our heads, let us earnestly labour with importune lamentations; for that importunity which to men is wont to be grateful, is pleasing to the judge of truth; because our pious, and merciful Lord, who will not be angry, according as we deserve, will have things exacted from him by prayers. Hence he telleth us by the Psalmist: Call upon Ps●m. 49. v. 16. me in the day of thy tribulation, and I will deliver thee, and thou shalt magnify me. He himself therefore, is a witness for himself, that he desires to have mercy on such as call upon him, and exhorteth us to call upon him. For this cause (most dear brethren) having our hearts contrite, and our works amended, from wendsday morning next, let us come in a devout manner with tears, to the Litanies for seven day's space that when the severe judge meaneth to punish us, and our offences, he may mitigate the sentence of damnation, and spare us. We thought fit to set down here this exhortation of S. GREGORY, that we might show, on how great height of perfection, he laid the foundation of his preaching. Therefore when a great multitude of Priests, Monks, and others of all ages, sexes, and conditions were gathered together, at the day appointed, according to the holy man's command, to call to God for mercy; the sickness waxed so cruel and outrageous among them, that within the space of own hour, whilst the people made their supplications to our Lord, fourscore persons fell to the ground and died. But the holy Priest ceased not therefore to preach to the people, and that they would not cease from their prayers, until through the mercy of almighty God, the pestilence itself ceased. Gregory 〈◊〉 to 〈◊〉 the Popedom. VIII. AND BEING afterwards to be raised to the Episcopal dignity when as he did yet seek means to conceal himself by flight; for the preventing of his desires, watch, and ward was appointed at all the gates of the city, until (as so sacred an order required) all the divine rites, and ceremonies might duly and gloriously be accomplished towards him. But he found means to be secretly He is miraculously betrayed by a pillar of fire. conveyed out of town by the help of certain merchants, and so hid himself in uncouth places, for the space of three days, until the people of Rome with fasting, and prayer obtained the discovery of that lost treasure, by a bright pillar of fire sent from above; which glittering a good part of the night in a direct line from the heavens over his head, revealed their wished desire to those that sought him. And at the same time, there appeared, to a certain Anachorite living near the city, angels descending and ascending by the same fiery pillar, upon him. Hence the Anachoret taking a sacred, and happy signification of that ladder, which holy jacob saw in his sleep, cried out that there was the house, of our Lord, and that he should be the ruler of God's house, which is the Church: yea the temple of God (said he) lies hidden there. At length the elect, and beloved servant of God was found, apprehended, and brought to the Church of Blessed PETER the Apostle, where he was consecrated in the Office of Episcopal authority, and made Pope of Rome. IX. AT THIS time, being, reprehended by john Bishop of Ravenna, that he so fit a man by concealing himself would seek to His writings. avoid that Pastoral charge, he took this occasion to write that excellent book called, the Pastoral care, wherein he made it manifestly appear, what manner of men ought to be chosen for the government of the Church, how the rulers themselves should govern their own lives, with what discretion they were to instruct their subjects of all kinds, and with how great consideration they were bound, daily to reflect upon their own frailty. He writ allsoe the four books of Dialogues, at the request of Peter his Decon, in which, for an example to posterity, he collected the virtues of the Saints of Italy, which he either knew, or could hear to be the most famous: and as in the books of his homilies, and expositions he taught what virtues are to be practised, so in his writings of the Saints, and their miracles he would demonstrate how great the excellency of the same virtues is. Allsoe in twenty and two homilies, he expounded the first and last part of the Prophet Ezechiel, which seemed to contain greatest obscurity, & declared how great light lay hid therein. Moreover he writ upon the Proverbs, and the Canticles; of the Prophets; of the books of Kings, of the books of Moses, and many others, with very many Epistles, which for brevity's sake I omit to cite in particular. And that which most of all I wonder at, is, that he could compile so many and so great volumes, when almost all the time of his His many afflictions with sickness. youth (that I may use his own phrase) he was tormented with such cruel gripings, and pains of his entrails, that every hour and moment, the virtue and strength of his stomach being overthrown, the fainted. He gasped allsoe with the pains of fevers, which albeit they were but slack, yet were they continual: and oftentimes he was vehemently tormented with the gout. X. BUT IN the mean time, while he carefully considered that (as the scripture witnesseth) every child that is received in scourged, by how much the more he was more rudely depressed with present evils, so much the surer he presumed of his eternal reward. Moreover, he was tired with a continual care in ordained a watch His great care of the Church. over the city, to guard it from enemies. Allsoe he bore a mind full of fear daily, by reason of the dangers he often heard his ghostly children and subjects were in. But being beset on all sides with such and so many encumbrances, yet he was never idle, or at rest, but either did somewhat for the increase, and furtherance of his subjects, and spiritual children, or writ something worthy the Church, or else laboured, by the grace of divine contemplation, to make himself familiar with the secrets of heaven. In sum, when very many, almost out of all parts of Italy, fearing the sword of the Longobards, flocked on all sides to the City of Rome, he His great piety and charity. most diligently cared for them all, and feeding their souls with his divine sermons, he provided them allsoe with sufficient succour, and nourishment for the body. For his soul was so conquered with the love of pity, that he did not only give comfort and secure to those that were present with him, but to such as lived fare off, he would likewise impart the pious works of his bounty; in so much that he sent helps to some servants of God that lived in the Mount Sinai. For indeed other Bishops bend their endeavours chief in building and adorning Churches with gold, and silver; but this albeit he was not wanting herein: yet did he in a manner omit those good works, that he might wholly, & entirely apply himself to the gaining of souls; and what soever money he could get, he was careful to distribute, and give it to the poor, that his righteousness Psal. 3. v. 8 Job. 29. 13. might remain ever, and his authority be exalted in glory. So that he might truly say that of holy job: The Benediction of one in distress came upon me, and I comsorted the heart of the widow. I am clothed with justice, and I have clothed myself with my own judgement, as with a garment, & a diadem. I was an eye to the blind, and a foot to the lame: I was a father of the poor, & most diligently I searched out a cause, which I knew not. And a little after: See if I have eaten my morsel of bread alone, and the orphan hath not Ibid. c. 31. 18. eaten of it; b●cause from my infancy pity grew together with me, and came with me out of my mother's womb. XI. ON AND not the of his works of piety, and zeal was the delivering of the English Nation, by his preachers thither sent, out of the servitude of the ancient enemy, to be made participant of the everlasting freedom. For whosoever faithfully adhereth unto our Lord, shall of his bountiful reward have advancement daily to higher matters. Therefore while this holy man laboured with ardent desire to gather together by parcels an harvest of faithful souls; our pious Lord gave him the great grace to convert the whole nation of the English. Of which conversion (performed without question by the special providence of almighty God) this was the occasion. As upon a time some merchants came to Rome with diverse kinds of merchandise to be sold, and that many people flocked to the Market place, some to buy, others to see, it happened that GREGORY, before he He findeth Englishmen to be fouled in Rome. was adorned with the Papal dignity, came amongst the rest, and saw among other things, children of very dainty white bodies; fair complexions, and lovely hair, exposed to sale; Whom as he beheld, he demanded (as it is reported) out of what country or land they were brought: and it was told him they came from the Island of Britain, the Inhabitants whereof shined all with the like beauty: Again he asked whether they were Christians in that Island, or entangled in the error of Paganism: That they were Pagans, it was answered; Then fetching a deep sigh from the bottom of his heart, O lamentable case (said he) that men of so bright faces should be in the possession of the author of Darkness, and that so sweet a comeliness of countenance should bear minds void of inward joys. Again therefore he demanded, what was the name of that nation: It was replied, that they were called ANGLES. Rightly they are termed so, (said he) for they have ANGELICAL faces, and it is fit, that such be made coheires with the ANGELS in heaven. Out of what Province (pursued he) are these brought hither? It was resolved him, that they were called, DEIRI. With good reason (said he) for thy are to be delivered from IRE, and wrath, to be called to the mercy of CHRIST-IESUS. But the King of that Province how is he called? ADDELLE (replied they.) And alluding to that name he said; that to the praise of almighty God? ALLELVIA should be sung in those parts. And going to the Bishop of the Roman Apostolic His zealous desire to convert the English Sea, he earnestly requested him to send some Preachers of the Gospel into Britain, to convert the English nation to to CHRIST'S Church, affirming himself to be most ready, by the help of God, to undertake that sacred work, if so it might stand with the good liking of the Apostolicque Sea. To which request, the Pope at first denied his consent, till at length overcome, and wearied with his unwearied entreaties, he yielded against his will. But he, concealing the business of his going from the citizens, who, had they known would never have consented He gins his journey towards England. thereunto, with as speed as he could, having received the Apostolical benediction, began his journey. In the mean time the news was blown into the ears of the Romans, who all with one mind, and voice, as well the citizens, as those of the suburbs, met with Pope Pelagius, as he was going to saint PETER'S Church, all crying out with a terrible noise and repeating these words. Alas, Apostolical man, what hast thou done? Thou hast offended saint PETER, overthrown Rome, thou not only hast dismissed, but expelled Gregory. The Pope being moved herewith (for he feared the people) sent letters to recall GREGORY out of his journey. But before the messengers had overtaken him, he was got three day's journey on his way. In the mean time, (as the manner is with travellers) about the sixth hour, some of his companions took their rest in a fair meadow, or were busied other ways, whilst he read to those that sat by his side, when a locust came leaping about him, and lighting on his book sat upon the very page he read. GREGORY perceaving her sit so quietly there, turning to his fellows, Locusta (said he) may be etimologised with, Loco-sta; that is stand in the place. And you must know that we may not proceed any further in our intended journey; rise notwithstanding, and prepare our horses, that as long He is called back by the Pope, as it is lawful, we may hold on our way. And whilst they discoursed thus together, the Pope's messengers came suddenly upon them, with their horses sweeting out of haste; and delivered their letters; which being read; It is even so (said he to his fellows) as unhappily I foretold, for we must presently return to Rome. And so they did. But as as soon as he was invested in the Papal dignity, he accomplished this long desired work, and sent other preachers; he himself (that their preaching might take good effect) fortifying their mission with his pious exhortations, prayers, and rewards. In sum, he sent into the same Island the servants of God AUSTIN, MELLITUS, and JOHN, with many other Monks that feared England converted by S. Augustine a Benedictine Monk. God, who in a short space converted the chiefest King that inhabited the head of the same Island, together with all his people. And herein God granted them so great grace in doing of wonders, that they confirmed the doctrine of faith which they preached with their mouths, with the force, and efficacy of strange signs and miracles: whence it came to pass, that within a few years, the other Kings of the same Island, with their whole number of subjects, received the Christian faith. Of whose deeds, conversion, and the wonderful miracles done therein, saint GREGORY speaks thus in the books of his Morals. Behold the Britain tongue that heretosore knew nothing else, but rude accents of barbarism, began now lately to warble forth the divine praises in the Hebrew language. Behold the Ocean in times past swelling with rage, becomes obedient, and calm under the feet of the Saints; and they, whose barbarous valour the Princes of the world could not subdue with the sword, are by the fear of God calmed with the simple words of his Priests; And who seared not whole troops of armed infidels, and fierce soldiers, do now tremble being faithful at the jest words of humble men. For having understood the divine tidings of the Gospel made manifest with many miracles, the virtue of heavenly knowledge is infused into them; that bridled with the terror of his divine majesty, they are afraid to do ill, desiring with all their hearts by docing well, to attain to the grace of everlasting life. All which that it might be brought to pass, almighty God granted it unto S. GREGORY in such sort, that deservedly the English people ought to call him their APOSTLE: for although to others he is not an Apostle, yet to them he is; for they are the seal of his Apostleship in our Lord. XII. BUT NOW, to ask whether this man of so great merit, hath been likewise famous in doing of miracles, is a superfluous question, since it is as clear as the day, that he by his own merits was able to show signs of virtue, who could through the bounty of CHRIST, obtain the like for others, if occasion had required. But for the better satisfaction of those allsoe, who together with the Jews require visible signs, to show sainctity; and for the greater edification of those, that by the example of saints, seek to stir up and advance themselves to higher degrees of virtue, I am determined to set down some few miracles, which our Lord wrought at his intercession, thereby to rouse up the slothful dullness of our minds, and strengthen the feebleness of our hearts, inclined rather to want of belief, than ignorance of what we rehearse. XIII. A NOBLE woman in the city of Rome, out of her good affection to devotion, and religion, was wont to make offering breads for the altar, and every sunday to bring them to the Church, and deliver them to the holy Pope himself, presuming on her custom and familiarity in so doing. One day it happened that when she came (as the manner is) to receive at the hands of the Blessed Pope, and he offered to give her the sacred Eucharist saying; Corpus Domini noflri jesu Christi etc. She smiled, and that so broadely, that the holy man perceaving, refused to give her the communion, but turning again to the altar, laid that sacred particle by itself, commending it to the Deacon to be reserved, until the rest of the people had communicated. And the Sacred mysteries of Mass being ended, B. GREGORY demanded of the woman, what was in her mind, which moved her to laugh being about so dreadful a work. I perceived (said she) that particle to be of the same bread, which I made with my own hands, and offered unto thee; and understanding it to be called the Corpus Domini, the body of our Lord, I could not but laugh. Then the holy Bishop made a speech to the people hereuppon, earnestly exhorting them to make humble prayers unto our Lord, that for the strengthening of the faith of many, he would make that visible to corporal eyes, which the misbeleef of this woman, aught to have beheld with the spiritual eyes of the soul, and the light of faith. And prayer to this effect being publicly made, the holy man together with the people, and the woman, arose, and returning to the altar, in the public view of the people, that pressed on to behold that heavenly spectacle, he discovered the Pall, or Corporal, where he found the Sacred Host turned The Sacrament appeareth in true form of flesh. into the form of flesh, and part of his little finger, which touched it, stained with fresh blood; in the mean time the whole multitude of people, and the foresaid woman herself looking on. Then turning to the woman; Learn now (said he) at least to believe the truth, bearing witness for itself. The bread which I joan. 6. Proof of the real presence. give is my flesh, and my blood is truly drink. But the foreseeing Creator of our weakness, by the same power, by which he created all things of nothing, forms unto himself (the holy ghost concurring thereunto) a body, out of the flesh of the ever-virgin MARIE; and by the Sanctification of the same holy spirit, and virtue of the Catholicque prayer, he daily converteth Bread, into his Body, and wine mingled with water, into his blood, for the reparation of our infirmity. This said; he commanded the whole company to beseech the divine power to reform that Sacred Mystery, into its former shape, whereby it might be made communicable for that woman; which was presently done. And she afterwards increased in strength to her faith, and religion, being consecrated in the participation of that blessed Sacrament; and all that beheld this miracle, grew more fervent in the love of almighty God, and more fortified in the Chatholicque belief. XIV. ALLSOE a man noble by birth, and as powerful in authority, according to the manner of his royal magnificence, had by many between-messengers obtained the familiarity of the Apostolicque A nobleman sendeth to him for Relics. sea, and been sufficiently instructed in the worship of God, and his saints, by the frequent admonishments of S. GREGORY, in his letters to him; sent some lusty men of his, with Gifts unto the holy Pope, desiring to receive back some relics of the blessed Apostles, & Martyr's bodies. The Pope honourably entertaining those Ambassadors, stayed them some while with him, he in the mean time, never ceasing to visit, and go about the sacred tombs, and monuments of the holy Apostles, and Martyrs; and after the old fashion, celebrating his holy Sacrifices to this purpose, when he had finished the Masses of these Saints, whose Relics were demanded, he reserved every linen corporal a part, on which he had executed those Sacred mysteries, and put each of them into a box by itself. This done, he sealed them with the seal of his Apopostolicall authority, and delivered them to those petitioners for Ecclesiastical uses. Who with due reveerence received his benediction, and departed merryly away. But having spent some days in A rash curiosity. their journey, the chiefest amongst them told his fellows, speaking out of an over curious folly, that in vain they had undertaken the labour of so great a voyage, returning ignorant of what precious stuff they brought back to their Lord: therefore breaking up the seals of the Apostolical dignity, they opened the boxes, and found in each of them, nothing but a poor parcel of linen cloth. Therefore returning in a great fury to Rome, thy made their complaint to the Archdeacon: For what cause (said they) doth our apostolic Lord the Pope, so basely esteem of our Lord and Master, who was in hope he had gained so high a place in his favour, that he would thus delude him, and purchase to us dishonour, and blame in his sight? For indeed we thought ourselves the bearers of some present worthy the worth of our Master, as the bones of the holy Apostles or Martyrs, from so great a Prelate as this, especially having taken so long, and hard a journey to find it, and yet we have received no other treasure then some small parcels of cloth, as if such kind of rags were not to be found with us. Surely had not our own careful wariness been our aid, to make us find out what we carried, we had returned like fools to our Master, and not without the great impeachement of our credditt, and favour with him. But the Archdeacon gave a modest check to their presumptuous boldness for adventuring, in a matter of such moment, to violate the Papal feales, exhorting them to return, & with honour present what they had received to their Master. But by no means would they listen to his counsel, till they were brought to the presence of the holy Pope, who having found the matter, had great patience with their folly, and commanded them to be present at the Sacred mysteries of Mass. Which done, and come to the place where he accustomed to preach, he persuaded the people to supplicate for so much favour at the hands of almighty God, and his Saints, that he would voutchafe so to manifest his power herein, that those who less evidently, and who alltogeather ignorantly believed, might know of how great merit true faith was. The prayer being ended, he took a knife from him that had violated the seals, and upon the altar of S. PETER'S body thrusting it into one of those pieces of linen, cut it in two: whence strait there issued a stream of blood that sprinkled the linen all over. But the straingers, and all the Nonte a wonderful miracle. people seeing this wonderful, and hidden miracle of our faith, fell flat to the ground, adoring our Lord the worker of miracles, and crying out with the Psalmist: God is wonderful in his Sainsts, the God Psal. 67. v. 38. of Jsrael he will give virtue, and strength to his people; Blessed be God. And silence made, B. GREGORY among others documents of faith, said to those that before so lightly esteemed of holy relics: Know Brethren, that in the consecration of the body, and blood of our Lord JESUS CHRIST, when for the Sainctifying of relics in honour of his Apostles, or Martyrs, to whom they were specially assigned, in the oblation of that Sacrifice on the holy altar, their blood shed for the name of JESUS CHRIST, entered these . All that had seen being much edified, and strengthened in their faith, he sealed up the boxes again with his own signet, and delivered them the incomparable rewards of his good wishes: who returning joyfully home, made a formal relation unto their Master of what had happened, and gave him the accomplishment of his good desire. For he receiving the precious patronages of the Saints with great reverence, and honour, set them up in an eminent place, where even to this. day it hath pleased almighty God, to the praise, and glory of his sacred name, to work more frequent miracles, then in S. PETER'S Church at Rome. XV. THERE was a man in Rome powerful in riches but poor in A man that divorceth his wife. religion, who abounded no less in vices then in goods; for having conceived a displeasure at his wife, contrary to the precept of our Saviour, he gave her a bill of divorce. This could not lie hid from B. GREGORY, for the greatness of the fact, and the persons, quickly betrayed it. Therefore he earnestly, and incessantly endeavoured to persuade this wretched man, first with mild admonitions, then with the terours of the district judgement of God, to return again into grace with his wife, from whom he could not be separated, but either by death, or the mutual consent of both parties. But he, being prevented with a diabolical stubbornness, contemned his good admonitions; Whom S. GREGORY, by apostolical authority, segregated from the communion of the Church, till he recanted. But the Is excommunicated by S. Gregory. wretch slighting that excommunication, and taking it very ill, heaped sins upon sins; for breathing revenge against the holy man, he hired two magicians with money, to exercise the skill of their black art against him. Therefore as one day the B. Pope went in procession, they stood waiting a fare off for his coming, but not knowing him, they were told that to be him riding in Pontifical dignity, with troops of Churchmen on all sides. Then looking upon him, they began with their sorcery, to vex his horse; and strait the holy man calsing upon the name of our Lord JESUS Two magicians miraculously punished. CHRIST, with the sign of the Cross driven away those diabolical practices; and casting his eye aside, as soon as he beheld the Magitias, they were suddenly strucken blind, & fell down backwards, being themselves assaulted by the same devils. Whereby the Blessed man understood, that mischief to be wrought by them: and being brought before him, they betraved the whole course of the Matter: For ever (answered the holy Pope) you must remayme in your blindness, left seeing make you attempt your former wickedness again. But in the name of our Lord JESUS CHRIST, and the help of S. PETER the Apostle, be ye hereafter freed from the affliction of the devils. Being immediately delivered from those ill spirits they belecued in CHRIST, and were purged in the sacred font of Baptism: and remaining for ever in the sentence of their blindness, from thence forward by the command of S. GREGORY, they were maintained with a stipend from the Church. XVI. A Tyrant that with an insufferable importunity wrought See the force of his Eloquence. great mischief to the peace of the holy Roman Church, most cruelly wasting, and spoiling her lands, & tenantes, being often admonished by messengers from the holy Pope, he not only neglected those warnings, but grew into greater madness in so much, that he adventured to sack the City itself. Against whom as he came towards Rome, B. GREGORY went himself in person, and having spoken unto him, he found (God so disposing) so great efficacy in his divine words, that he gave most humble satisfaction unto the Holy Pope, and promised ever after to be his obedient subject, and a devout servant unto the Roman Church. The same man falling afterwards into a mortal disease, he sent to entreat the prayers of the holy Pope: and it was answered him, that our Lord would as yet give him time to repent, and that being morefully recovered, he should be able to fall to his meat, as strongly as he had done before. Who obeying his commands, received his former health, and lived faithfully ever after. XVII. As the same most perfect, & grateful servant of God GREGORY, went one day into the Market place of Traian the Emperor, The Emperor Traiave. built with such magnificent workmanship, he found that memorable accident; that in times past when that Prince of the world, entrenched about with thick troops of armed soldiers, went on a hasty expedition, he met there a poor widow fallen away with old age, and grief, who with a weeping voice cried unto him: Most pious Prince Traia●e (said she) behold here the men that have slain my only son, the only staff, & comfort of my old age, & now desirous to kill me too, they will not deign to give me any account, or recompense for him. To whom he, hastily passing by, as his business required; when I return (said he) tell me of this, & thou shalt have all justice. My Lord, (replied she) & if thou do not return, what shall I do! At that word he stayed, & caused the guilty people to be brought before him: And would not stirrea foot from the place, (albeit much pressed by all his followers, with the great haste of his journey) until out of his own exchequer, he had caused to be paid unto the widow all that was adjudged unto her by the decrees of the law: & at length being bowed to mercy with the repentant tears, and prayers of those supplicant offenders, not so much out of his soweraigne power, as by their entreaty, and his own gentleness, he freed them out of the chains of the Praetor. For this cause the venerable Pope GREGORY much grieved in mind, began with weeping lamentations as he prayed, to ponder with himself these Prophetical, and Euangelical oracles. Thou (o Lord) hast said; judge ye for the Orphan, Isa 1. 17. and defend the widow, and then come and argue me. Forgive, and ye shall be forgiven: For the names sake of thy glory be not unmindful (and I am allsoe an unworthy sinner) of thy most faithful promise, in the just deeds of this devout man: And going, to the holy shrine of S. PETER, he prolonged his prayers with weeping, till falling, as it were, into a sweet sleep, he was rapt in an ecstasy, in which, he understood by revelation that his prayer was heard, but that he should no more presume to make the like petition for any that died without Baptism, he deserved to be punished Upon which matter curious wits that have perfect faith, may move some questions, and more such as believe the truth faithfully related: those things, which among men, are, or seem to be impossible, are easy with almighty God, and profitable to be declared. Yet in this act the safest way for all, is to reverence the secret judgement of the divine power, and piety, and no man to discuss, and examine the same. XVIII. To conclude, after his death it hath been faithfully related unto us by Peter Deacon, a virtuous, and religious man, and Peter Deacon seethe the holy Ghost in form of a Dove ou●r S. Gregory. for the deserved worth of his religion, and service, very familiar with this our most holy father, that when the never enough named vessel of election, and house of the holy ghost GREGORY did interpret the last vision of the Prophet Ezechiel, the curtain being spread between him, and the same Peter, who writ as he did dictate; the holy Doctor being silent at times, his servant bored a little hole in the curtain, and spying through it by chance, he saw a dove whiter than any snow sitting on his head, that held her beak along time close to his mouth: and when she withdrew it thence, the holy Pope began to speak, and his scribe to write what he said. But when that Sacred organ of the holy ghost was silent, again his servant Peter laid his eye to the hole, and he beheld him, his hands, and eyes lifted up to heaven, as at his prayers, receiving the beak of the white dove into his mouth, as before. Which the holy man at length understanding by the revelation of the same B. spirit, he became wonderfully sad, severely threatening, and forbidding him by Apostolicque authority, ever to reveal to any man what he had seen, during his life. Which command he faithfully observed, till after the death of the Blessed Pope, being compelled thereunto by the envy of some wicked persons (who did condemn the holy man of pride, and presumption, for speaking such, and so great matters touching the mysteries of heavenly secrets) he faithfully revealed that he had seen all these things, which are here related. After the holy Pope's A famine in Rome. death, when a migthie famine raged too too much not only in the city of Rome itself, but in all the adjacent countries there abouts, and the Pope his successor opened the barns of the Church to those that would buy corn; and shut them to those whom B. GREGORY had ordered to be maintained with Church-stipends in the monasteries, Deaneries, and hospitals, in and about the City, they began (compelled with extremity want) to cry out unto the Pope: My Lord, let not your holiness suffer those to perish with hunger, whom our holy father your predecessor S. GREGORY, endeavoured hitherunto to nourish. He grieving at their lamentations, answered; that albeit GREGORY, to the renown of his praise was careful to maintain all the people, yet we are not able so to do; and so he let them departed void of comfort. Which answer having been often times repeated to those that cried unto him, B GREGORY appeared thrice in a vision unto him, and S. Gregory appeareth to the Pope. rebuked him with a mild chiding, for detracting of him, and his own niggardliness, warning him withal of the extreme want of those poor people. But he was nether moved therewith to fulfil his commands, nor refrained his tongue from those ill reports, nor yet opened his hands to the exercise of bounty towards the needy. Whereupon S. GREGORY appearing the fourth time unto him, gave him a horrible check, and threateningly struck him a blow on the head, with the grief whereof he died not long after. XIX. THUS much briefly of the life, and deeds of S. GREGORY. But as long as the sphere of this world shall hold its course, his memorable name shall always receive increase. For doubtless it is ascribed to his glory, that the English Church becomes always fruictfuller with a new offspring of sanctity, and allsoe that by his divine learning, many throughout the world forsaking their offences, are converted to the mercy of CHRIST, and others incensed with his pious admonitions, more earnestly labour to attain to the Kingdom of heaven. Which most Blessed Pope when he had gloriously governed the sea of the Apostolicque Roman Church, thirteen years, six moveths, and ten days, being taken out of this mortal light, he was translated to the indeficient glory of the Kingdom of heaven. His body was buried in the Church of S. PETER the Apostle before the Sacristie, the thirteenth day of March, to rise hereafter in glory with the others Pastors of the holy Church. On his tomb was written an Epitaph which because it comes short of the worth of so great a Saint, we omit. AND This is the life of S. GREGORY as it was briefly written The Authors of his life. by Paul Warenfrid commonly called Paul Deacon; much more might be said of this glorious Pope, and much more is said of him by many grave authors of his life, Onuphrius Panuinus in his Epitome of the Roman Bishops; S. ILDEPHONSE a Benedictin monk Archbishop of Toledo, in his book of the writings of famous men, Photius Patriarch of Constantinople; and more amply than all John Deacon a Benedictin Monk hath written four books of his life; in a word the world is full of grave authors and learned men which endeavour to speak his praises, but in the end all confess their pens fare too weak, and unable worthily to write, what he so excellently was able to do. He is styled by them to be, A man of wonderful A worthy commendation of S. Gregory. learning, Prince of the Divines, light of the Philosophers, splendour of the Orators, Mirror of Sainctity, and Organ of the holy Ghost. But out of a large Catalogue of other famous writers the trumpets of his glory, I will only recite some few words which Saint ILDEPHONSE before named saith of him: Saint GREGORY, full of a ceiling of the fear of God, and exceeding in humility, was through the grace of the holy Ghost endowed with so great a light of science, that not only these present times, but nether could the time past ever show his equal. For so highly he excelled in the perfection of all deserts, that setting aside all comparisons of famous men, antiquity can show us nothing to parallel him: For he overcame ANTHONY in sainctity, CYPRIAN in eloquence. and AUSTIN in science etc. And saint ISIDORE writeth that not any doctor of his time, nor of the ancients nether, was comparable to him. And as it is in the 8. Council of Toledo, that saint GREGORY in moral matters ought to be preferred before almost all the doctors of the Church. He died the twelfth day of March in the year of our Lord 607. the third of Phocas the Emperor. But that I may end where I began, how fare is the greatest part of our wretched Country fallen from that religion which this The conclusion. holy Pope first planted therein? Nay such as he himself, and the Apostles he sent were, that is Priests and Monks, are now held for wicked traitors, and whatsoever slanders worse can be uttered against their holy profession and function. O what would Blessed Saint GREGORY say if he lived now to see his pious labours come at length to so unhappy a period? to see Churches pulled down, Monasteries rob, priests tortured, imprisoned, and hanged, all goodness, piety, and religion expelled, and beat into corners, all vice, impiety, and heresy set abroach, to lead men headlong into the bottomless gulfs of damnation. But let us hope at lest for better, and expect till the goodness of almighty God shall please to receive us again into his favour, whose eternal providence doubtless, hath permitted us to fall into these miseries, being pulled thereunto with the weight of our own heavy sins, and offences. Let us make our daily prayers unto our Lord I. C. that by the merits, and intercession of this glorious Saint, our first Father, and Apostle, whom he so highly exalted both in heaven, and earth, that he would grant us the grace to imitate that pattern of life and religion, which he hath laid before us in his own works, and sent us at first by his disciples. Whose care of our Country as in his life it was very great, so since his death even to this day, he hath not forgotten us, for, as than he sent his Benedictin Monks to bring the first tidings of catholic religion amongst us English, so yet he ceaseth not to send from a monastery lately built and dedicated to his holy name, many learned men of the same Benedictin order, and religion, to labour in the conversion of souls to their ancient catholic and apostolic faith. For whom, I the unworthiest amongst them, dare boldly avouch so much, that they are all ready to seal the writing of that faith & religion which they preach, with the testimony of their own dearest blood. God of his infinite mercy through the merits of this glorious saint, grant grace unto our wretched country, so to listen unto those, and others her teachers, that she may return again to the unity of our holy mother the Catholic, and apostolic Church. Amen. The life of S. PATRICK Bishop and confessor, Apostle of Jreland MAR. 17 Written by joceline a Monk of Furnes SAINT PATRICK, for the excellency of his virtues worthily surnamed the Great, was borne of the race of ancient Britan's, in that part of Wales now called Pembrookshire; but the glory, and fame of his divine learning, life, and miracles, shined chief among His parents the inhabitans of Jreland, who then were called scott's. His father's name was Calphurnius, his mother's Conquessa, sister to the great Saint MARTIN Archbishop of Tours. In his Youth, together with his two sisters and a brother he was taken Captive, and like an other Joseph, sold into Ireland to a king named Milcho. And as Joseph He is sold into Ireland being a Slave in Egypt, was after a long suffering of adversity, raised at length to the supreme power & Princedom of the country, so PATRICK having endured the affliction of his sale and slavery in Ireland, received the dignity, and primacy of the spiritual government of the same. Joseph furnished the hungerstarud Egyptians with grain; PATRICK in his time, nourished the poor Irish languishing in the blindness of Idolatry, with the wholesome food of the Christian faith. They both tasted the smart of bodily affliction, for the greater good of the soul, and were as gold in a furnace purified in the scorching flames of adversity. Then by the command of the Prince, PATRICK was made guardian of the King's hogs, in the north part of the Country; when it was strange to see He keepeth swine the wonderful increase of that ffock, under so pious a guide. The holy youth bowing humbly to his fortune, turned that necessity His exercise of piety being in misery. into a virtue, and having by this office purchased to himself a solitariness; he piously laboured in the salvation of his own soul. Dwelling in the mountains, woods, and caves of a desert, he exercised himself in prayer, fasting, and meditation, wherein he tasted the divine sweetness of almighty God; being amidst these afflictions, often visited, and comforted with angels from heaven. It was not the cruelty either of heat, cold, frost, or snow, or any other roughness of weather that could fright him from his spiritual exercises: But he still went on courageously in his pious course, daily increasing, and profiting more and more in the way of virtue, and growing stronger in faith, and the love of JESUS-CHRIST. II. AT LENGTH, the almighty goodness, that freed the children of Israel out of the bondage of Egypt, delivered his servant Patrick, by special miracle, out of this affliction, and restored him after six year's servitude in Ireland, to his native country and friends He hath a vision. again, to the great joy, and comfort of his parents, and kinsfolks. He remained some days with them, till by the occasion of a dream or vision, he was inspired otherwise. For he saw a man in his sleep, who, as he through, came out of Ireland with many letters in his hand, whereof he gave him one, which began thus: This is the voice of the Irishmen. And having read so much, he seemed at the same instant to hear the voices of many infants in Jreland crying out of their mother's wombs: We beseech thee holy. Father come walk amongst us, and deliver us. And a waking, he gave thanks unto allmigtie God, judging for certain, that God had called him to convert that country. Therefore, he resolueed to settle himself to the study of holy learning, and the better to put his resolution in practice, like an other Abraham, he left his country, parents, friends, and all, and went over into France, where, under the learned tutorship of He studieth in France under S. German. S. GERMANE Bishop of A●xer, he spent eighteen years in the continual study, and reading of holy scriptures. And at length, the fame holy bishop seeing the great signs of virtue, learning, and religion in PATRICK promoted him to the sacred dignity of Priesthood. Then he departed to his uncle S. MARTIN Archbishop of Tours, with whom he stayed some days reading, and conferring what he had learned: And because S. MARTIN was a monk, he gave likewise the monastical habit to his cousin, together with all his manner of regular observance, which PATRICK not only received with devotion, but persevering ever after therein was an ornament to the habit he wore with the corespondencie of his virtuous life and actions. And in all things shown himself worthy of so noble, so virtuous an uncle, and so excellent a master. This done, he returned to S. GERMAN with whom he had not stayed long, before he revealed unto him an earnest desire he had to go to Rome, the fountain and head of all true religion, and Ecclesiastical discipline. S. GERMAN He goeth to Rome approved his good purpose, and gave him all the furtherance he could for his journey. But by the way he chanced to meet with an holy Hermit who gave him a staff, which was said to have been in the sacred hands of JESUS-CHRIST; and by virtue of this staff, he wrought many miracles afterwards, and it was held in great veneration among the Irish, and is to this day, by the name of jesus-staffe. But S. PATRICK being safely arrived at Rome, was very honourably entertained by Pope Celestin the first, who then governed the sea apostolic, and finding him to be of a most perfect, & approved faith learning, and virtue, first gave him the name of PATRICK (for before he was called Suchar, or Suchet) and having invested him with episcopal dignity, afterwards he sent him to preach the faith of CHRIST He is sent to Preach in Ireland. to the rude inhabitans of Ireland. Not long before, he had sent thither for the same purpose, one Paladius his Archdeacon; but the Jrishmen, refusing to receive him, and his doctrine, he was forced to return back to Rome; and afterwards coming into England died in the confines of the Picts. Therefore S. PATRICK not only succeeded him in that holy embassage, and labour, but fare exceeded him in the fruit he reaped out of both. And truly the works and miracles which are reported of him in the conversion of that country, are so many, so infinite, and some so beyond the degrees of admiration, that they seem almost to be beyond faith too. At lest they are fare beyond the limits of this short treatise, and therefore I wittingly omit the greatest part of them, not that I think them void of all truth, (God forbidden) but because, some are reported with overmuch piety, or credulity, and by such authors at first, whose names are unknown, and consequently their testimony cannot carry his just weight in the balance of true history. But before we enter into S. PATRICK'S preaching in Ireland, let the great S. HIEROME tell us what manner of men he had to deal with. That nation (saith he) had The rudeness of the Irish people. not proper wines, but as if they had read PLATO'S. Policy, and followed the example of CATO, like beasts they satiated. their lust according a● every one thought best. He likewise affirmeth that he himself being in France had seen lib. 2. contra Jovin. cap. 6. those people eate man's Flesh, and that they were wont when they did light on shepherds. that kept their flocks in woods and desert places, to cut of the buttocks of men, and the paps of women, affirming those to be the only delights of all other meats. No wonder then, that it pleased almighty God to show such strange signs, and miracles, by S. PATRICK; as so many necessary instruments to work the conversion of that rude, fierce, & barbarous people, whose iron hearts could not be mollified, but in the powerful flames of wonderful great virtue, and sanctity. III. S. PATRICK therefore and his fellows coming a shore amongst this rude people in the north part of the Country called Vl●ter, found His entrance into Ireland. a multitude of Pagans expecting his arrival, come to meet him. For their Magicians, & Negromancers had foretold his coming before, and therefore, the chief king of the Country Leogarie by name had provided that watch thinking to make his entering into the Island, his going out of the world. Against whom presently that dogged crew let lose a cruel mastiff, to give the gripes of death unto the holy Bishop. But the dogg● forgetting his wont fierceness, was strucken so dumb, and stark at the sight of the holy man, that he stood like a stone, without any show of motion: giving an evident token, that his setters on, who worshipped Idols of stone, were like the Gods they worshipped. Which being perceived by one Dichu One Dichu endeavoureth to kill S. Patrick. a man of mighty strength, and stature, he strait lifted up his sword to give the holy man his death. But his strength became feebleness, having the force of the almighty opposing it; for his arm, and whole body grew in a moment so stiff, that he could neither move his foot to go on, nor bring down the Dichu conuer●ed by miracle. threatening blow he intended. Whereupon, by the preaching of saint PATRICK, he presently became a new man, renounced his Idolatry, and was washed in the sacred font of baptism, together with all his family. So that he, who in that Province was the greatest and chiefest impugner of Christianity, became the ringleader, and first professor thereof: and constantly remained in the same whilst he lived. And as at that time, his soul was released out of the bonds of sin, so likewise all the parts of his body were restored again to the function of their wont strength, and vigour. Therefore he gave unto saint PATRICK, as an argument of his newly conceived devotion to Christian religion, that land with the appurtenances, where this miracle happened, to build a new Church thereon: and this Church (according to the desire of Dichu) was not built from East to west (as the manner is) but from North to south; perhaps, that from the Northern coldness of Paganism, those Idolaters might be incited by the mystery of this edifice, to the meridian fervour of Christian faith, and charity. In this place afterwards S. PATRICK built a famous monastery, into which he introduced a convent of perfect monks and ordained S. DONE his disciple abbot thereof: with whom he himself returning from his labour of preaching, was wont sums times to remain. iv AS ONCE he celebrated the divine sacrifice of mass in the same Church, a wicked Magician maliciously thrusting a long rod in at the window, overturned his chalice and shed the most precious Ransom of our Redemption upon the altar. Whereat the holy man being exceedingly troubled & grieved in mind, burst out into tears, when on the sudden, behold by the divine handy work of God, the chalice A magician miraculously punished. appeared again standing upright in the place before him, and no ●igne could be seen on the aulthar clothes of that divine offering. But the diabolical worker of that mischievous act escaped not a just punishment for his temereity, for at the same instant, the earth itself (as it were weary, and ashamed to carry such a hellish monster (opened her bowels and swallowed him up alive, to send him to his grand-master of darkness in hell. And in the same place, as a token of God's revenge, there remained a hollow ditch ever after. Then S. PATRICK went to Milcho, under whom he had lived before in servitude, and Milcho burneth himself, & his goods. now he hoped to deliver him from the servitude of the Devil, to the sweet freedom of CHRIST'S gospel. But he hearing of his coming, those rather to give himself a perpetual slave to hell, then to seem to become subject to him, that before had been his servant For having gathered all his wealth and goods together into a heap, & put himself into the midst, he set all on fire, & having so burnt his body in sacrifice to the devil, he made, as it were, a torch of his riches to light his soul the direct way to hell. This being seen and understood by Saint PATRICK, he sighed, and wept grievously for the space of two hours; and at length opening his prophetic mouth, he foretold, that in punishment of this wickedness, none of his children, or generation should ever enjoy the government of their father's estate, but should live as slaves all their life time; as after wards it fell out. And S. PATRICK, returning back to his beloved friend, Dichu, stayed sums days with h●m, continually preaching teaching, and strengthening the Christian faith with his wonderful learning, He overthroweth the Magicians. zeal, & miracles; so that the Idols of Paganism began every where to be destroyed, and the number of Christians daily increased. And albeit his good endeavours were most cruelly resisted by the Magicians (whereof that Country was full) yea by the main upholder of magicians, the chiefest King of all the Country, yet strengthened with the armour of God's heavenly grace, and a secure conscience, he passed through all those difficulties. For like unto an other PETER, he called down a magician, that in defence of his Idolatry was flying towards heaven, to receive deaths rude salutation on the earth: And as an other Moses, who put down the Magicians of Egypt, he overcame many doctors of that black art, in showing of straying signs, and miracles which discovered and dissipated all the fantastical illusions, and deceits of their hellish practices. V BUT King Leogaires heart like a second Pharaoh was hardened The king's malice against S. Patrick. so fare, that the more virtues shined in S. PATRICK, the more he endeavoured to exercise his renengfull wrath against him, for seeing his magicians, whom so highly he favoured, by his means confounded, and especially to revenge the death of his greatest diabolical favourite, he assembled a troop of men together to murder him, which the holy man perceaving, with an undaunted courage went towards them, using that verse of the Psalm. Let God rise, and his enemies be dissipated: and let those that hate him, Psal. 6●. v. 1. flie from before his face. When on a sudden there arose such a terrible His wicked troops are dispersed. earthquake, such horrible thunderclapps, threatening to shiue● the vaults of heavenn into pieces appeared in the glittering skies, that some of that evill-minded company were slain out right, others totally disheartened, and the whole crew put to flight. And such a spirit of giddiness seized their distempered brains, that they fell furiously one upon an other, friend and brother against brother, till the greatest part of them were slain, only some few escaped away sorely wounded. The King himself being shrewdly affrighted herewith, fled secretly away, and hid himself out of the reach of that madding multitude. The queen came humbly and reverently unto the holy Bishop, to entreat peace, promising to induce her husband to receive the Christian faith; And he according to the Leodegaires sayned friendship discovered. agreement, came to the holy man, and falling on his knees, feigned in words to adore Christ, whom his heart never thought on: and promising to obey all his admonitions, he falsely invited PATRICK to vouchsafe the nextday to honour, his house with hispresence. Who all be it he knew by revelation the deceitful heart of that Host, yet putting his whole confidence in almighty God, he yielded to his request; and on the morrow, through all the death-threatning watches, and ambushes laid for him by the way, he passed unknown, & unseen, till he came to Taragh where then the king was, & entered the Palace hall as they were at dinner; to the great admiration of the whole company. Then by the instigation of the king, many damnable plots were practised against his life by those magic professors of devilishness, all which, through the power of our Lords holy protection, & the virtue of the holy cross, he not only miraculously escaped, but utterly ruined and destroyed, by his contrary signs, and miracles. But all this heat of virtue did nothing mollify▪ the iron-heart of Leogaire, but rather incensed him more, and more against the And all his followers swallowed up in the earth. holy man, seeing his works prevail so much over the power of his hellish doctors. Therefore again he mustered a troop of damned ministers to murder him. But before they could bring their wicked purposes to effect, the earth (not able to bear such wickedness any longer) opened under them & swallowed up their bodies alive, to send their souls to the merciless gulf of hell. Which being seen, & understood by the inhabitans of that country, they were strucken with exceeding terror and amazement, & lest they should come to the like mishap, they all believed in JESUS-CHRIST, and thronged together to receive the holy Sacrament of Baptism. And the king humbly demanded pardon for his temereity, which the saint easily gave him, but could not persuade him to embrace the Christian faith; therefore he left him to follow his own ways, prophesying that for his hardness of heart none of his generation should afterwards enjoy his kingdom. But his queen believed, was Baptised, and ended her days happily. VI AND S. PATRICK having confirmed those new Christians in The queen becometh a Christian. their faith, took shipping, and sailed to the Province of Meth, where he came on land at the mouth of the river Boin; But leaving those barbarous people in the Blindness of their Idolatry, he went to one Conallus a great man in those parts, and brother to the foresaid Leogaire, and him he converted to the Christian faith. And thence he departed to the Province of Conaght, where being at his entry much resisted by two magicians his ordinary enemies, at length overcome with miracles, they believed in JESUS-CHRIST, and were Baptised. Therefore the holy man holding on his course of preaching, destroyed as he went all Idols, and in a public assembly of a very great multitude of people, where were allsoe present the seven sohnes of Amblaich, all famous for nobility of birth, dignity, power, and riches, the man of God, that he might in such a multitude gain many souls to CHRIST, got into the very thickest of See the courage & confidence of S. Patrick. the throng, and lifting up his spiritual weapons of the gospel, to cut down the brambles of Idolatry, he began to preach the true faith unto them: when a Magician called Ro●hait rising up against him endeavoured to cut of the thread of his exhortation, & life at once. But the power of all mighty God, who always defendeth his servants, sent a thunderbolt suddenly from heaven, which sent the soul of that minister of mischief, to the perpetual service of his black master in hell. This so manifest, & so terrible a miracle being seen & marked by all the multitude, the seven foresaid brethren, & twelve thousand men besides, were converted thereby to the Christian faith, at the preaching of S. PATRICK, and were all cleansed from the diabolical marks of Paganism by receiving the Sacred character of Twelve thousand persons converted. Christianity in the holy font of Baptism. And leaving the gowernment of this people to a holy man called Mancenus, He him self traveled over all the Province of Conaght, attending incessantly to his pious labour of preaching and teaching those barbarous people, until by the helping grace of the holy ghost, he had converted, and baptised the whole Country. He built Churches in many places and ordained therein Priests, and other Ecclesiastical ministers by whose prudence and piety the souls of the people might be governed in the truth, and the divine office duly, and reverently performed. VII. THIS DON, S. PATRICK went again into the North part of Ireland, preaching, teaching, converting, and baptising all the way as he went. Thence through the confines of Meath, he traveled to the Province of Leinster, leaving at certain places some of his scholars to execute the office of Bishops amongst the people he had converted. But how great miracles he wrought in all this and in other his journeys over that rude country, how many sick persons he cured, how many Magicians he confounded, how many dead he raised to life, how many things to come he foretold, and upon how many his adversaries almighty God poured forth the renengfull ire of strange punishments, it fare exceeds the bounds of this weak pen to set down, and this short treatise to contain. He arrived at length at the city of Dublin, where Aiphin the king thereof with his son, and his daughter called Dublinia (from whom the town took name) and almost all the people, The town o● du●lin converted. were converted at once to the Christian faith. Hence he traveled to the Province of Monster where being kindly received of the King called Oengus, he baptised him & the greatest part of his people. And there he is said to have raised eighteen persons from death to life at once, besides other particulars. But seeing so plentiful a harvest in Ireland, and but few workmen, he passed over the seas into Wales, where with his learning, and zealous labour he prevailed much against the Pelagian heresy then reigning, and made many places there allsoe famous for his miracles and sanctity. As he returned with a new supplie of holy and learned coadjutors towards Ireland, he diverted into the I'll of Man (them subject to the Britan's) He converteth the I●e of Man which by his preaching, and miracles he converted to the saith, and left some of his fellows there to conserve it in the same. VIII. BEING returned into Jreland, he chanced to convert a noble man called Darius, who seeing and admiring the wonderful virtues and miracles of the Saint, gave him a large, and fertile piece of land in the province of Vister, where S. PARTICK having considered the He buildeth the town of Armagh. pleasantness and commodity of the place, built a fair city now called Armagh: into which he induced no other inhabitant but such as himself knew to be well, and sound grounded, and instructed in the Catholic faith. He allsoe adorned the same with Churches, Monasteries, and Nunneries, which he furnished with a learned Clergy, virtuous monks, and religious women, who all lived under the rules of Ecclesiastical, and monastical perfection, assigned unto them by S. PATRICK. In the same town he ordained his archiepiscopal sea, which he desired to make the Metropolitan Siluester' Gyraldus in topagr. Hib. of all Ireland; and to that end he made a journey to Rome, to have all confirmed by the supreme authority of the Sea Apostolicque. The Pope received him with great courtesy, as the Apostle of Ireland, gave him 〈◊〉 pall, made him his Vicegerent, or Legate in that Country, and confirmed by Apostolical authority, whatsoever he had ordained, disposed, or done in that Kingdom. And withal gratified his pious labours with the treasure of many relics of the Apostles, S. STEPHEN and other Martyrs to enrich the Country at his return. Moreover he gave him a certain linen stained with the sacred Blood of our Lord JESBS-CHRIST, which he-esteemed above all. Load with this spiritual wealth, the blessed man returned to his Province, and having made his archiepiscopal sea of Armagh the Metropolitan of all Ireland, those relics he placed with great reverence in a shrine behind the high altar. And the custom of that Church hath been ever since the time of this glorious Relics of Saints worshipped▪ in S. Patrick's daics. Saint, on the feasts of Easter, and Whitsunday, to produce those sacred treasures to the public view of the people, to be reverenced and worshipped by their devotion, according as the worth of such sacred things required. But in his return from R●me, this unwearied servant of JESUS-CHRIST made some stay in his native Country of great Britain, where again he left many rare memories, and monuments of his excellent virtues, and labours. And being in Ireland he settled thirty bishops (which he had brought from beyond the seas) in diverse places of that abundant Harvest, to cultivate, and manure it with their learning, virtues, and good works. These he himself was wont oftentimes to visit, as their Metropolitan, to call them to Council, to direct them in the Ecclesiastical government; striving all ways to root out whatsoever was found contrary to Christian law, and justice, and to promote what was conformable to the holy Canons of the Church, and good manners: shining in the mean time (as always) with almost innumerable miracles, that whatsoever he either taught or ordained by word of mouth, (like a true Apostle) he strengthened, and confirmed with wonderful signs which followed. Among which he shown in nothing so great, and general a benefit to that country (excepting their conversion to Christianity) as this which now you shall hear. S Pa●rick frieth ●eland from three pest●●ē troubles. XIX. IRELAND from the first time it was inhabited grieviously suffered the continual troubles of three mortal discommodities: an infinite number of venomous Serpents; visible troops of ugly devils; and a multitude of witches, and magicians, their servants. For, the number, and power of poisonous create 〈…〉 s so prevailed in that Island, that men and other beasts were not only infected with their venom, but many times slain, and devoured. The Devils allsoe, who were masters of those superstitious Idolaters, appeared visibly unto them both in the air, and on the land, and forced that wretched people, with difficulty to purchase their own peace, by many Sacrifices, gifts, and labours done in their behalf, and honour, and glad they were, that so they could escape the fury of that hellish crew. And lastly so many Sorcerers, Witches, Negromancers, and the like swarmed in all parts of that Island, that no history reporteth the like of any other country. But from the danger of this threefold misery, the thrice happy Bishop PATRICK delivered that miserable country by the virtue of his prayers, and intercession to almighty God, in so much that it hath remained free from all venomous beasts even to this present day; nay the wood that groweth there being brought into other countries, killeth all venomous serpents that come near it, as I myself have experienced on a ●oade: so that this is a perpetual miracle, still visibly continued & maintained by almighty God, through the merits of his servant S. PATRICK. Thrice Happy Jland had he obtained a safeguard of defence from the sting, and poison of heresy, as he did from other venomous serpents. Many of the Magicians he converted to the true faith, others that remained obstinate their wickedness received just punishment from heaven. And for the Devils their masters (whole troops whereof at his first entrance he beheld, at is were laying a siege round about the country) he banished them all, no● only out of the hearts of these Idolaters, but allsoe from appearing in their horrid shapes to terrify the people as they were wont. But the passport of their freedom from these furies was not for ever, it went out of date, when together with heresy, the Devils, and their diabolical ministers entered into the country again. X. HAVING purged the whole Island in this so●t, as well from the He visiteth the whole countroy of Ireland. blindness of Idolatry, as allsoe from all other venom, and venomous things, accompanied with a sacred troop of his holy disciples, (having with accoustumed devotion celebrated the feast of Easter) he traveled all over the whole country, every where teaching, & preaching the truth of the gospel, & either converting to the faith or confirming the already converted in the faith, with the force, & efficacy of his divine eloquence: In so much that all the Irishmen, to whom, as much as the fame & knowledge of his name arrived, by reason of that so renowned, & profitable a miracle, yielded themselves, & all they had into his hands, and devoutly obeyed his doctrine, institutions, and precepts, and were submitted to him as their true Apostle. Therefore this excellent Husbandman, perceiving the stonnie hardness of our Lord's field to be mollified, by rooting out and destroying all the briers, brambles, and rubbege thereof, made it more abundantly fruitful, with a new supplie of the most wholesome feed of the Evangelicall precepts, and counsels; whereby it might bring forth not only the thirtieth or sixtith, but the hundredth increase of fruit, and profit. For he made the whole country, and all the inhabitants He separateth every tenth head to out Lord thereof, to be tithed, and divided; and every tenth head as well of men, and women, as of all other beasts, he caused to be separated as the part, and right of our Lord. All the tithes of the men, he made Monks, those of the women, Nuns, for whom he built sufficient Monasteries, and assigned the tenth part of the Land, and the beasts to maintain them in that sacred course of life. Whence it was, that within a short time, there was scarce any ermitage, desert, or other corner of the Island, never so remote, that was not furnished with perfect monks, or Nuns, in so much that Ireland was by a special name rightly styled the, ISLAND of Ire 〈…〉, the Island of Saints. SAINTS, all the world over. They lived according to the rules, and statutes prefixed them by S. PATRICK, till within some years after, all or most part of them received the rule of our holy father Saint BENEDICT. In S. PATRICK'S days, and a long time after; no man was either chosen Bishop, or promoted to the spiritual government of souls, unless he were first marked out for that purpose, by divine revelation, or some other evident sign of sanctity. XI. BUT having said thus much of his external labours exercised His own private exercises of devotion & austerity. chief in the behalf of others, let us turn a little towards his own private exercises of devotion, and manner of life; which was such & so admirable, that it fare exceeds the bounds of this treatise, & the weakness of this pen to declare worthily. He was want every day in the strength of his devotion, to recite the whole Pfalter over, with many other hymns, canticles, and prayers: he kneeled three hundred He kneeled 100 times a day. times a day, and armed himself with the sign of the holy cross one hundred times in every hour of the day: and no one day passed, wherein he did not most devoutly celebrate the holy Sacrifice of Mass. The first part of the night, he spent in singing of psalms, during which, he kneeled down two hundred times. Then entering naked into cold water, he finished the rest of his devotions in that suffetance. Afterwards lying down upon a bare stone, with a pillow of the same under his head, he refreshed his wearied body with a little shortsleepe; or rather he repaired his strength again to endure the labour of his accustomed, and continual conflicts. Being in the mean time always girt about with the rudeness of a sharp hay●cloath, to keep down the law of his body, from rising, and rebelling against the law of his mind. Till the fiftieth five year of his age, he always traveled on foot, after the manner of the Apostles; but coming afterwards into Ireland when he was advanted to the dignity of Bishop, he was carried about in a waggon used then in that country, by reason of his difficult journeys & labours in preaching. Over his other garments he wore a slender white cowl, that his habit itself might inform, and colour seem to represent him as a pattern His habit, gesture, speech. of monastical profession, and a pious student of innocence, & humility. In his looks, his countenance, his speech, his gate, and in every other gesture or motion of body, he bred great edification to those that beheld him: and his discourse, always seasoned with the salt of wisdom, was agreeable to every age, sex, degree, and condition. For he was skilful, and ready in ●ower distinct languages, His gift of prophecy. the Welsh, the Irish, the French, and the Latin; nether was he wholly ignorant of the Greek. In the Irish tongue he writ a book of Proverbs, full of good learning: and an other great volume called, Canoin Phadruig, that is, the Canons of Patrick, very sit to direct every secular, or Ecclesiastical person in the exercising of justice, and obtaining of their soul's health. Besides all this, he was wonderfully endowed with the spirit of prophecy, by virtue whereof he foretold very many things to come, and had the perfect knowledge of things absent, as if they had been present within the view of his own corporal eyes. And namely of the Saints that should live in Ireland, and specially within the Provinces of Conaght, & Munster, for the space of a hundred years after, he foretold the names, virtues, and places of their habitation. Whomsoever he either bound, or absolved, the divine justice approved by evident signs to be bound, and absolved. Those unto whom he imparted his benediction, received the Blessing of our Lord; and against whomsoever he pronounced the dreadful sentence of his curse, appeared strait replenished with the effects of malediction. And whatsoever sentence proceeded from his mouth, seemed to remyane so irrevocably ratified, as if it had been denounced from the tribunal of the almighty judge. Whence we may manifestly gather, that the holy man firmly adhering unto our Lord, became, one spirit with him. But albeit in some and most of his virtues, he either paralleled, or excelled other His wonder full humility. Saints of God's Church, yet in humility he overcame himself: For in his epistles, & letters, he was wont to nominate himself, the lowest; left, and contemptiblest of all sinners. And making small account of the wonderful miracles, and signs he wrought, he would not da●e, to judge himself equal to any the meanest man in perfection. Nether amongst all these virtuous employments did he omit to exercise himself in manual labour, as in fishing, and tilling the earth; but chief in building of Churches, he would both with word, and example incite his disciples to put to their helping hands. When nevertheless, he did most instantly insist in baptising of the people, and ordering clergimen for church-service. For he consecrated with his own hands, three hundred and fifty Bishops, he founded seven hundred Churches: and promoted five His infinite miacles. thousand persons to the degree, and dignity of priesthood. But of other clergimen of inferior orders, of Monks, and Nuns which he segregated from the world to the divine service, none but he can tell the number, who knoweth, and forseeth all things. In this most holy manner, running over the days of this present life to attain to the desired prize, and reward of the future, he flourished with so many, and so great miracles, that therein he is second to none of the Saints his predecessors. The blind, the lame, the dease, the dumb, the lunatic, the lepers, and all other diseased, and grieved persons, in the name of the Blessed Trinity, and by virtue, of the holy Cross of our redemption, he restored to perfect health, and the natural function of their limbs. Among which, he is reported to have been the marvellous raiser of thirty three from death to life, a thing not read of any other saint of God's Church. Of which and other his miracles, & virtues, thereescore and six books are said to have been written, the greatest part whereof perished in the violence of fire, during the reign of Gurmund, & Turgesins. But four treatises of his life written at diverse times, four of his disciples. S. BENI●NVS his successor, S. MEL, & his nephew, LUMAN Bishops, & little S. PATRICK his dear child, are found yet extant. And S. EVIN allsoe compiled his life in one volume, partly in Latin, & partly in Irish. Out all which jocelinus a Monk of Furne the author of his life, whom we have followed in this history, maketh profession to have gathered his whole treatise of S. PATRICK. XII. AT length, the beloved servant of almighty God S. PATRICK, He forseeth his own death loaden with age, and merits, having now faithfully, and strongly ended the course of the charge committed unto him, foresaw, both by divine revelation, and the dissolution of his own body, that the eue●ing of his life was at hand. And being in the Province of V●ster not fare from the city of down, and with him the precious pearl of Jreland S. BRIGITT, and a great number more of Ecclesiastical, and religious persons, as the blessed saint preached unto them of the heavenly glory of the saints; and the dwellings of the happy, a glittering light appeared over the East part of the Churchyard of Down which was supposed to design the place ordained for his sacred burial. And this being so expounded by S. BRIGITT, the same light presently returned out of their sight towards heaven, to foreshow thereby that his Blessed soul should in like sort ascend to the ioics of Paradise. Then S. BRIGITT, who had He falleth 〈◊〉. a desire he should be wrapped in a which purposely she had made for that end, hastened to her monastery to fetch it. When in the mean time the holy man retired himself to the next monastery, where in the midst of a great multitude of his devout monks, he laid him down on the bed of his last sickness, expecting the end of this mortal life, or rather happily aspiring to the beginning of the immortal. Until the disease growing still stronger drawn on with the weight of old age, or rather, our Lord calling him to a crown of justice; the most blessed, and happy bishop felt the hour of his death to draw-neere, and rejoiced that now he was arrived at the secure haven of life into which through the gates of death he hastened. Therefore being by the hands of S. THASACK Bishop, his disciple, armed with the divine sacraments of the Church; and lifting up his eyes His happy departure. to heaven, like an other saint STEPHEN, he beheld CHRIST JESUS in the midst of whole troops of Angels, expecting to receive him into the everlasting joys, Into whose sacred hands, (blessing his disciples, and commending them to God) he delivered up his most pure soul, passing out the th●●ldon of this world, to the neverdying ●oies of heaven. O most blessed man to whom the heavens were laid open, whom together with a lily white company of Virgins, MARIS the immaculate Queen of heaven received, whom legions of Angels admitted into their divine quires, whom the foreseeing troop of holy prophets do accompany, whom the judicial Senate of the Apostles embraceth, whom the laureate crowns of sacred martyrs bautifieth, the assembly of glorious confessors adorneth, and whom an innumerable multitude of all Gods elect Saints, and heavenly burgesses do honour, and glorify for ever. XIII. HE DIED the seaventeenth day of March in the year of our Lord 493. in the first year of Anastasius the Emperor and in the hundred A summary of his life. twenty third year of his age▪ At the age of sixteen, he was carried into banishment; six years he lived therein; eighteen years he spent under the tutorship of S. GERMAN and S. MARTIN his masters; at the age of fifty five years, ennobled with the dignity of Bishop, he entered into Jreland to preach; thirty five years he laboured in the conversion of that, and other Lands; and the other thirty three years, the remainder of his whole life, he passed over, attending chief to the sweetness of a contemplative life in a monastery, sometimes at Armagh, and sometimes in others places. Nether was he easily drawn out of those sacred sainctuaries, but upon the urgent occasion of some unevitable and weighty affair. Nevertheless, once in a year he was wont to summon a Provincial Council; to reduce those that swerved from the truth, to the rules of the Catholic Church. Being shrouded in the Linen of S. BRIGITS providing, he was buried with wonderful great reverence, honour, and glory within the city of Down, in the very place foreshowed by the light from heaven, on the east side of the Church. Over his tomb is writ a latin distich which in English goeth thus. At DOWN these three lie in own Tomb. Patrick, Brigett, and holy Columbe. Whereby it is manifest that S. BRIGITT whose life you have the first Psal. 8. of February, and S. COLVM●A Abbott of whom God willing we will treat the ninth of june, were both buried in the same Tomb with The conclusion. S. PATRICK. XIV. AND here I invite all that have read this history, to cry out with the royal psalmist: O Lord, our how admirable is thy name through all the world, who hast crowned thy Saint with glory and honour, and seated him above the works of thy hands. For these indeed are the works of thy hands, which so much we admire, and wonder; the conversion of a whole Country, by the untired labours and endeavours of this thy chosen and beloved servant: for, him thou didst appoint thy deputy, and lieutenant in this holy, and wholesome affair, wherein when diverse before had employed their greatest zeal and industry, yet because he was specially elected, and selected by thee for this holy purpose, thou didst voutchase to adorn him with the working of many strange and miracles, more than almost any other of thy Saints, that on the rudiments, and foundations of those his predecessors, he might plant the consummation and perfection of the whole work: These works and miracles are thine (o Christ only worker of worders) who ever truly wonderful in thy Saint's daignest to glorify them with so great authority, and power, as they are able to glory in the triumph purchased over the infernal enemies of mankind, God of his infinite goodness make us partakers of the merits and prayers of the glorious, Saint. Amen. An Annotation. Many wonders are related of a place in Ireland called S 〈…〉 ICKS Purgatory, which he is reported to have obtained of almighty God for the conversion of those incredulous people, who refused to believe what he preached touching the pain●● of hell, and ●●ies of heaven, unless by some means they might see, & taste of 〈◊〉 ●●th, in this life. Into that place those that entered with a strong constancy of saith, & a true desire to do peanance for their sins, felt unspeakable torments, after which they enjoyed most glorious visions of the joys of heaven, and returned the third day again Many make mention of this strange Purgatory, as 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Bishop of Ossor & vice primate of all Ireland, Henricus Salter an English Monk of the Gistercian Congregation who writ a book expressly of the Purgatory of S. PATRICK dedicated to the Abbot of Sart●s; he lived five hundred years ago; MATHEW Paris an English monk of S. benedict's order; Dionysius Carthusta●●● very learned and holy ●an in his treatise dequatuor Novissimis; and others. But because Jo●el●●● the Author of S. PATRICK'S life whom we have followed maketh no mention of this his Purgatory, we have likewise past it over in silence, yet judging for certain that such a place is really ●●●●nt in Ireland▪ as experience hath taugh●●● in man●e that 〈…〉 into it, and namely in one Owen a soldier, who in the reign of King Stephen passed through those torments for peanance of his wicked life, and at his return related many wonders he had seen and felt; as the foresaid Authors do testify. depiction of St. Edward S●…●DWARDVS REX ANGLIAE ET MARTI … 〈…〉 The life of Saint EDWARD King and martyr. MARTINO 18. Written in an ancient manuscript recited by Surius THE NOBLE King EDWARD lineally descended from the royal and ancient blood of our English Kings: and which is fare more famous, being baptised by the most holy Archbishop of Canbury S. DUNSTAN, he began from his tender years, to excel in virtue, and piety of life. The incomparable King Edgar was his father, a man renowned as well in feats of arms, as in peace; his mother was called Eifled, daughter of a most, powerful duke of the East-Angles. But noble Edgar, having subdued not a few places of that land, and brought them under his subjection so that he obtained the Monarchy over all England divided before between many and diverse Kings, by exhortation of those two columns of the English Church, and Benedistin religion S. DUNSTAN Archbishop The pieti● of Edgar. his father. of Canturbury, and S. ETHELWOLD of Winchester, caused many Benedictin monasteries in those vanquished Provinces to be repaired, and re-edified at his own cost & charges, and some to be built new from the ground: and in some of them he placed Monks of S. benedict's order, in others nuns of the same, all which he furnished, and founded with ample rents, and revenues to maintain therein the service and servants of almighty God from the injuries of necessity. He had allsoe by a second wife an other son called Ethelred. But EDWARD, that was the elder, being a child of wonderful great towardliness, carefully avoided all the lascivious & ensnaring pleasures of this world, and endeavoured so to behave himself towards God, and man, that before all things he rendered himself most pleasing unto God, by his worthy integrity of mind and body: and to men he became most grateful by his modest and courteous carriage in all things; shining withal to the world with all industry, wisdom, and prudence. These things so highly pleased his renowned father Edgar, that he ordained him for his heir and successor in the government of the Kingdom: and within King Edgar dieth. a while, all the affairs of the Realm being rightly settled, and composed, the most pious, and glorious King Edgar, changed this life for a better, in the year of our Lord 977. and of his reign the sixteenth, the eight day of july. II. EDWARD, according to his father's will, was by DUNSTAN, and other Peers of the Realm, installed in the royal chair, and invested with the robes and signs of royalty: But on his very Coronation day; many of the nobles, and Lords made great opposition against him, in favour of his younger brother Ethelred, whom they desired to advance to the crown. Nevertheless the good resolution of saint DUNSTAN was Edward i● crowned King. nothing daunted herewith, nor moved from his sentence; but placing in the midst the sign of the Cross which was wont to be carried before him, together with other Bishops of the realm, he consecrated EDWARD their King: and embraced him ever after while he lived, with a true paternal love, having from his tenderest years, adopted him to be his child. EDWARD therefore having taken into his hands the Sceptre, and government of the Kingdom, was by CHRIST the greatest, and chiefest King of Kings, directed in the way of truth and justice; and albeit he were seated in the height of royal majesty, yet he daily increased more and more in submission, and humility of mind. And the better to rule his His prudence in governing. Kingdom with the raines of prudence, he refused to use the counsel of young Princes, and Lords of light and youthful heads; but obeyed in all things, the admonitions of the worthy Prelate S. DUNSTAM, and following his, and other grave religious men's counsel of approved life, he would pronounce his sentence in judgement. And inheriting the virtues of his thrice His love to Monks. worthy father, with great strength and magnanimity of mind he behaved himself in managing the affairs both of warlike, and Ecclesiastical discipline: always appearing severe, and terrible to his enemies and other wicked persons, but (according to his father's lesson) most courteous and humble to good men, and especially to monks, and religious persons, whom always he defended from all trouble, and vexation. Moreover, his daily exercise was to feed and maintain the poor, to the naked, and to esteem that his greatest gain, which he bestowed in these pious works. Whereupon, through the goodness of almighty God, great joy, steadfast peace, and wonderful abundance of wealth, and riches, flourished all over England: to behold their king in the flower of his youth given to such pious endeavours, so affable to all men, venerable in chastity, pleasant and comely of countenance, and most excelling in prudence, and good counsel. III. BUT THE common enemy of mankind being envious at so The malice of his Stepmother Alfrith. great virtue & piety, endeavoured by all means to overthrew his happy deseignes, and to disturb the general peace and joys of the whole realm: and to this end, he enkindled the wrath of Alfrith his Stepmother against him, who from the beginning, took it in ill part that he was preferred to the crown, before her son Ethelred. And therefore this detestable ambitious woman could no longer keep fecret the wicked intentions of her mind, but communicated them unto her impious consellers, desiring, and entreating them to favour her designs, and invent some way whereby they might depose EDWARD out of his lawful throne, & put the sceptre of the government into the hands of her son Etheldred; and all this her factious mind endeavoured to bring to pass, not so much, that he might govern, but that he being but a child governing, she herself might get a fair pretext to take the sovereignty into her own hands, which was the main mark of her endeavours. But who were her favourites, and Hist. Eccl. sec. 10. cap 4. Gulmalm 2. de reg. cap. 9 Baron. an. 975. counsellors in this practice of mischief? Those chief (saith Nicholas Harpsfield, following other Ecclesiastical writers) were the secular Clergy men, and their adherents, who grieved to see their chaps bereft of so worthy a morsel by the monks. And among others Alfere Duke of Mercia stood stiffly for her cause. But when he perceived that he could not satisfy his impotent desires, this champion of wickedness, turned all his wrath, and unbridled cruelty, to the ruin, and destruction of all the Benedictin monasteries within his dominions. Till God, the allmigtie defender of his servants, sent him afterwards a deserved punishment, by the means of worms, and louse which swarmed all over his body in such abundance, that they eat him up alive. But the importune Queen (who therein chief played a woman's part) not able so soon to disburden her mind of her Duke Alfere punished. preconceived mischief, expected still a fit occasion to put her impious desires in execution. iv AND NOW the holy King EDWATD had reigned three years, and eight months, when it happened one day, that he went on hunting into a forest near the town of Warrham in Dorsetshire, which at that time was great, and full of godly wood, although now there appear nothing but bushes of brambles, & rubbish. Where having King Edward goeth to visit his Brother Ethelred. wandered a while up & down after his game, he had a great desire to go see his brother Ethelred, whom he loved dearly, & who was brought up in a castle of his mothers called Corfe, but three miles distant from Warrham. Thither-ward the good King, accompanied with some few of his followers bend his course; but his company, foolishly wand'ring after the pleasure of their own game, and pastime, left the King alone, who being within view of his Stepmothers house, like an innocent lamb thinking nothing of the mischief and treason prepared, and knowing his own conscience most free from offence of any man, went securely thither alone. The Queen was presently advertised of this coming; who rejoicing to see a long expected occasion brought so to her hand, and making courtesy the outside of mischief, with a face as meaning no guile, ran forth to meet him, & cheerfully saluted, and bade him welcome, desiring him to grace her and her son with his presence that night. The good King refused to light from his horse, saying that his coming was merely to salute his brother, and talk with him. Then the falsehearted woman, caused strait a He is martyred by the command of Alfrith. cup of wine to be brought him. The wine being come, the cup was no sooner at his mouth, when thinking no harm, he felt a Knife in his back, which one of that treacherous Queen's servants bolder in wickedness then the rest, and readier to execute a mischief, feigning to salute the King, as Judas did our Saviour, had violently strucken into his body. Having received this mortal wound, with all his strength remaining, he set spurs to his horse thinking to return to his more faithful company. Till fainting through loss of much blood, he fell from his horse, and one foot being entangled in the stirropp, he was pitifully dragged up and down through woods, and lands, leaving all the way as he went, bloody signs of his death to those that followed him. The bloody scene of this barbarous fact, was acted in the year of our Lord 981. Baronius saith 978. and (which is horrible to be spoken) within the sacred time of lent, that is the eighteenth day of March. And doubtless it fell out so, by a particular dispensation of the divine providence, to the greater glory of his holy Martyr, that he, who according to the laudable custom, & institution of true Christians, did worthily prepare himself to celebrate the most sacred time of our Lord's Resurrection, in mortifying his body with the annual fast of lent, and other exercises of piety and devotion, meeting with a happy end, might be received into the palace of everlasting joys, loaden with the fruits of his good works. But when the Queen understood His body i● hidden. that he was fallen dead from his horse (envying him dead of Ecclesiastical burial, as alive she did of his princely diadem) she caused his body to be cast secretly into the next cottage, lest her wickedness might come to light. Her cruel servants obey their mischievous mistress of impiety, and contemptibly cast it where they were commanded, and covered it with a little straw. V IN that house where the body lay, was none but one poor woman borne in blindness, and she they supposed would tell no A blind ●oe n●u ●ur●d at his body. more than she could see: who, the night following watching at unawares by the Sacred body, suddenly by the merits of this B. Martyr so recovered her long desired sight, and saw a great light, which filled her little house, with a wonderful splendour: in memory whereof, afterwards the Christians built a Church in the same place. On the morrow, the cruel Queen having learned of the woman what had passed, she began very pensively to fear lest the murder whereof she was mother, should come to be known. And therefore she commanded those Sacred relics presently to be cast into a marsh near adjoining, where together with his body she hoped to bury all memory of him. And then among her own servants, and followers she made public mirth, and banquet, strictly commanding His holy relics are bur●ed in an obscure place. every each one to make no show of grief or sorrow for his death. This done, to avoid all suspicion of the murder committed, she went to an other house of hers some ten miles distant from thence. But Ethelred her son (although herein nothing like his Mother) so mournfully bewailed the death of his dear brother, See the cruelty of a wicked▪ woman. that he could neither contain his tears, nor would admit any consolation, or comfort. Which the cruel Queen took so ill that in a rageful fury she fell upon him, (finding nothing else at hand) beat him with a handful of wax candles so long, till she forced him, if not to qualify, at left to bridle, and disssemble his grief. But how almighty God discovered the body of this Glorious Martyr, and brought it to be made famous, and miraculous to the world, we have already said on the feast of his translation the eighteenth day of February, whither I remit my good reader. It only remains no, that we make our daily prayers to this Glorious Saint, who is so powerful with almighty God, to be mindful of our sinful wretchedness in this pilgrinage of misery, and to obtain pardon and grace for us in this world, and life everlasting in the next. And chief all those of the Benedictine family, and profession, ought more peculiarly to pour out their devotions to this Blessed Saint, who was murdered in the defence, and protection of them, by the adversaries, enemies, and enviers of their order, and glory. This life we have gathered out of the author thereof in an ancient manuscript recited by LAURENCE SURIUS tom. 2. and out of WILLIAM MALMESBURIE lib. 2. de reg. JOHN CAPGRAVE. NICOLAS HARPSFIELD see. 10. cap. 4. BARONIUS an. 987 & 978. and others. The Roman martirologe maketh mention of him this 24. day of March; and in the Sarum Breviary he hath an office of nine lessons, and in an ancient manuscript breviary of S. benedict's order which belonged to the monastery of Burton upon Trent he is celebrated with on office of twelve lessons. decorative device depiction of St. Cuthbert S. CUTHBERTUS EPISCOPUS LINDISFARNENSIS 〈…〉 The life of Saint CUTHBERT Bishop, and Confessor Monk of the holy order of S. Benedict. MAR. 20. Written by venerable Bede, in two books. THE holy Prophet Jeremy furnisheth us with a very fit beginning for the life of this most Glorious Prelate S. CUTHBERT, bright ornament of the Benedictin family, when extolling the state of an anachoreticall life, he saith: It is Thren. 3. good for a man to have carried the yoke (of our Lord) from his youth. He will sit solitary, and be silent, because he will lift himself abou● 〈◊〉 self. For the B. man of God S. CUTHBERT, moved with the sweetness of this so great Good, sub 〈…〉 red his neck to the yoke of a 〈…〉 asticall profession, from the beginning of his youth; and taking 〈◊〉 him sometimes as ●●casion served, a● Anachoreticall co 〈…〉 on; he was delighted to sit in solitariness, and through the del●●●ous pleasure he found in 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, to keep his lips silent from all worldly discourse. But to the end that in rip●● years he might more profitably 〈◊〉 these 〈◊〉 he 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 with a heavenly grace by 〈◊〉 and 〈…〉 to embrace the ways of truth, and Goo●●●●. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 the 〈◊〉 of eight years, he was only delighted in all 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 sports, & pasti●●es which that age His childhood. is wont to follow, ever desiring to be with the first at boyish meetings, and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 And being of a 〈◊〉 wit, and by nature 〈…〉 wont for the most part to g●tt 〈…〉 all his 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 in ●eaping, running, wrestling, or ani● other such exercise: in so much that when they were all wearies, he like an vn●amed little champion, and Victor of 〈…〉 ll, would 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 ani● were disposed to buckle with 〈◊〉 ani● in 〈…〉 the fields in the heat of these 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 sports 〈◊〉 pleased 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 God to touch him with a 〈◊〉 contrary spirit For a little child but three years old C●●●bert being a c●●ld, i● divinely warned by a child. as it seemed, ran to him, and with an aged constancy began seriously to exhort him to forsake those childish exercises, and to betake 〈◊〉 a more modest, and grain manner of life. But he slighting 〈◊〉, as he thought, ba●●●● admonitions, repaid them home ●ith injurious words: when the child fell flat on the earth, & with a pitiful countenance blubbered with tears, spoke to CUTHBERT who came to comfort him, with these words: O most holy God is 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 his saint. Bishop CUTHBERT, it is not seemly for thee to play the child amongst children, whom almighty God hath ordained, and destined to be a master of virtue unto ancients. CUTHBERT gave diligent ear hereunto, and this speech remained fixed in his mind, the same holy spirit instructing him inwardly in his soul, that by the mouth of the infant spoke openly to his hearing. And to give him a further warning, he was suddenly taken with such an exceeding pain and contraction in one of his knees, that by no means he was able to go. Till being carried forth one day into the fields a little to recreate his spirits with the sight of those green carpets of nature, and reposing himself under the open heavens he preceaved a horseman exceedingly shining in apparel, come towards him, who demanded if he would show any service or duty to such a guest; most willingly (replied CUTHBERT showing his knee) did not this pain hold me prisoner for faults past. For this is a grief, which exceeds all art of physic to remedy. Hereat the horseman lighted, & diligently viewing, & reviewing the sore, boil (said he) some wheaten flower in milk, and apply it hit to the swelling, & thou shalt be He is cured of a pain in his knee cured. This said, he rid swiftly on his way, and at the same instant CUTHBERT came to know that he was an angel sent from God. And from that time, this devout child (as he himself was wont to assure his familiar friends) being oftentimes besett with adversities, through his prayers to almighty God, deserved to be guarded by an Angel; & by the same means, to deliver others out of the straits of many eminent dangers. II. BUT it happened afterwards, that he was turned to the wild mountains to become a shepherd; where as one night, all his fellows being asleep, he watched carefully over his flock, and passed over the tedious hours of the night in prayer, he beheld a glittering light, which dispersed the night's horrid shades, and a great troop of bright shining creatures which came down from heaven, & carried up the soul of S. AIDAN Bishop of Lindisfarne, a man of wonderful virtue, and piety, to the joys of everlasting happiness. Being greatly astonished, and rejoiced with this vision. If for one nights watching, and prayer (said he to himself) I have deserved to behold such wonders, what reward shall I receive, if I bend all the forces of my soul, wholly to the contemplation of divine things? And at the same instant he resolved to forsake his flocks, and embrace a monastical life. Therefore, shaking off the fetters of the world he departed thence, and entered into the way of heaven, travelling night, and day alone without either meat or drink, to find out a quiet haven wherein he might securely harbour at the sweet shore of contemplation. At length he arrived at a Village, where he stayed only to refresh his wearied horse, for he himself could not be entreated to taste any food, because it was Friday which he fasted in honour of our Lord's passion. Thence therefore he Fasting on Fridays. departed fasting, and held on his journey through deserts, and forlorn places, which he could not overcome before he was overtaken with night, so that he was constrained at length to lodge in a poor forsaken , expecting the next daylight. Where falling to his prayers, as his custom was, greatly moved with compassion to see the poor beast his horse quite toiled, and tired out with the journey, almost fainting for want of food, he gathered up a handful of hay which the wind had blown of that weak cottage, and gave it him to eat: which done, again he betook himself to his prayers, for the space of a long hour. When in the mean time, he saw his horse lift up his head, and (hunger compelling him thereunto) He is fed miraculously. he began to unthatch that poor , still drawing it down by morsels, till at length there fell out a white linen wrapped up together; which the holy young man perceiving, having ended his devotions, he opened it, & found therein half a hit loaf, and as much meat as was sufficient for one meal. Being greatly astonished hereat, he lifted up his hands, and eyes towards heaven, and gave thanks unto almighty God: I acknowledgs, o Lord, (said he) that it is the bounty of thy goodness, which hath voutchafed to feed me in this forlorn solitude; as in times past thou didst nourish Elias in the desert. III. AT length he arrived at the desired end of his journey the monastery of Mailros, where at his first coming, he was prophetically commended by a holy man named Boisil, who no sooner beheld CUTHBERT, but he cried aut to the assistants; Behold a true servant of God: and having understood his pious desires, he made them He taketh the habit of a monk. known unto the holy Abbot Eata, who presently gave him the Benedictin habit, and tonsure; whereby being ranged under the spiritual warrfare of JESUS CHRIST, he became strait an invincible champion therein, excelling all his other brethren in watching, fasting, and prayer, and other exercises of a monastical life. And after some years, king Alchfrid having bestowed some land at Rippon for the building of a new monastery, Eata made choice of CUTHBERT, with other religious Monks, to furnish the same, under the same rule, and monastical discipline as the other. And within a while, he was put into the office of receiving and entertaining the guests, and other poor pilgrims which came to the monastery, wherein he discharged his duty with so great joy, and diligence, that every one highly commended their good entertainment, and his extraordinary good will. Going forth early one morning to visit He entertaineth a● Angel in a human● shape. the cell of his guests, he found amongst the rest, a young man of a very beautiful countenance, and taking him to be a man indeed, he entertained him after his sweet manner of courtesy, gave him water for his hands, washed and dried his feet, covered the table, and let pass no duty of his charitable office. And as he urged him to eat, and repair his forces weakened with travelling, the guest refused. I conjure thee by the name of almighty God (replied CUTHBERT) to refresh thy a little, whilst I go fetch thee a loaf of He receiveth three loaves of an Angel. bread newly baked. He went, and returning with all speed possible, found that his new guest was gone: whereat being much amazed, he sought, in the snow newly fallen, to trace which way he was gone; but finding no sign of him, he was more amazed then before; and casting his eyes about, he perceived that he had left three milk white loaves behind him, from which came a most sweet odour, and then, with trembling he began to imagine, that it was an Angel he had entertained, who came not to be fed but to feed. And from that time, his virtues all ways increasing, he was daily adorned more and more with heavenly favours; for he deserved often times to see, and converse with angels, & to have his hunger refreshed with heavenly meats, seasoned by angelical hands. And because he was affable, and pleasant in his discourse, and behaviour, for the most part when he proposed the pious works of the ancient fathers for patterns of good life to his brethren, he was wont allsoe humbly to intermingle what special graces, and favours the divine goodness had bestowed on his own person. And this he would do some times openly and plainly, and some times more hiddenly, under the name of a third person, according to the example of the great Doctor of the Gentiles S. PAUL. iv BUT within a short time, Ea●a the Abbot was compelled to leave the monastery he had built, and return with CUTHBERT, and the rest of his Monks to Mailros. Where CUTHBERT holding on the pious course of his monastical life, governed himself, and his actions chief by the good counsel, & admonitions of the most holy man Boisil, Prior of that place. At that time a great plague making He is strangely recovered of the Plague hovock all over the country, laid hold of him allsoe; for whose health, as a most necessary, and profitable member of that monastical body, all his brethren fell night, and day to their prayers. Which coming to the holy man's knowledge: And why (said he) do I keep my bed any longer? For doubtless the prayers of such, and so many holy men, cannot be void of effect before almighty God. No, no, give me my staff; and rising at the same instant, he committed his weak body to the supportment of his legs, and staff, when to the great admiration of all the assistants, he strait recovered his strength, and perfect health. Afterwards S. BOISIL being dead, CUTHBERT succeeded in the government of the monastery: Which office de discharged with wonderful great example of virtue, and diligence, not only for the spiritual profit of his own domesticques, but allsoe by his fruitful endeavour in converting the common people thereabouts, from the bad ways of their vices, and fond customs, to the love of heaven, and heavenly joys; partly by the good example of his virtuous, and holy life, partly with his wholesome sermons, and exhortations, and partly by the miraculous curing of many diseases. For diverse of that country had profaned their faith, and religion, with their wicked & unjust practices, and some neglecting the Sacrament of their Christian baptism, made use of diabolical, and magical physic, to rid themselves, and their country of the plague. To remedy these evils, the holy man trauclled through that country, preaching, & teaching the way of truth, and justice unto all, with very great profit, and fruit of his pious labours. For he had so great skill in teaching, such an amiable Confession of sins, & enjoining 〈◊〉 penance force in persuading, & bore such an angelical majesty in his countenance, that many forsaking their wicked life, of their own accord, would reveal, and confess their most secret, & hidden offences (for they imagined nothing could lie hid from him) & being confessed willingly underwent the works of peanance, which he enjoined them for satisfaction of their sins. But he was wont chief to visit those His labour in preaching. places, and preach in those villages, which were seated in the rude and rugged mountains, and hard to come at, where by reason of the rusticity of the people, and barrenness of the places, they were in great want of teachers. In these places, which bred a horror to other men, were his greatest delights, and in these, he would stay sometimes a week together, sometimes two, three, yea a whole month, never returning to his monastery, but labouring with his daily preachings, and examples of good life, to reduce that rude people, to the true knowledge, and love of almighty God. V IN THE mean time, the holy man began to excel in the spirit of prophecy, to foretell things to come, and to declare things absent. For being upon some important necessity of his monastery to take shipping, with two other monks to pass over into the land of the Pists, called Niduars, and the fair calmness of the weather putting them in hope to make a speedy return, they went forth wholly unfurnished of provision in victuals: but it fell out otherwise, for they were no sooner on land, but there arose such a blustering and tempestuous wind, that the sea, moved with those furious blasts, began-allsoe to be puffed up into whole mountains of outrageous waves, which hindered them quite from thinking how to return: so that being there among the cruelties of cold, and hunger for the space of some days, they were almost starved to death through want of victuals; when the holy man was never idle, but watching night and day in prayers, comforted his fellows with pious discourses, invited them to fall to their prayers, and commit themselves into the hands, and protection of almighty God, He feedeth himself and his follows by mir●cle. who doubtless would secure them in this necessity, as he did the children of Israel in the desert. And now (said he) let us go to find out what sustenance our Lord hath sent us, his servants. Then leading them under the bank where he had prayed a little before, they found three pieces or portions of dolphin's flesh, ready cut to be boiled; with which, they satisfied their hunger, and gave thankes unto almighty God for his benefits. You see, dear brethren (said he) how great a grace it is to be confident in almighty God. Behold he hath He forelleth things to come. not only sent food to his hungry servants but by the number of three, signifies how many days we must yet remain here, before the tempest cease. And it fell out as the holy man foretold. VI GOING forth one day to preach, accompanied only with a little boy, and being both wearied with their journey, and destitute of any food to repair their weakened forces; Tell me child (said the holy man) what courage thou hast by this time seeing that we have nether meat nor drink to satisfy our hunger, nor no place whither to retire ourselves for shelter. That is it (replied he) which greatly troubles me, since we have nether victuals, nor money to buy, not friend to assist us. Be confident An Eagle furnisheth him with meat. my Child, in the goodness of almighty God (answered CUTHBERT) and rest assured that he will never abandon those in time of necessity, who give themselves faithfully and with all their hearts to his divine service. Dost thou see that Eagle yonder which flies in the air, mark her well, for by her means our Lord will send us secure in this extremity. With such like discourse they held on their journey by a river side, when the Eagle having taken a fish laid it for them upon the bank: the own half whereof, the holy man caused to be left for their divine purvey or, and with the remainder he refreshed himself, and his companion in the next village; yielding most hearty thanks to the divine goodness for his benefits, where he allsoe said the people with the spiritual food of the gospel. VII. BUT AS he preached in one of those Villages, the Devil The devil seeking to hinder his preaching. a perpetual enuier of goodness, fearing left he should draw his ministers out of the stench of their vices, to the sweetness of piety and devotion, cast a fantastical fire into a house near to the Church, during the time of his sermon. But the holy man, instructed by the divine spirit, that is was but a deceit of his hellish malice, warned his auditors to listen only to the word of God, & not to suffer themselves to be deceived with those vain illusions. But the giddy multitude terrified with the apprehension of that fantastic danger, ran almost all out of the Church, to quench those false flames; which they could not do, albeit they poured on true water, until by the prayer of S. CUTHBERT the author of those fallacies being put to Is put to flight. flight, his vain flashes vanished together with him into the air. Whereat the people much astonished, and ashamed, humbly on their knees acknowledged their folly, & demanded pardon for that so great lightness, and inconstancy. Nether did he only command these fantastic fires, but allsoe true flames too, which when a whole Village could not quench with great store of cold water, were by the servant streams of his tears, and prayers, utterly extinguished, and many houses delivered, that at once were in danger to be devoured by that merciless Element. Whereby in these two miracles, he worthily imitated the virtues of two worthy ancient Saints; in chase away the feigned fire, that of our most holy father S. BENEDICT, of whom S. GREGORY the Great reporteth the like; and in the other the act of M●ircellinus the most venerable Bishop of Anchona, who when the same city was all in fire, by his prayers miraculously delivered it. Most fitly therefore unto these holy men, that of the prophet Esay may be applied: When thou shalt pass Esay. 43. through the fire, thou shalt not be burnt, and the flame shall not burn against thee. VIII. BUT LET us now see of what power this holy man was against the open fury, and war of this hellish fiend. Hildmer Perfect unto A woman possessed with the devil: King Egsrid, had a very devout wife, very much given to religious, and Catholic works; who one day being bufied in exercises of piety, giving of alms to the poor, at the same instant, she was suddenly possessed with the devil, which made her roar out with such horrid cries, and howl, that they gave sufficient testimony of the great danger she was in. Her husband, that was well beloved of S. CUTHBERT, posted unto him in great haste, and told him into what a perilous disaster his wife was fallen, entreating him again and again, by all the force of his affection, to be mindful of her in his prayers, and to send a Priest to minister the venerable sacrament of the Eucharist unto her, who was now come to the period of her life, Thus he said meaning to hide her disease, being ashamed to let him understand that she was possessed by the devil, (as supposing it to be a punishment for some secret enormous crime.) The holy man foreseeing the perplexity of his soul, and the torments of his wife: Wherefore (replied he) hast thou conceived so bad an opinion of thy wife? Not only the wicked, and such as have quite forsaken the service of almighty God, are in this life subject to the tortures, and racks of the devil, but the innocent allsoe, and such many times as are endowed with great sanctity of life, by the secret judgement of God, are tried and exercised in this world, with such like torments. But be of good courage, I will go myself along with thee, and before we be there, we shall find thy wife delivered Is delivered by to 〈◊〉 ch his bridle. out of this distress. And as they drew near to the house, where that poor captife lay languishing, suddenly the wicked spirit, (being not able to abide the approach of the holy spirit which inhabited his virtuous soul) fled away, and left the woman released out of those devilish bands: who rising as it were out of a deep lethargy, ran joyfully to salute the holy man, and taking hold only of his bridle, she was presently as sound and perfect as ever, which caused her to break into infinite joy, and thanksgiving; testifieing withal that then first she was prefectly cured, when she touched his horses bridle. IX. IN THESE, and such like works of virtue the holy man having spent many years in the monastery of Mailros, his good Abbot Eata sent him to the monastery of Lindisfarne, to plant there allsoe the Rule of monastical perfection and made him superior thereof. For Lindisfarne, allbeit it were a bishopric, yet the Bishop and all his clergy were monks, from S. AYDAN their first Bishop who was a Monk: but S. CUTHBERT was the first that reduced them to the rule and order of S. BENEDICT. For coming (saith S. BEDE in his life) to the Church or Monastery of Lindisfarne, he presently Here formeth the Monks of Lindisfarne to S. benedict's rule. delivered monastical institutions to the monks there, both by word, and work, But there were some brethren in the monastery, who chose rather to follow their ancient custom, then obey a Regular observance. Whom he notwithstanding overcame with the modest virtue of his patience, and by daily exercise converted them by little and little to a state of better purpose. But disputing oftentimes in the convent of the Rule. (Which was that of S. BENEDICT, since at that time there was no other rule extant in the latin Church) when he His great patience. was toiled with most sharp injuries of those that contradicted him, he would rise from his seat, and without any show of discontent, either in mind, or countenance, depart and dismiss the Convent for that time. But on the morrow, as if he had endured no resistance the day before, he would repeat the same admonitions to the same auditors, until by little and little (as we have said) he had brought them to his own desires. For he was a man very excellent in the virtue of patience, and most invincible in enduring courageously all adversities, which opposed themselves against him either in soul or body; and no less bearing a merry countenance in all disastrous and sad mischances: so that he gave the world to understand, that being armed with the internal consolation of the holy ghost, he contemned all extern misfortunes. Moreover he His wonderful was ch. was so wonderfully given to watching and prayer, that sometimes for three or four nights together, he took no sleep at all. And if perchance (as man's nature is) sleep forcebly seized upon him, he was wont to shake off both it, and tediousness in his prolix prayers, either with manual labour, or going about the Island, diligently searching how all things were carried, and managed. And when some others of his brethren did complain, and take it very grievously, if any one chanced to awake the out of their mightly, or noonly sleeps, he contrariwise was wont to say, that such an one calling upon him, was fare more grateful than troublesome. For he is cause (saith he) that shaking of sluggishness I settle myself to some Rare examples of goodness. good work, or meditation. He was so exceedingly given to compunction of heart, & so ardently inflamed with heavenly desires, that he never celebrated the holy solemnities of mass, but with an abundant shedding of tears: worthily imitating thereby the mystery he had in hand; when offering up the sacrifice of our Lords bitter passion, he allsoe sacrificed himself to God by inward contrition of his devout soul. He was fervent & severe in the zeal of justice to correct sinners: but very mild in pardoning the penitent; in so much, that many times hearing the confessions of sinners, he himself pitying their pittisull estates, would burst out into tears, showing the sinner what he ought to do, by his own example. With these and such other spiritual exercises, this Venerable man engrafted in the hearts of good men a singular affection to imitate his virtues, and recalled those that were stubborn and rebellious to a regular life, out of the obstinate opinions of their error. X. AFTER he had spent some years in that monastery, he He embraceth a solitary life. obtained leave of his Abbot and brethren, to betake himself to the sweet loneliness of a long desired solitude, rejoicing that from the exercise of an active life, he was thought worthy to ascend to the leisure of divine contemplation. He departed therefore into the Island FARNEN, so infamous by the habitation, and infection of devilish spirits, that none durst ever before dwell there alone. But this Ice our holy CUTHBERT broke, when like a worthy champion, armed with the helmet of health, the bucklar of Faith, and the sword of the spirit, which is the word of God, he opposed himself against that hellish crew, and dissipated, dissolved, and put to flight all their, infernal troops. And this champion of CHRIST having subdued the forces of these black Tirans, and now made monarch of that little land, he built a city befitting his empire, and houses therein agreeing unto it. Which was a little poor cottage with mud walls made of turf, and covered with straw, and in that earthen lodge this holy domesticque He obtaineth a foütaine by his prayers. lead a heavenly and angelical life. But his habitation being destitute of water (following an other miracle of our great father S. BENEDICT) he obtained by his prayers to almighty God, to have a sweet crystal fountain spring out of the hard rock, with which, and a little bread, which was sometimes bestowed upon him, he satisfied his thirst and hunger. In this place being visited by his brethren, he would go out of his cell to meet them, and wash their feet with warm water and sometimes, being compelled thereunto, he would permit them to wash his feet. For so fare he had turned his mind from the decking of his body, to labour in the adorning of his soul, that sometimes for a whole month together, nay for the space of a year, he did not once put off his shoes. Whence it was, that through his continual praying, and kneeling a great thickness of hard skin was grown over his feet. Then his desire of perfection His extreme solitariness. daily increasing, he shut himself close prisoner in his house of clay, leading a most solitary life, in continual watching, fasting, and prayer, admitting very few to talk with him, and that but through a window, and upon some important necessity. He lived by the labour of his hands digging and tilling the earth, & sowing it first with wheat, which his brethren brought him, but that his weak land would not bring to good; therefore he sowed it with barley, which increased in great abundance. When the birds, that in great troops sought to devour his li●le harvest, were forced at his only command to departed, The bird o● the air obey his command & never more touched his corn. The like he commanded, and was obeyed by the crows, and daws, which laboured to tear off the thatch of his humble buildings. But one of them returning again to the holy man, lamentably spreading her wings abroad, bowing down her head, & making a pitiful noise, seemed by all signs possible, to entreat pardon. Which the holy man understanding, gave her leave to return, as presently she did, bringing a mate with her, & for a present to the Saint, the one half of a hogs grease, which the holy man The seas, and elements serve him. was wont afterward to show oftentimes to the monks his brethren, & give them part of it to liquor their shoes or boots. See here again the spirit of his great Master S. BENEDICT, in the obedience, & service of the crows. But not only the creatures of the air, waters, & earth, but the very elements themselves, obeyed him, yea & the untuly waves of the seas did serve him, when they cast upon land a piece of timber just of the length he desired, with which his brethren, contrary to promise, had forgotten to furnish him before, & were now much abashed to see an insensible element, more careful to serve him, than they. Whilst thus he lived in his solitary course, many out of all parts of England drawn thither with the fame of his virtues, came to visit him: whence none ever returned but very well satisfied, comforted, and delivered from what anguish or trouble soever, either of mind or body. Unto S. ELFLED Abbess, he foretold the time of King Egfrid her brother's death, & who should be his successor, with many other particularities, all which truly fell out afterwards. XI. BUT a Council being held at Adtwiford under S. THEODORE Archbishop of Canturbury in the presence of King Egfrid, by the common present and desire of all, CYTHBERT was chosen bishop of Lindisfarne. Who being by many letters, and legates sent from the King & He refusoth a bishopric. Council called to the Synod, and to receive that charge, he would not stir a foot; so unworthy, he that was most worthy, judged himself of that dignity. At length good King Egfrid himself together with the most holy bishop Trumwine, & many other religious, & noble persons, went over into the Island, & falling all upon their knees before the holy man, with weeping tears, & humble entreaties they besought him, and conjured him by the name of our Lord not to resist the wishes and desires of so many, and to oppose himself to the common good of the Church: nether did they cease until CUTHBERT, He is compelled to take it. as full of tears and sorrow as an honest heart could be, suffered himself to be drawn, out of his beloved cell of solitariness, and brought into the Council: where being vehemently urged of all, he was compelled much against his will, to yield to their desires. XII. THE Easter following, he was consecrated Bish. of Lindisfarne, in presence of the King, blessed Theodore of Canturbury & 7. other bishops, at York. In which office, he so worthily discharged himself that he omitted nothing of those duties, which are wont, or aught S. Cuthbert made Bishop of York. to be performed of the perfectest, and holiest prelates of the Church, protecting his flock with his daily prayers, feeding it with his virtuous, and piousad monitions, & (which best becomes all teachers) making his own example and outward manner of conversation the perfect rule of what he taught. And of his internal virtues & perfection, the signs and miracles which he wrought as he traveled over Many miracles. his diocese preaching, teaching, and confirming his people, gave sufficiét testimony. One Baldhelm a servant of one of King Egsrids' noble men, and the wife of a great Count, drinking only of the water hallowed by his prayers, were both suddenly & perfectly cured of most grievous, and mortal diseases, when all men quite despaired of their health. An other holy Virgin, who a long time had lain languishing of a grievous pain in her head, and side, being anointed with holy oil hallowed by S. CUTHBERT, felt herself better at the very same instant, and within a few days was perfectly cured. And Hildmer an officer of King Egsrid, in drinking a little water into which was put some bread hallowed by S. CUTHBERT, received a perfect recovery of a disease incurable by any humane skill. XIII. As ONCE he visited his diocese, he chanced to come among the rude mountains and rocks, to teach, and confirm those rustic people; who not having any Church near to receive the holy man into, they erected tents, and booths in the way, such as they could make of boughs, & branches cut from the green trees: where he remained for the space of two days, preaching, & ministering the The sacrament of confirmation given by S. Cuth He cureth two of the Plague. sacrament of Confirmation, to such as had not yet received it: when in the midst of all, behold there came some women to him carrying a youth grievously infected with the plague, humbly desiring the help of his holy prayers & benediction; by virtue of which presently he restored that diseased person to perfect health, whose disease had already given the foil to all the skill of physic. But having received his holy benediction, he whose weakness was carried thither walked home with the rest in health and jollity. In like manner he cured an other child dying of the plague by giving him a kiss, and making the sign of the Cross upon him. And by virtue of the same Cross he turned water into wine. But we should never have an endyf we rehearse all his virtues in particular. XIV. THEREFORE having exercised the office, and dignity of a Bishop for the space of two years, with an admirable applause both He leaveth his Bishopric, and return to the desert. of holiness, and miracles; foreseeing by the spirit of prophecy, that the hour of his death was at hand, he resigned up his pastoral charge, and withdrew himself again to the beloved habitation of his solitary, and eremitical life, there to consume with the flames of his ancient compunction, whatsoever stains he had contracted in the managing of his worldly care, and charge. At that time of his departure being demanded by one of his ancient monks, when they should hope for his return: He answered; When you shall carry my body hither. And having passed over almost two months, in the great joy of his recovered quietness, bruising his mind, and body with the rigour of his accustomed peanance; being taken with a sudden infirmity, he began through the fires of a temporal grief, to prepare his way to the sweet joys, and refreshments of eternal happiness. Three weeks together he was continually afflicted with sickness, upon a wednsday he fell first into his disease, and upon a wednsday he died. But what sore grievances he endured all this time as well by his sickness, as the infernal spirits, it is not easy to express; especially for the space of five days, in which being destitute of all humane help, and company, he was not able to move out of the place; and being tormented with an extremity of thirst, he had nothing wherewith to refresh himself and quench it, but one poor onion, of which in those five days space, he had scarce consumed the one half. Then he desired his brethren to bury him in the same Island of Farne, on the East side of his Oratory ne'er unto a Cross, which himself had there erected: but being overcome with the vehement persuasions, and earnest entreaties of the monks of Lindisfarne, with much difficulty, he consented they should bury him in their Church. And at the same time, a monk which only touched Touching the holy Bishop cureth the bloody flux. his body, as he assisted him in his sickness, was cured of an otherwise incurable disease of the bloody flux. At length coming to the extremity of his infirmity, which scarce allowed him strength to speak, he began to bid his last adieu to his brethren; earnestly recommending unto them the observance of mutual peace and charity, the care of keeping hospitality; and above all things, he strictly charged them to remain in the unity of the Church, and in no sort to have any communication with those, who contrary to the rites, and custom of the same Catholic Church, swearued from the Scismaticques must be avoided true observance of Easter: and he wished that they should rather leave their monastery, and go seek an habitation where it should please God to direct them, then to unite with such who like Schismatics, celebrated the feast of Easter at a wrong time. Moroever, endeavour most diligently (said he) to learn, and observe the Catholic statutes of our forefathers; and particularly be very careful to follow those institutions, of regular life, which by my means, the divine goodness hath voutchafed to bestow upon you. For His departure, and burial I know, although in the judgement of some I have lived contemptibly, yet after my death, it will appear what manner of man I have been; and how my doctrine is not to be contemned. With these, and such like words, this holy man having exhorted his doleful brethren, and the night following having armed himself with the Sacred Viaticum of our Lord's body, lifting up his hands, and eyes towards heaven, he yielded up his Blessed soul to the everlasting joys of heaven, the twentith day of March; in the year of our Lord 698. as saith Baronius, but 687. according to Sigebert. His Sacred body was brought to Lindisfarne, and there received by the convent of Monks, singing the prayles of almighty God, and with the resounding notes thereof, it was buried with great solemnity in S. PETER'S Church, in a coffin of stone, on the right side of the altar; where with working of new miracles, he witnessed the greatness of the glory, and favour he enjoyed before the face of almighty God. XV. THERE was a child so vehemently oppressed, & tormented by A Child miraculously dispossossed by the merit● of S. Cuthbert. the devil, that no prayers nor exorcisms could work any good towards his delivery from that wicked guest, until a priest having compassion on his doleful parents, took some of that earth, whereon the water was shed wherewith S. CUTHBERTS' body was washed, & poured it, being dissolved in a little water, into the mouth of that tortured infant, when presently after many fearful cries, & lamentable howl, he that before breathed nothing but fury, and madness, fell into a most quiet, & sweet sleep; and the next morning, he found himself wholly released from his accustomed rage, and frenzy, professing that he was freed from that servitude of the devil that oppressed him, by the merits, & intercession of S. CUTHBERT. Surely it was a miracle, and a spectacle most delightful to all good men, to see that child walk the round of the holy Sepulchre with his father, & with a sound mind and judgement, render thanks unto the Saints for their assistance, who but the day before, through madness, rage, & fury, neither knew himself, what he was, nor where he was. The place where the foresaid water was poured, is by the Church where he was buried, towards the south. And from that time, many miraculous cures were wrought with the sam● earth, a long time after. But to the end that the sainctitie of this glorious soul might be made more notable, & famous over the world, it happened (God so disposing it for his greater glory) that eleven years after his decease, uppo some occasion the monks would needs take up his Sacred bones (imagining the flesh to he turned to that it came off) to set them in a more eminet place, or monument above ground. Whereunto holy Eadbert his successor After 11. years his body, and vestments are found uncorrupted. very willingly consented, & caused his sepulchre to be opened on the very day of his deposition, where to the great admiration of all they found his body whole, without the blemish of corruption, his joints pliant, & flexible, as if he had been alive, & in a word more like unto a man asleep, then to one that were dead. Likewise all the vestments about him were not only entire, and sound, but shining as fresh, and new, as when they were made. Whereupon all the living that beheld this unusual miracle, through fear, & amazement, became for a while more like dead men, than the dead body they looked on, not daring scarce to speak, or behold the miracle, which appeared so manifest. At length coming a little to them selues, by the council of the Bishop S. EADBERT, they wrapped that sacred treasure in new garments (for the old they had taken off) & putting it into a light shrine, they placed it over the pavement where he had been buried. XVI. THE which had been worn about that Sacred body either alive or dead, were not void from working many miraculous cures. And among others, a monk of a monastery not fare from Lindisfarne, so grievously tormented with a cruel palsy, that he had lost the use of all his limnes, and on whom the physicians had proved all their skill to be vain, had recourse to the divine physician, who cureth all diseases. For he desired his servant to bring him some particle of the garments, which had been about the holy body of S. CUTHBERT in the grave, for thereby he hoped, by the power of almighty God, and the merits of that Saint, to have help. The holy man's Shoes, which he had worn eleven A paraliti●que cured with the shoes of S Cuthbert. years in the earth, without consuming, were brought; which the diseased person had no sooner put on, but recommending himself unto the prayers of the holy man, he fell into a sweet slumber; and at midnight, when it rung the first pulse to matin's, he arose whole, and sound, and went joyfully into the Church with the rest, yielding infinite thanks to almighty God, and S. CUTHBERT. And if such wonders are wrought by his shoes, which were but as a defence to the lowest part of his body, what cannot his glorious, and thrice happy soul that is in heaven obtain before the face of her almighty Creator? This is an abridgement of what Venerable BEDE hath written, of the life, death, and miracles of the moct glorious Saint, thrice worthy Prelate, moct religious observer of monastical discipline, and bright ornanament of the BENEDICTIN family S. CUTHBERT. That which follows we have carefully gathered out of JOHN CAPGRAVE, SIMEON of DURRHAM de Episc. Dunel. NICHOLAS Harpsfield saec. 7. cap. 34. and others. A history o● the incorruption of S. Cuthber●s Lodie. XVII. WONDERFUL surely are the miracles, wrought by the almighty power of God, at the tombs, and relics of his Servants, which by the relation of the most approved histories of the Church, do demonstrate, and prove unto us, with how great merit, and favour their blessed souls are adorned in the sight of God. But of all other, none, is more wonderful, or of more efficacy to confirm our Christian belief of the resurrection of the dead, then that many bodies of the Saints have remained, and do yet remain whole, and uncorrupted, of which strange kind of spectacle, I know not whether there have appeared in any other Province of the Christian world, more worthy, and notable experiments, then in this our Island of Great Britain. Our English Histories relate many wonders of this kind, of the bodies of S. EDWARD king, and Confessor, and S. EDMOND king, and martyr: and S. ETHELDRED, S. WERBURG, and S. ELPHEGUS' Archbishop of Canturbury all three glorious branches of the Benedictine order; But whether these have remained in that integrity to this our age, it is not certain: But of S. CUTHBERT, it is a thing most known, and certain. And first, we have showed before, how after eleven years he was found entire, at the first opening of his Sepulchre, as Venerable BEDE, a witness without all exception, doth affirm. But afterwards, when the Danes fury cruelly wasted and spoilt all monasteries, and Churches in England, Eadulph Bishop of Lindisfarne, hardly escaping their bloody hands, transported that untainted body with himself to an other place. When, through the imminent slaughter, which those Barbarians outrageously committed in the country, he could not find a secure abode to rest in; he wandered secretly up and down, always carrying with him that Sacred body, for the space of seven years, having Edred the Abbott, and some others of the Clergy compartners of his flight, and pilgrimage. At last having lost all hope of conserving themselves, and that Sacred monument in England, after a mature consultation, they resolved to sail over with it into Ireland. But finding the rage of the seas, through the horrible tempests that arose, to be as much against their desires by water, as the sword of the Barbarians by land, they were compelled suddenly to return from their adventure that way. But in this their enterprise at sea, Two admirable accidents. there happened two things very wondrous: for the waves of the sea, which in a storm furiously flowed over the decks ready to over whelm the ship, were suddenly changed into gore blood, and a goodly book of the holy ghospels, covered with gold, and rich gems, by the inclining of the ship on the one side, fell accidentally into the water: and afterwards the sea retiring it for the space of three miles, was again found in the bottom, without any damage by lying in the waters, which was preserved with great care in the Abbey of Durrham, unto the Authors time that writeth this history. XVIII. BUT peace and tranquillity succeeding the turmoils of war, and slaughter, in the reign of Cuthred; and the Bishopric of Lindissarne being translated to Cunicacestre, there Eadulphe settled himself with his company, & holy relics of S. CUTHBERT. Till after one hundred, & thirteen years, the Danes making a new invasion into the country putting all to fire & sword; Bishop Alwin together with his Clergy, & the same sacred body, went to Rippon. And after three or four turbulent months were passed, he resolved to transport that treasure to its ancient seat of Lindisfarne; but being in the way His Sacred relique●remay●●●●moueable at Durrhan. near Durrham together with a great multitude of people, the chest wherein the Sacred body was carried, could by no means nor forces nether of men nor beasts be moved any further, no more than a mountain. All much astonished, and grieved at this strange spectacle, the Bishop persuaded the people to give themselves to watching and prayer to almighty God, to make known his will and pleasure in this. In the mean time, it was revealed to one Eadmer a holy monk, that they should transport the never enough named body, to Durrham: and thither it was carried without any difficulty or resistance. At that time Durrham was a desert, and horrid place, filled and encompassed round about with vast woods, and groves, although by nature fortifieable enough. The Bishop presently built a Church in great haste only of slender timber, wherein the Sacred body was conserved for the space of three years. In the mean time, by the wonderful great care, diligence, and labour of him, and of Vtred Earl of Northumberland, and the people, that vast, and thick wilderness of woods was cut down, the place itself made habitable, and a goodly Church all of stone erected, into which the unstained body of the Saint was translated with great reverence of all. And The Bishop's sea placed at Durrham. the Episcopal sea, erected first at Lindisfarne, remained at Durrham together with that Sacred monument ever after, which was the three hundredth, and ninth year after his happy deposition. Where many famous miracles were wrought through his merits, & intercession: of which allsoe the place whence first he came was not deprived. Among others, a woman, whose feet, and thighs were by a contraction of the finews, writhe, and turned backwards, in so much that as a miserable spectacle she crept from place to place on her hands, praying at this holy tomb, recovered the strength, and use of all her limbs. And going afterwards to Rome, and into Ireland, to pray, and give thanks for her health received, she diwlged all over the world as she went the great benefit she had received by the merits of S. CUTHBERT. Which the author hereof doth affirm out of the mouth of diverse Priests that had seen, and spoken with her. The same man (Simeon of Durrham) rehearseth many wonderful miracles wrought by his holy merits, after his body was brought to Durrhan. We will only make a brief rehearsal of some few. XIX. ONE Osulphe, a man of most wicked life, was set upon by Miracles wrought at S Cuthberts' tomb at Durrham. a snake which way soever he went, and albeit he rejected her very often, and sometimes burst her in pieces, notwithstanding (by what means it was unknown) she would hang about that wretched creatures neck, though without hurting him at all. But as often as he entered S. CUTHBERTS' Church, he was free, and coming forth he was presently attached again. Which being a cause of great astonishment to all, and of wonderful calamity to the poor man, he went to S. CUTHBERTS', where shrine having persevered three days, and as many nights, earnestly imploring the help of God, and the Saint, he was ever after released from that fearful annoyance. Which story this author assevereth from their words that had seen the man. About the same time, one that had stolen some pieces of money from S. CUTHBERTS' shrine, and to conceal his theft put them into his mouth, on a sudden his chaps were miserably tortured with such an sufferable pain, as if they had been seared with hit irons. And endeavouring to spit the money out of his mouth, he was not able, no nor, to speak a word. He ran up and down the Church nodding, staring, and showing all other strange motions of countenance, and body, seeking to make known his torment, which he could not utter. At length, hoping to gain a remedy where he had found his ill, he ran to the Sacred shrine, and falling prostrate on his face, humbly craved the pardon, and assistance of S. CUTHBERT, offering interest of his own, to expiate the offence committed: where as he embraced, and kissed that Sacred treasury, with the very kiss, the money fell out of his mouth, and he was released Many punished for injuries done to his tomb. from his pain. But as men afflicted with diseases, and miseries, who humbly implored his aid, received oftentimes present and wonderful remedies; so those that were injurious to this B. Saint, and his Church, were paid home for their temereity with present, and grievous punishments. And among others, Osbert, and Ella, both kings slain by the Danes, may witness; and Duke Haden a Dane, whom besides madness a most cruel sickness attached, which infected his whole body with such an horrid stench, that the army not able to endure his presence thrust him out of the camp, & flying from Tinemouth with three ships, he, and all his company were swallowed in the revengeful billows of the sea. XX. AN other wicked Dane Oulasbald by name, when he endeavoured Others, for injuries done to his Church. to spoil the Church of S. CUTHBERT, and to waste her lands, and possessions, being admonished by the Bishop to abstain from his temerarious attempt, lest he should incur the heavy revenge of the Saint: What (said he) dost thou think to terrify me with the vanie bugs of thy speeches, and with a death to be feared from a dead man? I vow and protest by all my Gods (he was a Heathen) that hereafter I will be a cause of greater mischief to thee, and all thine, when this CUTHBERT of thine in whom thou hast so great confidence, shall avail the nothing. He had scarce said thus much, when going over the threshold, suddenly he became immoveable, and falling down to the ground, vomited forth his wretched soul. William Conqueror sent one called Ranulphus to Durrham, to exact tribute out of that country (which hitherto had been always free.) To whom S. CUTHBERT appearing in a dream, with cruel threatenings and a disease which grievously tormented him, terrified him from the execution of his exigent. In whom one thing was wonderful, that as long as he remained within the Bishopric of Durrham, so long he felt the torments of his sickness; but he was no sooner out of those bounds, than he was freed. By these, & many other such like wonders, wrought by the merits of this B. Saint, many kings, Princes, & Peers of the land, were moved out of an immensity of love towards him, to adorn his Church with riches, and to enlarge it with many great possessions, for the greater honour of him, & comfort of the Benedictin monks, that sung the praises of almighty The kings that enriched Durrham. God therein. And amongst other kings, his and the Benedictins greatest benefactors, were Egfrid, Alured, Ethelstane, Guthred, Cannt; and William Conqueror, moved chief out of that which we have related to have happened to Ranulphus his officer. One thing more, much to be admired we cannot omit, of the hair of his head which no fire could consume, but like so many threads of gold, they shived in the burning flames, & being taken out, returned to their former shape. So that by experience we way apply to him the truth of our Saviour's promise in the Gospel: Not a hair of your head shall perish. Luc. 21. XXI. BUT let us proceed to the last proofs which witness the integrity of his unstained body. In the reign of Henry the first Ranulphus then governing the helm in the sea of Durrham, this sacred body was publicly exposed to the common view of all beholders. Which my author saw himself, as he witnesseth in these words: We will render thanks (saith he) to him that by a divine grace gave us power, although unworthy, to behold, and touch his uncorrupted Simeon Dunel li. 1. ●. 11. This was anno. 1104. An. 1537. body, in the four hundred, and eighteenth year after his sacred deposition Four hundred and twenty three years after, a new proof was given us of the same uncorrupted body. For when by the command of that unhappy King Henry the eight, the sacred chasses, and shrines of the Saints were broken up, and rob throughout England, and their holy relics cast by sacrilegious hands into ignoble places, the wooden chest of this sacred body, which was covered with white marble, was likewise burst open with the rest. And when the bloody executioner, to whom this work of mischief was committed, with a mighty blow broke up the chest, he pierced to the holy body of the Blessed Saint, and cut a gash in his leg, where presently there appeared a manifest sign of a wound in the raw flesh. Which being seen, and all the rest of his body found entire (excepting that the extremity of his nose, I know not by what chance, was wanting) the matter was brought to Cuthbert Tunstall then bishop of Durrham, whom they consulted what was best to be done with that body: Who commanded it should be buried under ground, in the self same place where his sacred shrine stood before. And not only his body, but the vestments he had on, were found to be whole, and entire, and free from any the left spot or sign of corruption. But on his finger was found a gold ring set with a saphir stone, which I (saith Nicholas Harpsfield my author) sometimes saw, and handled, embracing, and kissing it with great affection as a sacred monument, more precious than the greatest treasure. At this last elevation of his sacred body, were present among others, Doctor Whitehead, precedent of the monastery, with Doctor Spark, and Doctor Tod, and William Witham Keeper of the sacred shrine. And by this, it is manifest, that the sacred body of this glorious Saint had endured inviolate, and uncorrupted for the space of eight hundred and forty years. A thing, which we have not read of any other Saint in the Church of God who only knows, whether at this hour it remain in the same integrity or not. And here now perchance the virtuous reader may wonder, how it comes to pass that the almighty justice who is ever wonderful in his Saints, and who heretofore, as this history doth witness, was so jealous of this his glorious Saint in particular, that not a man could offer any injury either to his body, his Church, or any thing thereunto belonging, but strait he incurred the revenge of very sharp punishment, and yet now at the last, he permitted his sacred relics to be mangled and abused, his Church to be spoiled, the lands to be alienated, and all other violence and cruelty, which the wicked hearts of men could almost invent, to be exercised against all his Ecclesiastical persons & dignities without showing any outward signs of revenge for his defence! But all these things are scourges for the sins of our wretched Country; and our Lord it seems hateth sin in so high a degree, that he will rather take away the honour due to his Saints in this world, then let sin pass unpunished. O that S. Paul said truly? his judgements are incomprehensible, and his ways, unsearchable? Let us make our daily prayers unto his divine majesty, that through the merits of this B. Saint, he would be pleased at length, to sheathe the sword of his revenge, and shine upon our miserable Country with the pleasing looks of his mercy, that the Echoes of our English quires may again resound the notes of those delightful words so often repeated in the Psalms. Quoniam in aetornum misericordiaeius. Amen. The life of Saint HEREBERT Priest and Hermit. MAR. 20. Out of Venerable Bede in vita Cuth & alibi. SAINT HEREBERT a Priest of venerable conversation, and virtue leading a solitary life in an Island of Yorkshise within that great lake whence the river of Derwent taketh head. This holy man was in great league of friendship, and familiarity with blessed S. CUTHBERT whom he was wont every year to visit, to receive his His friendship with S. Cuthbert. instructions in the way of eternal life. It happened that coming once to him according to custom, to be more and more kindled by his ploughs' admonitions to the desire and love of heaven: Saint CUTHBERT; after some virtuous discourses: Remember Brother HEREBERT (said he) that now thou make known thy wants, and ask me whatsoever thou standest in need of: For after this time, we shall see one and other no more in this world; I am certain that the time of my departure is near at hand. At these words B. HEREBERT falling prostrate at his feet, pouring out many sighs and tears: I beseech thee (said he) by the holy name of our Lord, not to forsake thy most faithful friend and companion, but to beseech the divine goodness of almighty God, that as together we have served him, so together we may pass out of this world, to enjoy him: For thou knowest I have not lived, but under the government of thy pious words & institutions, and in whatsoever through ignorance or human frailty I offended, I always referred to thy discussion to be corrected. Saint CUTHBERT much moved here with, fell earnestly to his prayers, and having understood by a divine inspiration, that his prayer was heard: Rise brother (saith he) and do not weep, but rejoice; for the heavenly clemency hath granted our request. The truth of which promise, and prophecy was brought to light by the ensueing event: For departing at that time, they met no more, till in one and the same twentith day of March, their souls departing out of this world, were by the hands of Angels translated to a perpetual union in heaven. But Saint HEREBERT, by a particular privilege, and dispensation from God, passed through the surnace of a long & tedious sickness, that if in merit he were inferior to S. CUTHBERT the punishment and pain of his disease, borne with a virtuous patience, might supply that defect: whereby made equal in grace with his intercessor, as he deserved to departed at one and the same time with him, so he might be worthy to be received into one and the like throne of happiness. This holy man (as it may be through) was a Monk of S. benedict's order, aswell for that he was wholly instructed in all his spiritual life by Great S. CUTHBERT a Benedictin, who would not teach but as he had learned himself; as allsoe, because in those days, the true custom of proceeding to an eremitical and solitary conversation, was to begin first with no other life then a monastical, as saint BEDE doth witness: Out of whom we have taken his life, who both in his history of England, and in the life of S. CUTHBERT relateh the foresaid story to a word. Nicholas Jnvit. S. Cuth. cap 46. Harpsfield hath the same. The life of Saint EDILWALD Priest and Anachoritie of the holy order of S. BENEDICT. MAR. 23. SAINT EDILWALD was first a monk of S. benedict's order in the monastery of Rippon, where having received the dignity of priesthood he adorned the same with a pious conversation of life, well becoming his degree and calling. But afterwards being taken with the desire of a more solitary and retired life, he went to the hermitage of the Island of Farne, which saint CUTHBERT had first built and inhabited, and there became saint CUTHBERTS' immediate successor, as well in habitation, as holiness of life; of whose virtuous life that it may the better appear to the world of how great merit it was I will only rehearse one miracle out of Saint BEDE. Gudfrid a venerble Priest, and afterwards Abbott of the Benedictin monastery of Lindisfarne, desiring to have some conversation with saint EDILWALD went By his prayers he assuageth a tempett. over into the Island; whence, much refreshed and comforted with his godly discourse he returned with his companions homewards. But being at the Sea, their fair calm was suddenly changed into such a blustering storm, what with the force of the winds, and the rage of the waters struggling together, that indeed their incuitable ruin (as they thought) seemed to be the wager of the others contention. Till being come to the point of despairing to have any longer time of life in this world, behold B. EDILWALD hearing the tempestuous noise of this storm, & solicitous of their safety, came running in all haste out of his Cell to see what was befallen them; and finding in what imminent danger and despair they were, he fell presently to his prayers for their lives and safeguard: which done, the swelling seas were appeased, and the cruelty of that tempest gave way to their ship to pass quietly till they were all safe on the dry shore. And then the winds and seas, as if they had gathered new courage, began to raise the same storms again, which furiously dured all that day: to the end we might more plainly understand that the small intermission wherein they escaped, was granted from heaven for their sakes by the prayers of the holy man. And this story was related to me (saith saint BEDE who writes it) by one of those monks that was in the same ship and danger. Other miracles were wrought by the merits of this Saint: who when he had lived in great holiness for the space of twelve years in this solitary kind of life, he was called to the joys of heaven to receive the desired rewards of his merits, and labours. He was buried in saint PETER'S Church of Lindisfarne by saint CUTHBERT. Thus much out of saint Bede hist. A●. l. 5. c. 1. and Nicholas Harpsfied. hist. Eccl. saec. 7. c. 35. He flourished in the reign of Alfrid who succeeded to Egfrid in the kingdom of Northumberland. The life of S. ALFWOLD Bishop and Confessor of the holy order of S. BENEDICT. MAR. 25. Out of William Malmesbury. SAINT ALFWOLD from a Benedictin monk in the monastery of winchester, was raised to the Episcopal dignity of Sherburne. He placed a goodly picture of the most holy bishop and monk S. SWITHIN of Winchester in the Church of Sherburne. It is certain that he was a man of most reverend & godly life, & one (that amongst the most prodigal shows of exquisite banquets, which from the time of the Danes were used in England) followed the rules of ancient piety, & severity in his diet His spare diet. , using only a wooden dish without any luscious ordaintie meats, a little cup of beer, so drowned and mortified with water, that the danitiest could not find any taste of beer. My author in this affirmeth, that he heard a Priest of good credit, & then loaden with grey hairs, report with tears of joy, much good of this holy man. One thing was, that no man ever after his death presumed to sleep in his bed unpunished: For presently he was forced to leap out of it, being amazed with strange ugly visions, which not only terrified him from his rest, but allsoe sorely rebuked him for unworthily usurping the holy bishop's place. This was a straying spectacle unto many. Earl Godwin (having it is uncertain upon Godwin punished for injuring S. Alfwlod. what occasion, grievously exasperated this holy man) fell presently into such a tormenting sickness, that he lay languishing without any hope of life; so that he was compelled to send a messenger in post hast to the Bishop, humbly to desire pardon for his temereity; who out of his own pious lenity, gave him his benediction, and pardon, and there with all, he recovered perfect health. II. THIS HOLY Bishop and monk was wonderfully much addicted in his devotion to the excellent bishop and glory of the Benedictin ●rder, S. CUTHBERT, at whose only name, he would burst into devout tears: And always he had this Anthem of him in his mouth. The Holy Bishop Cuthbert a man perfect in all things, appeared amongst the throngs of the world, a monk worthily to be reverenced His great devotion to S. Cuthbert. of all men. And as his daily love to this Saint took deeper root in his heart, to give a greater demonstration thereof, he went in pilgrimage to Durcham; where in his sacred tomb, he deposed a worthy gift, as a holy testimony of his devout love; At length; after some years in his bishopric, coming to the last point of this mortal life, as long as his voice would serve him, he sung his accustomed Anthem of S. CUTHBERT, but his speech failing, with his hand he made a sign to the monks to go on: and so he happily breathed forth the testimony of his love to that Saint, together with his blessed soul, which at the same instant, took her flight to receive His happy departure. her prepared seat and reward, amongst the quires of Benedictin Monks in heaven. Thus much out of Malmesburie depont. lib. 2. Harpsfield saec. 11. cap. 9 and others. He flourished about the years 1050. THE END OF MARCH The life of Saint RICHARD Bishop of Chicester, and Confessor. APR. 3. Written by Radulphus Cicestrius about the year 1270 SAINT RICHARD of blessed, and never dying memory, was an Englishman borne of honest parents in Worcester-shire, at a Village which from the salt-pitts thereabouts was called the Wiche; S Richard's parents, &c country. His father's name was Richard too, and his mother's Alice. It was not without some presage of his future excellency that he was borne in a town of salt, for indeed he seasoned the whole country with the salt of his wisdom, learning, and holy life. From his tenderest years (contrary to the custom of that age) he so fare abandoned dancing, His happy wit. plays, and other such vanities, that his other fellows and equals in years, could by no allurements nor persuasions draw him thereunto: on the other side, within a short time, he fare excelled all his rivals both in learning, integrity of life, & good manners. His elder brother during the time of his nonage, was kept in ward, and by that means he came to his lands in great poverty and want. Whose case RICHARD much pitied, and having not any thing wherewith to comfort and secure him in that necessity, he He serves his brother gave himself wholly into his service, in which he spent no small, time in great poverty, and abjection, and with no less patience, humility, and modesty, toiling, and sweeting now at the plough, now at the cart, and other such hard employments and labours of husbandry. Whereby he won to himself so great good will and affection from his brother, that by a sealed writing he assured all his lands upon him. Then his friends and kinsfolks began to treat of a marriage to be solemnised between him, and a young gentlewoman of that Country. Which when his brother perceived, he began to repent that he had resigned over his means, because he knew that with that gentlewoman he should come in possession of a very large, and ample dowry. RICHARD having intelligence hereof: He forsaketh all for love of leaning. You have no reason dear brother (said he) to be afflicted at this, for the same liberality, and courtesy which you have showed towards me, will I return to you again. Therefore behold I not only surrender up your writings and bonds, but allsoe all the interest I have in this my future wife, if so it may stand with the good will and liking of her friends; and for mine own part, I never once kissed her lips. Henceforth, having abandoned all he had, his lands, his spouse, & his friends, he betook himself to his studies, first at Oxford, then at Paris in France, where he learned his Logic. And he was so violently carried away with Turrian extreme love & desire to apparel his mind with learning, that he scarce ever thought either offoode, or apparel for his body. For, as himself afterwards was wont to say, when he was one of the three scholars, that lived in one chamber, they had but one cap or hat betwixt them, & each of them but one gown. So that (like some of our courtiers now a days) when one of them went forth to lesson with the hat, the other two remained barcheaded at home: And so the same cap served them all by turns to go hear their lectures. Their ordinary food was bread, and a little herbe-pottage, or some such poor dish. For their poverty would not allow them to eat either flesh or fish, unless it were upon sundays, and high days, and when their friends, and comrades did invite them. And yet the holy man was wont to say, that in all his life times, he never enuoyed merrier, and sweeter days than those. II. IN THE mean time, our hopeful young man prositted so excellently Hefs made master of art. in his studies, that by the public, applause, and acclamations of all men, he was judged worthy to be honoured with the title of master. But refusing to take any degrees at Paris, he returned again to his Country, and to the University of Oxford, where within a short time, he was promoted to be Master of the liberal arts: He studies Canon law when liberally he imparted that learning to others, which before with much labour he had purchased to himself. And going afterwards into Italic, for seven years' space, he gave his mind to study the Canon law in the university of Bolognia, & that with so great increase of learning, that his master falling sick, made choice of him amongst all his other scholars, to supply his place and continue the lecture begun. Which for more than half a year he performed, with so great modesty, & readiness of wit and judgement, that he purchased to himself great affection & praise throughout all the university; & got so high a place of favour and good will with his master, that he desired, and aspired to nothing more willingly then to give him his only daughter in marriage. But RICH. (who moved by a divine inspiration, was fare otherwise bend) gave him very humble thanks for his noble love, courteously pretending some reasons for his excuse, adding withal, that for the present he had a long journey to make; promising that at his return (if so it pleased God) his duty should be yielding to the level of his desires. And taking leave of his master, & his daughter in this sort, he returned into England, to the university of Oxford, where he led a very rigid, & austere life, in He is made Chancellor of oxford. continual labours, watching, & other bodily afflictions. When his fame, & renown increased to such a height in the ears of the world, that by the consent of all, he was made chancellor of the University. III. ABOUT the same time, S. EDMOND sat at the helm in the government of the metropolitan sea of Canturbury, who long before had had certain intelligence of his great prudence, and integrity; and Robert surnamed gross teste, a man famous for holiness was then bishop of Lincoln, who both being wholly ignorant of one & others meaning herein, And to the Archbishop of Cauturbury. at one & the same time, earnestly laboured each of them to make RICHARD his chancellor. At length, the Archbishop of Canturbury, because he had first signified his will and desire to the holy man, obtained to have him in his service who with great reverence and duty obeyed him in all things. Then B. EDMOND delivered unto him the great seal of his office and committed to his charge the managing of the gravest, and principallest affairs of his whole Diocese. Therefore RICHARD began according to his wont diligence to climb daily higher, and higher in the exercise of good endeavours, faithfully and exactly to perform his office without any pride or state, to keep free his hands from bribes, knowing, that according to scripture, gifts do blind the eyes of wisemen, and the words of the just. One might behold in him, an unspeakable equity, a courteous mildness, and modest simplicity, all seated & grounded in an excellent Dent. 16. v. 19 prudence, and humility: his gesture and actions well composed and tempered. Moreover, he stuck constant to his holy bishop in all his adversities, and afflictions, as well at home as in his banishment, being not ignorant that those who have been companions in sufferance, shall all soc be companious in time of consolations. But S. EDMOND of Canturbury Cor. 1. He studies divinity. being dead, RICHARD, freed from Court and courtly cares and affairs, went to Orleans in France, where in a religious house of Dominicans, he gave himself to the study of Divinity, not as most do that only hear with their ears, and do not apply their mind, to understand; but bent an inward hearing to whatsoever he heard, to put in practice more effectually what he heard. There he was He is made Pricst. promoted to the sacred dignity of Priesthood, to sacrifice the beloved son of God to his almighty Father. And from that time, he began to adorn that heavenly function with a more humble plainness, and neat humbleness in his habit. But after he had been long conversant in the studies of sacred scripture, he returned into England, to feed the small flock committed to his charge; for he had but one parish wherein he would bestow his necessary care in doing the office of a good Pastor IU. BONIFACE, a very venerable man, had already succeeded blessed EDMOND in the sea of Canturbury who desired allsoe to enjoy the conversation, and familiarity of RICHARD, that was so gracious in the world. Unto whom, (making great resistance) he He is chosen bishop of Chicester. recommended his ancient office of chancellor. In the mean time, Radulph Nevil bishop of Chicester being dead; the Canons, having first, as the custom was, obtained leave of the King then Henry the third, made choice of one Robert Passeleff (who from a minion at Court was become a Canon of that Church) to be their bishop. But that election (according to the decrees of the Canons, by the authority of Boniface of Canturbury, and other bishops his suffragans, among whom was Robert the venerable bishop of Lincoln) was utterly disannulled, and declared to be of no force, because the person elected was in learning life, and manners judged to be little correspondent to so high a dignity: and by the common consent and sentence of all, RICHARD was chosen in his place. Which proceedig very much exasperated the King, to see the former election The King invadeth the goods of Chicester. cut off, and RICHARD substituted in the place, whom he esteemed his utter enemy, in that he stuck so close to S. EDMOND, in all the controversy between him, and the King. Therefore in a fury he commanded all the goods of Chicester Church to be confiscated. When S. RICHARD, according to the counsel of the others Bishops, got the letters of the Archbishop of Canturbury, and went to the King, humbly entreating his Majesty, to suffer a restitution to be made of all that belonged to the Church of Chicester. But all his humility could nothing remove the headstrong King from his stubborn resolution: so that, when the holy man had much tired and wearied out himself in vain, and endured many contumelious, and scornful injuries, he was constrained at length to have recourse to Richard appealeth to Rome. the last refuge (under God) on earth, the Sea apostolic. When the King's Ambassadors had prevented him with the Pope of Rome, for he found them there all ready, ready provided against him. Innocent the fourth, then governed the Roman sea, who very courteously entertained RICHARD, and having heard the reasons of both parties, he confirmed his election by Apostolical authority, and moreover, by the imposition of his sacred hands, consecrated him Bishop, (with an other of that Country) in great solemnity. V BUT a wonderful thing happened at his consecration. For coming to give them sacred unction, for the first the Pope covid hardly squeeze one drop of oil out of the box; but when RICHARD came to be anneild, there appeared as it were a new representation of Elias his oil and miracle, for the sacred liquor ran in such abundance out of the viol, that the attendants had enough to do to stop it with linen , from flowing over into his neck, and shoulders. The Pope and Cardinals and all the assistants A strange miracle. were much amazed, and not without cause: when one of the Cardinals said: Certainly this man abounds with a fullness of divine grace. Then S. RICHARD returning into his Country with the Pope's letters, by the way visited the Sepulchre of S. EDMOND, already flourishing with miracles, at Pontoise in France: and coming into England he found all the goods and means belonging to his Church of Chicester, utterly dissipated, and spent by the King's ofsiceers. And for an increase of misery, the King had commanded by public edict, that no man should lend him a penny, to supply His afflictious in the Bishoptick. his wants. But when he exibited the Pope's letters, and commands before the King and his nobles, he not only failed to get a gracious favour, but contrary wise, rather purchased to himself much more hatred, and indignation. Wherefore, departing from before that incensed Majesty, he went in poor, and bare array, to his Diocese, where he lived as a private guest at an other man's house, and table. In the mean time, he omitted not oftentimes to take a circuit about his diocese, visitting the flock committed to his charge, and ministering the sacraments as occasion required. And lest he should be accused as a slothful, and sluggish forsaker, and traitor of his own right, sometimes he would make a journey to the King, and humbly demand the restitution of the goods, wrongfully taken away, albeit he always suffered a scornful repulse, and returned laden with injuries, and reproaches. It happened once that the Dean and Canons of Chicester, were much troubled and afflicted in mind, with the kings sharp and biting answers but the holy man, putting on a cheerful, countenance, would comfort them with calling that saying of the scripture to their remembrance. The Apostles went rejoicing from the face of the Council, because they were esteemed worthy Act. 5. to suffer contumelic for the name of CHRIST-IESUS. And I confirm you in the same, that these crosses, and afflictions will one day The Church of Chicestet restored. be changed into mirth, and joy. But within a while he made the Pope acquainted with the kings stubborn answer and proceeding: who wonderfully much pitying the holy man's case, sent a thundering command unto two bishops of England, to admonish the King to make restitution to the Church of Chicester within such a time, or that they should publish and denounce the heavy sentences contained in his letters, over the whole Kingdom. By which means, after two year's affliction patiently endured, the Church with her domains, and torn buildings, ready to tumble into ruin, were with difficulty restored again to their true owner. VI AND the holy man being now seated in his Episcopal chair A summary of his virtues. became in prayer more fervent than ever, more bountiful, and liberal in giving of alms, and more severe in chastising his own body. Hence forth, he was more attentive and careful towards the poor, more negligent in decking, and trimming his own body, and more modest in his speech and behaviour. At his table, he all ways used a spiritual lecture, wherewith he fed his soul, as well as his body with food; and sometimes, the reader intermitting a while from his lesson, they discoursed either of those things that were read, or some other pious and wholesome matter. His custom was as he traveled over his diocese, to make diligent inquiry after all poor and sick persons, to whom he did not only give large alms, but allsoe out a of gracious and innate courtesy he would visit them himself in person, and very carefully comfort, and encourage them, with the heavenly food of his pious admonitions. And when his own brother, unto whom he had committed the managing of his temporal affairs, complained that all his yearly rents, and revenues were not sufficient to give alms so largely, and to such a multitude of poor; Dear brother (replied the holy Bishop) dost thou think it fit and reasonable that we eat and drink out of golden and silver vessels, and that CHRIST be tormented with hunger, in his poor? As my father did before me, so can I eat out of an ordinary platter, and drink in a plain goddart. Therefore, let the gold and silver plate be sold; yea, and the horse I ride one of so great value let him go too, and let CHRIST'S poor be succoured with the money. Nether was he wont to maintain the poor His wonderful liberality to the poor. only with meat and drink, but alsoe to give clothing to the naked, and bury the dead with his own hands. Sometimes he would give an alms before it was asked: and being demanded why he did so: It is written, (answered he) O Lord thou hast prevented him in the blessings of this sweetness: and indeed, that which is obtained by ask Psal 20. is bought but at a dear rate. He appointed an hospital for poor aged priests that were blind, or otherwise impotent, and feeble of body: and that they should not purchase infamy to their holy function, by public begging abroad, he provided them with sufficient victuals and clothing, within the same house. VII. THIS his sanctity, did not want the testimony of many worthy The wonderful multiplication of aloof. miracles, among which one and not the lest was, that one loaf was so increased by his benediction, that beyond the hope and expectation of those that were present, three thousand poor people received their accustomed quantity and portions, and so many pieces remained, as according to the proportion of that distribution, were sufficient to satisfy one hundred more. Nether was it once or twice only, that by virtue of his holy benediction, such an abundant and miraculous increase of things was caused, but many and sundry times, the like happened through his divine power and bounty, that openeth his hands, and filleth every creature with his blessing. Next to his skin, for the greater chastising of his Psal. 144. body he used sometimes a hair shirt, sometimes a coat of mail. His apparel and shoes, not so neat that they inferred an affectation, nor yet more abject than was fitting, but in a mean, well becoming his degree, wherein he avoided all The m●annes of his appared. signs of any curious novelties. Nether would he endure to have his horse trappings and furniture glittering with gold and silver, neither would he carry about with him a superfluous change of apparel, not only for the shunning of pomp, but fearing lest the poor should cry out after him with that sentence of S. BERNARD: What doth gold in the bishop's bridle whilst we poor wretches suffer cold and hunger. VIII. HAVING on a time excommunicated one john Allen for an injury executed against the Church of Chicester, and the same man coming often times to his court, he would entertain him very familiarly, and make him stay dinner; saying, that as His charity towards his adversary. long as he was with in his hall he would not have him tied with the censure of excommunication; but when he was gone, unless he would and make amends to the Church, he absolutely held him for an excommunicate person. He was wont allsoe to say, that if there were strife and contention of law betwixt parties, each one striving to recover and defend his own right, the signs of charity used among Christians ought not therefore to be omitted or denied. For be it (said he) that I must, recover my own by law, I ought not therefore to withdraw from my adversary, that which it Gods right and my duty, Love and Charity. And after this manner indeed he carried himself towards the Abbott of Fecam, and Richard Earl of Cornwall, and the Countess of Kent, with whom he had suits and controversies touching his Church, always repaying the contumelies and reproaches of these great persons, with honour, and their enmities, with good will. His severity against the de●iourer of a sacred Virgin. IX. ONE of the Clergy that had enticed a Nun out of her monastery, and deflowered her, was by the authority of this holy Bishop most ignominiously deprived of his ecclesiastical benefice, and dignity which he enjoyed within the Diocese. And herein he was so rigorous, that when the King himself, the Archbishop of Canturbury, and many other Bishops, Peers, and Nobles of the realm, made great suit and entreaty for his pardon, the man of God shown himself wholly inexorable in the execution of divine justice; and striking his breast, he said: No no while the breath remains in this body of mine, such a ribald villain, that durst presume to violate a Virgin consecrated to God, retaining her with him yet as a whore, shall never by my consent have the government of souls, within my diocese. And because he hath appealed to my Lord of Canturbury, for my part, let him do according as he will answer before the most just and dreadful tribunal of CHRIST. This courageous constancy of the blessed man, put them quite off, from ever more attempting to move him in that matter. In like manner he proceeded against three Vicars who were convicted for public keeping of concubines. For when they refused to dismiss those lewd mates, he gave sentence against them, whereby they were quite discarded from their benefices. He compelled others that had violently drawn a thief out of the Church to the gallows, to dig up his stinking dead carcase after fifteen days lying in the ground, and carry him on their own shoulders into the Church, from whence they had taken him at the first. X. NEWS being brought him of a great damage he had received His contempt of worldly goods. by fire, which had consumed no small quantity of his buildings and household stuff; when his whole family was filled with weeping, wailing, and lamenting, he was nothing moved at all, but with a smooth and pleasant countenance, gave thanks to almighty God, and bade them be of good courage saying: Do not grieve nor afflict yourselves, there is yet left sufficient & abundantly enough, to maintain us in our necessities. And truly I think this loss hath befallen us, in that we have not used such care and liberality to the poor as we ought. Hence forth therefore I command, that our alms be more large, and frequent. O treasure of a generous mind, Which in wanting knew not how to want, and in losing, was ignorant how to lose, but out of the very loss of his own goods, knew how to heap up a new increase of virtues unto himself. He was wont severely to command all the stewards, and other officers of his diocese, calling the divine judgement to witness He forbids v●●●st exactions. and on pain of the utter ruin of their souls, that they should not exact any thing contrary to justice, nor molest his Diocesans with the uttermost extremity of any debt or duty. And he himself, would oftentimes, out of his mildness and clemency, remit a debt otherwise due, to those that asked him. Furthermore, he would never by any means admit his kinsfolks, and allies (albeit well deserving) to ecclesiastical Benefices, knowing that the Lord and Prince of Pastors, CHRIST JESUS, did not deliver the universall government of his Church unto his cousin by blood S. JOHN the Evangelist, but to saint PETER, who was nothing allied unto him at all. Matt. 16. XI ALLSOE, he used so great moderation, and courtesy towards his Clergy, that rising many times very early to perform the office of Matins, and finding his Clergimen yet lying under the heavy wings of sleep, he would in the mean time betake himself to his private devotious, permitting them to take their sweet rest, and repeating with himself those words of our Lord, and saviour; Dormite iam, & requiescite: sleep ye now, and rest. Otherwise indeed he was wonderfully delighted to see the divine office religiously & devoutly performed; Math. 26. which may sufficiently be proved, with this one example; that when he either visited religious men, or entertained them with a holy salutation when they came to him, he was wont to say: It is good to kiss those lips, which yield a sweet perfume of their holy prayers offered unto almighty God: which saying, as himself did often witness, he learned of his old master saint EDMOND, who was wont to use the same. XII MOREOVER, with how great care and diligence this blessed man preached the word of God in other dioceses, with what piety and clemency he cherished repentant souls, heard them confess their sins, instructed their ignorance, absolved them, imparted his good counsel unto them, withheld and encouraged the desperate from falling into desperation, exhorted the stronger sort to perseverance, strengthened the unconstancy of weaklings, and in fine, how in all things he conformed himself to all sorts and conditions, what pen is able worthily to express? For the raising of an expedition of aid and rescue for the holy land, he undertook the preaching of the holy cross, recommended unto him from the Bishop of Rome: and beginning at his own Church of Chicester he took his progress along by the sea side, till he came to Canturburie. But ten days before he arrived at the famous haven town of Dover, he fell into a sickness, which he suffered not to hinder his pious enterprise, for he ceased not to labour on in the vineyard of our Lord, all ways preaching, confirming children, hearing confessions, giving holy orders, till he exhausted almost all the strength of his body. Coming at length to Dover, he was received as a guest into a certain hospital called Gods-house, and at the entreaty of the master of the same Hospital, he consecrated a Church with a Churchyard for the burial of the poor, in honour of his old lord saint EDMOND, where he declared publicly in his sermon the same day, that from the first time he was made bishop, he had always a longing desire, to consecrate before he died at the one Church, to the honour of that holy saint his ancient Lord and master: giving there hearty thankes to almighty God, who had not frustrated his desire therein: Adding withal that now he knew that the time of his departure was at hand, and therefore he earnestly recommended himself to the suffrages of their good sacrifices, and prayers. XIII. THE day following being sunday, albeit he was almost quite as a man spent and overthrown with sickness & labours, notwithstanding, Heapplieth himself to diui●● exercises beyond his forces. at his accustomed hour of rising, he made no delay, but got into Church, where with great devotion he began to sing his office: And being present at the holy sacrifice of Mass, his sickness still increased so strongly upon him, that not able any longer to bear up his feeble limbs, he fell flat on the ground. Then he was carried back into the Hospital, by some of his servants, and laid on a bed: Where to one William his Chaplain, with whom he was ever very familiar, he declared that he should not escape that disease, commanding him to prepare things necessary for his funeral, but privately, lest family perceaving, might be troubled: and to Simon Terringes he foretold the day of his death. Then he desired them to bring a Crucifix: which most devoutly he embraced, piously kissing the place of the wounds, as if then he had beheld our Lord and Saviour dying: and breaking forth into these words: I give thee infinite thanks O my Lord JESUS CHRIST, for all thy benefits bestowed upon me, for the pains and reproaches which for my sake thou hast suffered, which were such and so great that thou mightest worthily say that of thy Prophet: There is no grief, like my grief. Thou knowest, O lord, that if it be thy blessed will, I am most ready to endure all Thren. 1. reproaches, and torments, and death itself for thy sake, and as thou knowest I speak the truth, so I beseeth thee to have mercy upon me, for into thy hands I commend my soul. And he repeated often times that of the Psalmist. Into thy hands O Lord I commend my spirit. Turning himself allsoe to the B. Virgin MARIE Psal. 10, Mother of God, he said: Maria matter gratiae, matter misericordiae, tu nos ab host protegs, & hora mortis suscipe: commanding his Chaplains continually to sound those words in his cares. And so between the sighs of his pious devotion, and the words of sacred prayer, in presence of many religious, priests, and Clergimen, and other faithful Christians, saint RICHARD yielded up his His blessed death soul into the hands of his Creator, to live in the most happy society of the heavenly citizens for ever, about the six and fiftith year of his age, the 9 year of his bishopric, the third day of April, about midnight: At what time, the heavenly spouse is said to Matth. 25. come to the eternal wedding. His soul was no sooner departed but his sacred body, which in his life time had been tired with The beauty of his dead body. much watching, worn out with lying on the ground, consumed with fasting, torn, and afflicted with stripes, and other voluntary punishments beyond humane sufferance, appeared most clear, and beautiful, in so much, that it seemed to bear a notable sign or token of the future resurrectior: and next his skin was found a sharp hayre-shirt and many other iron girdles. He was buried in the Church which he had newly consecrated, a huge concourse of people coming from all parts of England to the celebration of his venerable exequys: every one thinking himself happy, that could but get to touch either the bier he was carried on, or the lowest hem of his sacred garments. Rings, and bracelets, that had but touched his body, they held for very holy things and kept as relics. XIV. AFTERWARDS, his sacred body was translated to Chicester according to his desire, and buried in a mean place before S. edmond's Altar, which himself had erected in the north side of the Church; Where, as in his life time, God always wonderful in his Saints, had wrought by him many miracles, curing the blind, lame, Many miracles. and diseased, so after his death, he shown by the merits of this holy man, no less, but rather more wonderful signs of holiness: when besides many other benefits, and strange cures, he restored three men from death to life: and one child borne dead, but revived by his merits, was presented at the age of four years, before the Inquisitours that were apppointed to take the information of saint RICHARDS life and miracles. Nay his apparel, being worn or but touched, cured many diseases; and the sick persons that lay in his bed, presently recovered their health. All which miracles, and many more for brevity's sake here omitted, were written in those days, as manifest and certain truths, and the book was reserved in the Benedictin Abbey of saint Alban Which moved Pope Boniface the fourth to enrol him into the number of canonised Saints, about 20. years after his death, in the reign of Edward the first, and his feast was celebrated in the Breviarie of Sarum, with an office of nine lessons, this third day of April. This history of his life is gathered out of that which is written at large by Radulph Bocking his confessor, about the year 1240. Matthew Paris an. 1259. Matthew Westminister an. 1262. Nicholas Harpsfield. saec. 13. cap. 17. Camden and other grave authors make very worthy mention of his virtues. And Baronius saith that urban the fourth's letters for his canonisation are extant in the Vatican library at Rome. The life of Saint ELSTAN Bishop of Wilton, and Confessor of the holy order of S. BENEDICT. APR. 6. Out of William Malmesbury de gest. Pont. Anglo. ELSTAN first a monk of the holy order of S. BENEDICT in the monastery of Abington, under the government of the famous S. ETHELWOLD afterwards bishop of Winchester, was a man of wonderful simplicity, and obedience. A rare proof thereof, is seen in this accident. For being commanded by his foresaid Abbot to see that the workmen, and artificers of the monastery, were daily, and duly provided with necessary victuals, he undertook that labour with great devotion, and played the cook himself, in the preparing of their accustomed diet; and served them very diligently, and afterwards washed the dishes, and other vessels with his own hands, whilst the Abbot all ways thought he had performed this duty of obedience, by the help of a servant. Till one day, going about the offices of the monastery, (as his custom was) he chanced unawares to to find ELSTAN standing by the cauldron that boiled on the fire, and all the vessels very neat and clean, and the room newly swept. The Abbot much delighted hereat; Brother ELSTAN (said he) this Not the virtue of Prompt obedience. obedience thou hast stolen from me. But if thou art such a champion, as thou seemest to be, put thy bare hand presently into the boiling cauldron, and fetch me a piece of meat out of the bottom. The command was no sooner out of his mouth, but FLSTANS' hand was in the boiling water, whose unresistable heat, yielded to the courage of his true faith, and obedience, and did him no hurt at all; to the great admiration, and comfort of the holy Abbot. ELSTAN afterwards was made Abbot of Abington, and lastly Bishop of Wilton, in both which charges, he discharged the part of a holy Prelate, and ended his days very happily, to receive the reward of his obedience in heaven. He flourished about the year of our Lord 980. Thus much of him we have gathered out of William Malmesbury de Pont. l. 3. Nicholas Harpsfield saec. 10 cap. 9, and Wolstan in the life of S. Ethelwold the first day of August. The life of Saint GISLA, and Saint RICTRUDE, Virgins of the sacred order of Saint BENEDICT. APR. 9 Out of diverse Authors. GISLA and RICTRUDE borne in Kent of noble parents, but much more ennobled with virtue, and good learning, from their very youth gave themselves to the study of the elegancy of the latin tongue, and other sciences, under that excellent master S. ALCVINE a Benedictin Monk. After whose departure out of England, they lived in a monastery at Canturbury under the holy rule of S. BENEDICT, labouring, and profiting daily in the continual exercises of virtue and learning, diligently imitating S. MARIE Magdalen● in the sweetness of a contemplative, and MARTHA in the labours of Their skill in learning an active life. Being careful first to profit themselves in mortifications, and meditations, and then to show external works of charity to their neighbours, and peculiarly to comfort the afflicted. Whence it was, that having attained to a sufficiency of learning (a rare thing in their sex) they writ many spiritual and consolatory works, which envious time hath suffered to perish; but some epistles of theirs, and specially one to S. ALCVINE, and his answer thereunto, are extant amongst his works. The inscription of his to them is thus: To the most noble in holiness of Christian religion, the most devoted to the study of wisdom, the two Virgins consecrated to God, Gisla his sister, and RICTRUDE his daughter, the humble Brother, and Father, ALCVINE wisheth the health of perpetual Blessedness. At length, these holy Virgins, after the long exercise of virtue, and good works, est this world toreceive the crown of their virginity in heaven, amongst that glorious choir of other holy Benedictine Nuns. They flourished about the year 770. in the reign of Alrick King of Kent. Thus much we have taken out of Nicholas Harpsfield soec. 8. c. 6. Arnould Wion, john Pitts de scrip. Aug. an. 770. and others. decorative device depiction of St. Guthlac S. GUTHLACUS MONACHUS ET EREMITA ORD. S. Benedicti. April. 11. 〈◊〉. f. The life of S. GUTHLAKE Priest, and Anacherite of the holy order of S. Benedict. APR. 11. Written by Felix a Benedictin monk of Croyland. THE WORTHY servant of JESUS-CHRIST Saint GUTHLAKE borne of noble parents Guthlakes Parents. P●nwald and Tecta descended lineally from the royal stem of the Mercian Kings: but he ennobled his princely progeniture with the nobility and spendour of religion, and virtues. Which his future excellency, and incomparable virtue a straying and admirable presage seemed to make known, and A strange apparition at his abyrth. manifest at his very birth. For the same hour that his mother lay in childbed of this holy offspring a fair yellow hand, as it were of a man, appeared by the cross which stood● opposite to her house, casting forth wonderful beams of brightness. And when the people of the country flocked together in great troops to behold that miraculous apparition, the same hand made the sign of the Cross on the house door of the labouring woman, & presently vanished. A happy sign, & precursour of his birth, foreshowing that in his life time he should always carry in his body the peanance of Christ's holy cross. But the multitude of people much astonished, & amazed at this unaccustomed spectacle, began (as the manner is) with diverse, and doubtful opinios to waver in their sundry expositions of that divine miracle, the greatest part affirming that surely it betokened some great & heavenly mystery: when the mid wive came forth with news that the child, for whose sake that wonder appeared, was borne. In baptism he was named GUTHLAKE, and during the time of his childhood, he appeared to bear in a clear & loving countenance so grateful and acceptable a grace, that his sole looks were of force sufficient to purchase love in the minds & hearts of all men. II. AT THE age of twenty four years, he began very hotly to follow, and practise the noble acts of military discipline, to defend himself and his whole race against the adversaries, which took head against them: and being set forth in warlike ornaments and having mustered together some troops of soldiers, he began cruelly to He giveth himself to the wars in his youth. invade his enemies, to besiege to w●es, to overthrew castles, in soemuch that out of his worthy deeds of arms, he purchased to himself many titles, trophies, and monuments of fame throughout the country. But in the midst and heat of all this cruelty, he was not so fare corrupted with a desire of military glory, but even in that bloody kind of life, he gave some fignes of true piety; for oftentimes he would restore back the third part of his spoils to those he had vanquished, thereby overcoming his enemies the second time with courtesy, as before he had done with the sword. At length calling to mind (by a divine inspiration) the lamentable ends of many great kings and princes of his ancestors, and considering that the secular pomp of the world is but as a puff of smoke, and a vapour quickly vanishing: and remembering the shortness of man's days, the uneertaintie of his death, the terror of his departure out of this life, the severity of God's tribunal, and the eternity of the pains in the life to come, he resolved to give over that course of life: and calling his fellow soldiers together he bade them adieu in these words: Hitherunto (my dear friends,) I have waged war in the regiment of the world's vanities, from hence forth I am determined to bear arms only under the ensigns of JESUS-CHRIST, our true and dearest captain. Choose yourselves an other leader, whose colours ye may follow, for I will follow the banner of our Lords holy Cross, sanctified in his pretions' blood. And no reasons nor prayers being able to turn him from this pious resolution, he cast of his martial arms, and went to the famous monastery of Benedictin monks at Ripendown, in the Kingdom of Mercia, where having taken the habit He becometh a Benedictine monk. of a monk under the holy rule of S. BENEDICT, he entered into a very strict and severe manner of life, depriving himself not only of the superfluous but almost of the necessary use of meat, drink, and sleep. The Psalms, hymns, and other knowledge of holy scripture he learned with a wonderful facility within the space of two years. He was of a pleasant countenance, humble in his behaviour, and gate, religious and full of the fear of God in his works, constant in faith, His manner of life in the monastery. perseverant in hope, abounding in charity, providet in his counsel, and very circomspect, & mild in his words. And living amongst his brethren, he imitated the diligent & laborious be, which avoiding all infectious weeds, sucks whatsoever is good and profitable out of all the sweet flowers round about and brings it to her hive. For as he highly detested all manner of vice, so he strove and endeavoured with a great contention of mind, to express in himself, not only one, but all the good manners and virtues of those with whom he lived. Therefore, whatsoever was excellent, or notable in each of them, he heaped it all to himself; the learning of one, the continency of an other, this man's patience, the others submission, & humility, the silence of some, the strict diet of others, and their night and day watchings; and in a word, he ranked into himself alone a goodly train or lift of all others virtues, and pious actions. III. Now when he had made good trial of, himself for the space of two years, and shown a worthy example of virtue and holiness in that excellent school of religion, he began to aspire His desire of a solitary life, to a higher manner of perfection, being taken with a wonderful desire of an eremitical and solitary life. Therefore, having communicated his purpose with his Abbott and brethren, with their good leave, and well-wishes, he was dismissed to his own choice; and he chose himself an habitation in the Island of Crowland in Lincoluethire, a place at that time most remote from all humane company, and which (as well for many fens, marshes and rude groves thereof, as allsoe through fear and horror of devils, and goblins that molested it) was never before inhabited by any. Into this desert, our famous champion being wafted over in a little boat with two other youths in his company on the very feast of saint BARTHOLOMEW the Apostle (in whose merits he had a He entereth the horrid 〈◊〉 of Crowland particular confidence) began, to lead a solitary and strict life. Having built a little cottage, he used for his clothing the raw, and rude skins of beasts: his diet was a small quantity of barley bread, and water, which he did not taste till after sunnsett. But the common enemy of mankind, envying so great virtue, and goodness, assaulted him with such a vehement spirit of temptation, that he brought him even to the very brink of falling into the bottomless gulf of despair, for being much overthrown in mind, and troubled more than can be expressed, he began to think of flying away and forsaking the desert: when the almighty helper, and comforter of his servants in affliction, sent him his divine assistance, by the means of the holy Apostle saint BARTHOLOMEW, who appearing In temptation 〈◊〉. comforted by S. Bartholomew. visibly unto him, revived his weak spirits with such like words: Be of good comfort, my son, and resume thy strength and courage: thou hast entered a mighty battle; it doth not become a professor of so great and worthy a purpose, to be overthrown with a little blast of tentation. Therefore go on courageously, for albeit our Lord permit the to be tempted, notwithstanding he will make thy temptations redound to thy greater good. Thou art cruelly set upon to be overthrown, but I have made intercession for thee, that they faith do no fail; thou art assisted from above, our Lord hath put to his helping hand. It is his will and pleasure that those whom he loveth be tempted & tried; in all which thou must behave thyself as his servant with patience: and if thou abound with tribulation suffered for CHRIST, thou shalt receive a superabundance of consolation through CHRIST. Fear not therefore thy own weakness, for the spirit of God it is that helpeth and strengtheneth thee. Put they whole confidence then in him, for he is the only health of his servants, he will be to thee as a tower of fortitude against they enemies. At these words the holy Apostle vanished out of his sight, and he remained much comforted, and strengthened in our Lord, and from that day he was never more tempted to despair: although the wicked spirits never ceased to molest him other ways. iv FOR at an other time, two infernal spirits tranformed like The dec●●●●fall counsel of the devil. angels of light, began with very earnest persuasions to counsel him to fast all the week long without any food at all, promising that by that means, he should attain to the height of perfection. For disallowing of his biduall, and triduall fasts, they proposed unto him Th● effects of 〈◊〉 derat ●●sting. the fast of Moses, and Elias, and the abstinence of other ancient fathers, that lived in Scety, for an example. But the scope of their devilish pupose was this, that abstaining wholly from all meat, by the continuance of his fasting, he might be the cause of his own overthrow. For fasting, when it exceeds the bounds and rules of a moderate discretion, causeth the body to languish, the spirits to faint; the desire to devotion waxeth dull, the effects of good works are taken away, and the intellectual eye of contemplation is dimmed. Therefore B. GUTHLAKE, perceaving the falsehood and guile of this devilish counsel, calling upon the name of CHRIST, cried out with the royal psalmist. Let God arise, and his enemies be dissipated, and let 〈◊〉 Psalm 〈◊〉 that hate him, flie from before his face; At which words those hellish monsters filling the air with mournful houling, and lamentations, departed to their house of darkness: And GUTHLAKE ever after despised all the assaults of the devil, and easily suppressed all his wicked suggestions. V BUT by how much the more invincible his holy purpose grew He is cruelly 〈…〉 ested by the devils. daily in strength & constancy, by so much those enviers of all virtue and goodness incessantly laboured to ruin his godly intentions; sometimes terrifying him with ugly sights, lashing his naked body with most cruel stripes, violently carrying him out of his cell into the air among the horrid shapes of hellish monsters, casting He seethe the paine● of the da●ed. him into the bogs, and puddles of the fens, dragging him and tearing him through the briers and brambles, and lastly lugging him even to the mouth of hell itself, where not without grief and sorrow he beheld the souls of the damned tumbling among those sulphurous flames in the fuffrance of unspeakable torments, into which they insultingly threatened to cast him allsoe, unless he would forsake his habitation in that Island, which they termed theirs. All which injuries and cruel practices, he bore off with the shield of patience; using that of the Psalmist: O Lord God in thee I have hoped, save and deliver me from all that persecute me; And as they thought to have got the victory, the holy Psal. 7. Apostle S. BARTHOLOMEW his peculiar patron appeared in great light and splendour, and commanded those damned furies to restore him again to his cell, without doing him any further injury: Which as they gently and quietly performed, a choir of angels from above was heard singing that versicle of the Psalm. Ibunt Sancti de virtute in virtutem videbitur Deus Deorum in Sio●● Psal. 83. Thus triumphing over his infernal enemies, out of their vexations he learned to be more humble, fervent, careful, powerful, and wary in all his actions. He drives away the 〈◊〉 with the sign of the Cross. VI AGAIN, as once he was saying his matin's, he saw two ugly devils miserably weeping, and lamenting, of whom ask the cause, Because thou (answered they) prevaylest against us in all things, insoe much that we dare not presume to touch or come near thee. But the blessed man, making the sign of the Cross, they vanished out of his sight. Yet ceased not therefore to trouble and molest him, by almost all the means their devilish envy could invent. Sometimes making a sally into the Island in great troops as if whole armies of the Brittans (who at that time cruelly destroyed the Englishmen and among whom heretosore he lived in banishment) The subtle deceip●● o● the devil. had invaded him: other while making the whole Ilad tremble with their hellish noise by coming in great multitudes to his cell, in the forms of brute beasts, when he should hear the bleating of sheep, the bellowing of oxen, the hissing of serpents, the neighing of horses, the howling of wolves, the roaring of lions, the braying of asses, the groaning of bears, the grunting of swine, and diverse other most horrid noises, which furiously encompasled him. Against all which he used as brave patience, and virtue, as in times past those He confoundeth the devils that assault him. famous Ermites' of Egypt so much praised by S. HIEROM, S. ATHONIE, S. HILLARION and others, and not long since our most worthy and memorable S. CUTHBERT, in the Island of Farne. For being besieged, as is aforesaid, he armed himself with the sign of the holy Cross, saying: It is in vain, Satan, for thee to tempt me: our Lord is my assistance, and I will despise mine enemies. It this the similitude of the Most-High, which in times past thou wouldst assume to thyself in heaven? art thou he who then through pride didst aspire to the form and likeness of God himself and now dost vilely and filthyly transform thyself into the ugly shapes of brute, and unclean beasts? Verily thou dost persecute CHRIST'S poor servants to thy own great damage: for by how much the more thou endeavourest to build upon their backs, by so much the more resplendent crowns of glory thou heapest on their heads, to thine own confusion. But turn into what shape thou wilt, I am certain, that nether death, nor Rom. 3. life, nor angels, nor powers, nor principalities, nor any other creature shall be able to separate me from the charity and ●oue of God. With these and such like words he put to flight all those troops of infernal monsters, and ever after he not only overcame all their hellish delusions, plots, and sleights, but allsoe got absolute power, and command over them, as his slaves. VII. THEREFORE those wicked spirits, seeing they could not prevail against him with their own practices of mischief, they incensed a clergiman that lived under his spiritual rules and government, called Bertheline, with a wicked cogitation and temptation, secretly to murder his holy master, thereby to enjoy, as it were, by inheritance that little house, & whatsoever else belonged unto him. But Bertilines' He seethe the wicked practices of Berteline. impious meaning being revealed unto the Saint, he sent for him, and discovered unto him all his secret counsels & purposes, to wit, where, when, and by what means, he had determined, to execute that bloody exploit. Who presently falling prostrate at the holy man's feet with repentant tears humbly craved & obtained pardon, & ever after, he was very faithful to S. GUTHIAKE, & remained with him until death, and had the honour to lay him in his grave. Furthermore whilst he lived in this solitude his excellent counsel was ven profitable unto many for the good both of soul and body, being famous allsoe for expelling devils, and curing diverse corporal diseases. Many things done a fare off he saw, and declared as present: and by the spirit of prophecy he foretold many things to come, long time before they happened. He lived in this solitariness for the space of fifteen years, in which time, all his actions, words, and ininwardest His virtues in this solitariness cogitations, breathed nothing else but sweet odours of piety towards God, and peace and charity towards men. No man ever saw him give the lest signs of pride of mind, or make the lest show of anger in his countenance; but in both he always observed one selfsame settled, and unremoved constancy. His aspect ever calm and quiet, courteous and affable in his speech, very prudent in giving counsel, of a singular humility of mind, and a wonderful continency in his diett, clothing, & all things. But albeit the greatness of the labours and afflictions whereunto he exposed himself in The love of God overcometh all difficulties this desert seem after a manner to exceed all humane strength and power, yet out of his immense love to almighty God, and the almost undoubted, and tried hope of future glory, they seemed very light and pleasant unto him. All which, God the only crown of his saints, and their labours, did wonderfully assuage, and moderate, with many extern and intern consolations: when besides others already named, the fowls of the air, and fishes of the waters, were serviceable and obedient to his commands: and twice a day, (after he had been two years in the Ermitage) morning and evening, he He discourseth with an Angel. deserved to intermingle most heavenly and unexplicable discourses with an Angel: which a little before his death (being conjured thereunto) himself confessed to Berteline, who before had often heard him discourse, but knew not with whom. VIII IN the mean time, he was visitted in this rude place by many He is made Priest. He comforteth King Ethelbald and ore relleth the restitution of his kingdom. great men, by Hedda bishop, who promoted him much against his will, to the sacred dignity of Priesthood: by Ethelbald, them a banished man, afterwards King of the Mercians, who coming often to receive some comfort in affliction from S. GUTHLAKE, had great confidence by his prayers to be delivered from the bloud-seeking hands his enemies. Nether did his hope deceive him, for the holy man with the efficacy of his good counsel, not only gave new courage to his mind almost quite overthrown with sorrow and affliction; b● allsoe by a propheticque spirit, foretold that through his prayers, he should obtain his kingdom and glory again, and that his enemy had not long to line. Only (said he) be mindful that when almighty God shall have done well for thee, thou be not ungrateful. A certain Abbot allsoe that came to visit S. GUTHLAKE, had given leave to two of his clerks, feigning some necessary business, to go to a village hard by, where in a widow's house, they most wickedly gave themselves to the works of gluttony, drunkenness, and dishonesty. In the mean time all their actions were revealed to the holy man, who told the Abbot where they were, what they said and did, as distinctly, as if he had feene them. The Abbot returning to his monastery, told his clerks where they had been, with all other circumstances of words and works that had passed, whereby being much ashamed, they humbly craved pardon for their fault. IX A noble man belonging to the foresaid King Ethelbald, and a young man of Eastanglia, both violently vexed, and possessed by the He freeth two possessed persons. devil, but the later so extremely that he was mad allsoe, in so much that he would set upon all that came near him with stones and staffs, and whatsoever else he could lay hold on, whereby he slew three men that sought to bind him: nether in his fury did he spare his own body, for with his teeth, and nails he would tear his flesh in pieces. At length, having been led by his friends to many holy places, all in vain, he was brought to S. GUTHLAKE, who by a triduall perseverance in fasting and prayer, springling him with holy See the virtue of fasting and prayer. water, drove away all power of the devil, and restored him safe and sound to his friends. The other was freed by girding himself with S. GUTHLAKES Girdle. About the same time, the venerable Abbess Eaburga sent a leaden coffin, with a fine linen shroud to S. GUTHLAKE, humbly and earnestly entreating him to permit his body to be buried therein after his death, desiring withal to understand, He foretelleth his successor. who should succeed him in his hermitage. The holy man unwillingly receiving the present, sent her word back that his successor was as yet a Heathen, who shortly having received the sacramet of baptism, should inhabit that place, as it came to pass: for one called Cissa, after his decease, received the faith of CHRIST, and became his successor. X. AT length the day of his death drawing near he called Bertelin● unto him: And now (said he) my dear son, I am going to receive the rewards of my labours; I desire to be dissolved to reign He forseeth his own death. with CHRIST my beloved Lord, and Saviour. And after many speeches he enjoined him to salute his sister Pega in his name, & entreat her to come to the burial of his body. I have (said he) avoided her sight hitherunto in this mortal life, that more securely we may enjoy one and other in the immortal. And as he pronounced these and many other words full of piety, and consolation so great a sweetness proceeded from his mouth, that Bertheline seemed to smell like flowers of roses scattered in the air, or the distilled liquor of balm. But almighty God, as he had adorned him living in this world with many worthy favours and benefits, as well for his own, as for the health of others; so at the very hour of his death, & after his departure, he made him famous to the world with many singular graces. For falling sick, the wendsday before Easter, and departing this life the seaventh day following; albeit his forces were His denotion in his sickness. weak, yet he forced himself beyond his weakness, to celebrate the dreadful sacrifice of our saviours Passion at the altar, on Easter day. And from midnight until the morning before he died, a bright shining light encompassed the little house where he lay. At sunrising having strengthened himself again with the viaticum of our Lords sacred body; he spoke to his faithful disciple Berteline saying: The His death. time is come, my dear son, wherein I must pass to CHRIST, & lifting up his hands and eyes to heaven, he yielded up his most pure soul to receive her reward in the heavenly paradise of all purity; the eleventh day of April. When at the very instant Berteline saw, as it were, a fiery tower reaching from heaven down to the earth, the brightness whereof was so wonderful that the pale sun might envy so great a lustre. And the whole Island seemed to be spread all over, The Angel's 〈◊〉 at his burial. with a most pleasant sweet smell of heavenly odours: whilst the Angels themselves were heard to sing melodious tunes of joy, to the honour and increase of his glory. In the mean time, his godly sister Pega, rejoicing more than can be expressed, at so great glory of her brother, buried his holy body with great reverence in his own oratory: and at his burial, a blind man washing his eyes with the water whereinto was put some salt hallowed before by S. GUTHLAKE, received perfect sight. XI. HE DIED at the age of forty seven years, at four and twenty he begun to follow the wars, eight years he remained in that fierce His body is found uncorrupted. life, and fifteen years he lived in the service of God in the desert. But a year after his death, his sister desiring together with many other reverend, and holy Priests, to translate his body to a more decent and eminent place, they found him most whole and entire, more like a man asleep then dead. For all the joints of his body were flexible, & agile, as if the humours had run through the veins by force of the vital spirits: and all the he was wrapped in, were as fresh and fair, as the first day they were laid in. Then the body was honourably placed in a tomb above ground with great joy, reverence, & devotion of all. But the exiled King Ethelbald spoken off before, having understood the death of the holy man, came in mournful manner to the sepulchre, where pouring out many tears he complained that now he was truly left forsaken & desolate more than ever, humbly desiring the Blessed Saint by his merits and intercession, to obtain his deliverance out of those miserable afflictions. Unto whom S. GUTHLAKE appeared one night encompassed with resplendent bcames of glory commanding him to set aside all He appeareth to king Ethelbald. care, for that very shortly all things would succeed according to his own desire. Which prophecy was not spoken in vain, for within a year his advessarie died, and he was restored again to the free possession of his kingdom. XII. IN THE mean time, S. GUTHLAKES tomb began to flourish with wonderful miracles; for as many faithful Christians as came thither to demand help in their necessities, through his merits & intercession, were not frustrate of their desire. Nether was Ethelbald being reestablished in his kingdom, unmindful of his beloved Patron, For in the same place he built a goodly Church, and a monastery for the Benedictine Monks, & enriched it with abundant rents, King ●thelbald buil 〈…〉 a the Benedictin Abbey of Cro●●and. and revenues: which was after called the Abbey of Crowland. And in the same Church he erected a very sumptuous and rich tomb over his sacred body. Where although the place were full of fens and marshes being seated between the river Nine & the I'll of Elie, that it could not be come at but by boat, yet that house was always most open to the hospitality of all men, in so much that it ●as honoured with the litles of bounty, civility, and courtesy even to the letter times. Afterwards many other kings and Princes endowed Jngulphus Hist Croiland the same monastery with almost innumerable riches, and revenues, as appeareth by the history of Jngulphus a Monk of the same Abbey In which allsoe it is to be noted, and not without cause, that in all the variable change, and declining of the times, in so long and furious an outrage of the Danes, which ruined all such other monasteries, this remained always inhabited, albeit the Church and other buildings were quite ruined and burnt with fire. For in that time when the barbarous Danes spoiled wasted and rob all the Monasteries of England, the Abbot of Crowland called Theodore understanding of their neere-approching ruin, and threatened destruction, sent all the young monks to the number of thirty, with the riches and relics of S. CUTHLAKE, and others, to shift for themselves abroad, retaining only the aged men in the monastery, and a few children, supposing belike that their weakness would move Crowland destroyed by the Danes. the Barbarians to compassion. But it fell out fare otherwise, for when the same venerable Abbot had solemnly sung high Mass, and made the remainder of his devout Convent participant of the most sacred body and blood of our Lord, suddenly a barbarous rout of the Danes broke into the Church, and having martyred the Abbot before the high altar, with the like cruelty they murdered all the rest of the monks, some in the refectory, some in the Chapter, some in the Cloister, so that no room of that sacred Monastery remained, that was not full of blood and horror. Only one young Monk called Turgar, whose beautiful form of face and body (albeit he desired earnestly to bear his seniors company in that expedition of death) conquered the cruel mind of one of those bloody Princes, was saved, and reserved for the company, and sake of a young Count of the Danes called Sidrock. Then those ministers of cruelty breaking up the tombs of the saints there buried, committed all their bodies, together with the Church and the whole Monastery to the merciless power of the devouring flames. But Count Sidrok pulling young Turgars cowl over his head, gave him a Danish jacket, & made him wait at his heels wheresoever he went: till the holy youth finding an opportunity afterwards, fled from that Barbarous master, and returned again to Crowland, where he found his fellow monks that had returned the day before, labouring and sweeting to quench the unsatiable flames that yet raged among those doleful ruins, where he and four other monks, having according as they were able repaired a little habitation of defence only against the violence of the weather, made choice of one Godrick for their Abbot, and lived in a religious poverty, and a pious expectance to be restored to their ancient state, for the space of an hundred years and more. Till an aged man called Turketill, Chancellor to worthy King Edred passing by Crowland as he went on business for the King to York, was met by those blessed old monks, and with a pious courtesy compelled to lodge in their ruined Monastery. And hearing The monastery of Crowland reedisied. the woeful story of their miserable desolation, he was so moved to compassion, that having with much difficulty obtained leave of the King, he became a Benedictine Monk in the same place, and began in his old age to bear the yoke of our Lord in the profession of a monastical life. When by his means (King Edred helping thereunto) that Monastery was gloriously re-edified, and the lands, livings, and Lordships anciently belonging unto it; restored, and confirmed unto it, by the royal charters of the two Noble Kings Edred, and Edgar, to the great consolation of those good aged Monks, who now gave thanks unto almighty God, that he had given them the grace and patience, to see the destruction, and restauration of that worthy Monastery; whereof the venerable man Turketill was afterwards made Abbot. And herein may be seen a rare example of the wonderful providence of almighty God, who from so small beginnings bringeth to pass works of such greatness and excellency; as from the dwelling of one poor man saint GUTHLAKE, in that abject and horrid place, first to lay the foundation of so mighty an Abbey of worthy monks as this was; and then to conserve the succession thereof so strangely in those ●●ue● old men; of whom one called Clarenbald lived to see the age of an hundred threescore and eight years, an other named Swarling, to the age of an hundred forty two, & the third, Turgar, to an hundred and fifteen, all venerable in grey hair, and the profession of a monastical life. The life of S. GUTHLAKE was saythfully written by one Felix a monk of the same monastery, as he received it from the forenamed BERTELIN his companion, and CISSA his successor in the Ermitage; and dedicated to king Elwald of the East-Angles. Out of which we have gathered the foresaid history. All other English Historiographers do worth●y speak his praises. This Felix flourished about the year of our Lord 730. and S. GUTHLAKI about 706. of whose glorious merits God of his infinite mercik make us all partakers. Amen. The life of S. PATERNUS Bishop and Confessor. APR. 15. Out of joannes Anglicus. PATERNUS borne in little Brittany of noble parents, when he came to ripeness of years judging all true nobility to be seated in the lap of virtue, he contemned all those things which the world so much admireth, and in the nakedness of religious poverty followed CHRIST naked. And lest his friends and kindred should hinder his pious resolutions, he willingly banished himself from his country into Jreland, where he led a most holy monastical life in watching, fasting, and prayer. Afterwards, he came into South-wales, where he built many Churches and monasteries in the Country now called Cardigan-shire, and ordered them according to the monastical rules and disciplines of those times; in so much that in that country, he gained his greatest opinion of sanctity, and authority. But some jars arising between the kings of Southwalles and North-wales, which were ready to be decided but by the sword, by the mediation of S. PETERNUS they were easily pacified, and the He maketh peace between. Princes. princes entered again into a strict league of friendship. Great was the familiarity and friendship which grew between these three Saints, DAVID, TTELIAN, and PATERNUS: And they three divided all Wales into three bishoprics, one whereof fell to the share of S. PATERNUS, in a place then called Mauritania; where as he exercised the office of a good Pastor, teaching and preaching to his people, he was called back into little Brittany; and there through his strictness of life, and doctrine, which many would not endure, he Sampson Bishop. suffered much affliction of false brethren with patience. But Samson Bishop, who above all other was magnified in that province for virtue and holiness of life, used him with great honour, and reverence, as well becomed so great a saint. And albeit by the instigation of some of his brethren he once yielded to make trial of S. PATERNUS his obedience, and sanctity, (which was then testified unto him by a wonderful miracle) yet afterwards he humbly craved pardon, and became his very great friend, and defender against the other bishops, that impugned him, commanding that the Episcopal sea of S. PATERNUS, which was in the town called Guenet, should be free from all extern authority. At length, when peace was concluded on all sides, S. PATERNUS having governed his Church many years in a miraculous sanctity of life in this world, he departed hence to receive an immortal recompense of his labours, the fifteenth of April. The Inhabitans of little Brittany observe three festival days in honour of this saint, the day of the peacemaking with the other bishops; the first of November; the day he was made Bishops; and this day of his deposition; which is allsoe yearly celebrated with great honour among the Welshmen; in a Church dedicated to him called in Welsh, Llanpaternan that is saint Paternus Church. Thus much of his life we have gathered out of loannes Anglicus recited by john Capgrave, and Nicholas Harpsfield: that at lest the memory of so great a saint unto whom our Welshmen are highly bound, might not perish. The life of Saint STEPHEN Confessor and Abbot under the holy rule of Saint BENEDICT. APR. 17. Written by William Malipiero mesbury. lib. 4. reg. Ang. cap 1. STEPHEN surnamed Harding borne in England of noble parents, was brought up from his very childhood in in the monastery of Sherburne, under the holy rule of S. BENEDICT, till being now in the flower of his youth, when the nettles of the world began to sting his mind, fare otherwise inclined; he fled out of the danger into France, where carefully laying the grounds of true learning, he received the first efficatious motive to ver tue, and the love of God. For when his riper years had banished all boyish inclinations, he took a journey to Rome, with one other in his company; In which (albeit the way were long and difficult and their poverty little able to defray that charge) both going and returning they daily recited and sung the whole psalter. Having piously visited the sacred tombs of the Apostles they returned into Burgundy, where STEPHEN, in a new built monastery of S. benedict's order called Molismus, put on the habit and conversation of a Benedictin Monk. And at very first, he grew easily He taketh the habit of S Benedict. familiar with the precepts of S. benedict's Rule, in which he had beme conversant long before, but finding other statutes proposed which he had not read in the rule before, he began (all ways keeping religious modesty) to demand the ground, and reason of those laws. All things (said he) are governed with reason, but because through sloth and negligence humane frailty oftentimes falls from reason, many laws were made in times past, and from our holy father S. BENEDICT we received a Rule, to recall the scattered mutability of nature to the bounds of reason. In which, albeit many things be for which I can give no reason, yet the authority of the Author (who questionless received them from heaven) bids me yield thereunto. Therefore show an instance out of the Rule upheld with reason, and authority, and dictated by him, who was replenished with the spirit of all just men: this if you cannot do, you do in vain make profession of his prerogative, whose doctrine you refuse to follow. II. THIS opinion creeping from one to an other, much moved their hearts that feared God, lest perchance hitherunto they had, or might hereafter follow a wrong course. Therefore after a frequent disputation thereof in Chapter, S. ROBERT, the Abbott approved STEPHEN'S opinion, and concluded that they should surcease from following superfluous statutes, and search only into the marrow He departeth to cifterce. of S. benedict's Rule. But many, refusing to leave their old customs, some few only embraced S. STEPHEN'S opinion, and departed thence with him to the hermitage of Cisterce, which at that time was a desert habited place, but since, through his means, so flourishing with a worthy convent of holy monks, that it might seem a little paradise on earth. Here together with his fellows, he began to lead a very holy life in the strict and punctual observance of saint benedict's Rule, so that ROBERT Abbott of Molismus hearing the same of their holy conversation took with him twenty four other monks, and went thither, as well to be made a partner of their holy purpose, as a promoter of their intended course. But his own monks caused him shortly after to be recalled back to his monastery, by the authority of the Pope. And Alberick was created abbot of Cisterce in his stead: after whose death (and he lived but eight years more) our STEPHEN succeeded in the government of that new borne-Conuent, in whose time the holy Congregation of Cisterce began to extend itself, and flourish He is made Abbot of Cisterce. with a great name of religion, and all by the virtue and prudence of S. STEPHEN, who with the alms of devout people (and happy was the man that through his hands offered his money to God) built sixteen monasteries in his life time, of all which he was General. So that indeed he may be justly termed the chief founder of the whole Cistercian Congregation, which afterwards flourished all the world over as may be seen at this present day; for that Boor beginning, in time of his predecessor Robert, and Alberick, was so small, and so unsettled, that excepting the wonderful and peculias providence of almighty God, and this holy man's prudent care, and endeavours, it was likely to have taken no●great hold in the Church: that as at the first he was the occasion and cause of the first planting, so now he was the author of the great propagation of this famous reform of the Benedictin order. When among other titles of his praises it is not the , that he gave the Benedictin habit He gave the habit to S. Bernard. to that bright Ornament of the Order S. BERNARD, who under the obedience of our STEPMEN sucked the sweet milk of his mellifluous learning and devotion. And the same S. STEPHEN composed, and left to his brethren as his last will and testament, that worthy writing called CHARTA CHARITATIS (the Charter, or card of charity) wherein is contained an admirable manner of maintaining a connection of true peace and charity in all the monasteries of that Congregation, throughout the whole world; that all exhibiting honour to each other, their whole multitude of Abbeys, and monks should make all but one Body or Chapter, under one head, and Superior. And this was called, Charta Charitatis, because it chief tended to the conserving of love, and charity amongst them. III. AT LENGTH, when this blessed man had settled, established, and confirmed this new plantation with many holy laws of order and discipline, and worthily governed his stock according to our Lords true example of humility, till old age had quite deprived him of his sight, he gave up his pastoral charge, desiring wholly to betake himself to the contemplation of divine things, according to the royal prophet's counsel; taste, and see for our Lord is sweet. In this holy Psal. 33. sweetness, he spent the remainder of his life, always expecting the approach of the happy minute, wherein he should be released out of that prison, to the enjoying of the eternal freedom. Therefore his time drawing near many of the Abbots of his new erected Congregation, and a great number of the monks came to offer him the last service of their love, and duty. Who talking amongst themselves (as the holy man say gasping for breath) that a man of His wonderful humility. so great merits, and good works in the Church of God, might securely pass out of this world to God. Peace, Brethren peace (said he) for I am as fearful, and careful, of this my journey towards God, as if I had never done good work in all my life. For if by the assistance of divine grace, any good hath been in me, or any fruit proceeded from my weakness, I greatly tremble, and fear lest I have not conserved the same grace with that reverence, and humility as was necessary. And armed with the shield of this perfect humility which his dying words testified to be well grounded in his heart, he sweetly reposed in our Lord, the 28. day of March, but his feast is celebrated this seaventh of April, which is the day of his canonisation. This life is taken chief out of William Malmesbury who lived in the same time with S. Stephen. The Roman mart. maketh mention of him this day. Baronius tom. 11. Sigebertus in Chron. ann. 1107. Arnould Wion lib. 1. c. 42. Nicholas Harps field, and many others do amply speak● his praises. depiction of St. Elphege S. ELPHEGUS ARCHIEPISCOPUS CANTVA● Martyr 〈…〉 The life of S. ELPHEGUS' Archbishop of Canturbury, and Martyr, of the holy order of S. BENEDICT. APR. 19 Written by Osborne a monk of Canturbury. ELPHEGUS' descending by birth from most noble Ancestors ordered the whole course of his life according to the rules of excellent prudence, and humility. His parents much admiring the inocency of his industrious mind and life, put him to be worthily brought up in the knowledge of good learning, and the true wisdom of He taketh the habit of a Benedictin Monk. Christian religion. Wh●n this godly youth made it the whole study of his philosophy to learn how to lo●● God, desiring only to know, and obey him, and all wales to sub●●●● himself and his actions to the sweet yoke of his divine service. Being touched therefore with a spirit of majesty, neglecting his father's inheritance, and forgetting his mother's grief, who dearly love ●im▪ he forsook the vain world, and put on the habit 〈◊〉 of a monk of S. benedict's order in a little monastery called 〈…〉 st: where he began to set aside all the self-will of his own private des●●es, humbling himself to the service and obedience of all his brothers, whose only instrument, as it were, the s●●wed himself ●o be in a●● occasions: always stri●●●g with all to profit more 〈…〉 over in the love of God, and by much watching and fasting▪ to 〈◊〉 the rebellious motions of his body, to the rule and subjection of reason. And indeed, not only to himself but to whom soever else he was able to do good, he endeavoured carefully to perform it: which if he could not to some, 〈◊〉 ●e abstained from doing th●m harm. Having piously spent 〈◊〉 years in a monastical life● partly in the monastery aforesaid, 〈◊〉 partly in famous Ben 〈…〉 Abbey of Glasenbury) when he 〈…〉 aved the flourishing time of youth to steal away, he resolved to undertake a stricter course of life, and to enter into a single c●●bat● with the ancient enemy of mankind. Therefore going out of h●s monastery, he came to the place He undertaketh a solitary li●e. called Bathe, (where the warm strings that rise out of 〈◊〉 earth, are profitable against many diseases) and there he remain 〈…〉 tt close up in a little lodge, which he built himself, chastising his body with fasting, and abstinence after an incredible rigorous manner. Within a short time many of the better sort of the country flocked unto him, to discover the spiritual wounds of their souls, desiring to have them tented with the sharpness of his pious correction, and cured with the salve of his good counsel. Whence it came to pass, that within a short time he had gathered together no small Convent of monks in the same place, which himself governed according to the Benedictin rule and discipline which he had learned before. II. HE WAS wont greatly to blame, and rebuke those who did change their secular habit, but would not change their life. Doth not that man (said he) seem to be full of falsehood, who maketh Against those that change their habits, and not their manners. show to be what he is not indeed, whilst he conterfaits one thing in his habit, and bears an other in his heart? For it is better not to change our habit at all, then having changed, to neglect the conversion of our manners. But having erected an ample house for his disciples, and prescribed a perfect law of sobriety, and continency unto them, and taught them how to bridle and curb their carnal desires; he remained himself shut up in a little narrow lodging, where be attended only to the more important and weightier affairs of his monks. In the mean time, many of his subjects being unmindful of their promise and profession made to almighty God, the raines of obedience being let lose, began to spend whole nights and days, in employments unworthy their holy profession. Against whose grievous offences, almighty God sent a revengeful punishment. For as one night S. ELPHEGUS (as his custom The divine punishment of a negligent monk. was) stood a holy sentinel at his prayers, he heard a great noise, and clamour within the Monastery. And going forth, found one of the brethren lying along in miserable affliction; upon whom stood two men of most horrid looks, and filthy apparel, who cruelly scourged him with whips, and fiery serpents. And as he awaked, and roared out loud witnesses and signs of his extreme pain, his tormentors did upraid him; that as he had not obeyed God, neither would they obey him. With which words they continued their cruelty, till they had beaten his soul out of his body. At this woeful fight the holy man quite resolving into tears, returned back to his Cell. But the rest of the brethren, being terrified with this accident, confessed their faults, did worthy peanance, and amended their lives ever after. III. BUT the incomparable S. ETHELWOLD Bishop of Winchester being dead, a great contention arose between the Monks and the A contention about electing a bishop of Winch●ster secular clergy, touching the election of a successor. For the Clergy of that Church, that before led a most wicked life, contrary to the decrees of the holy canons, and being oftentimes rebuked for the same by the forenamed Bishop, they not only refused to correct their lewd manners, but laboured with an obstinnate spirit to defend their lewdness, it was decreed by a Regal law, that they should be expelled, and their function committed to others that were more worthy. Therefore, the clergy being driven out, the Benedictin Monks that feared God were introduced again. Whence it came to pass, that in the choosing of a bishop, the secular Clergy a Clergy man, the Monks desired to promote a Monk to the place, each striving to advance a man of his own coat. Which great S. DUNSTAN Archbishop of Canturbury perceaving, had recourse to the refuge of prayer, making an humble supplication to the all-foreseeing wisdom of God, to voutchafe to show whom his divine majesty judged worthy for the government of that Church. And as he devoutly and often repeated over his prayers, S. ANDREW the Apostle appeared to him with these words. Why art thou so sad? why dost make such lamentable complaints? Arise, and place the Abbot ELPHEGUS in the vacant Episcopal sea of that desolate Church. Nether let any contrary power withstand thee in this; for not from any man, but from God himself this sentence of him hath proceeded. And left thou distrust any thing in me, know that I am He is made Bishop the year 984. ANDREW the Apostle of JESUS-CHRIST, and a most faithful guardian of thy health and salvation. DUNSTAN much encouraged herewith, consecrated Blessed ELPHEGUS' bishop, as he was commanded, and sent him honourably to the sea of Winchester. iv BEING installed in that sacred dignity, he so wisely framed and The severity of his life. conformed himself to the manners, and humours of all men, that he became most beloved of all, and (which is rare among mortals) no man envied at his glory. He was most merciful unto all others; but to himself he appeared most cruel, and severe. For in the very dead time of winter, amidest the frost and snow, at midnight when all his people lay buried under the heaviness of sleep, he was wont secretly to rise out of his bed, and go out barefooted with one single garment See the holy man's wonderful ●eannes. a bout him, to busy himself at his prayers and meditation till morning. In his diet he was so extrenly sparing that he would rise from table all most as empty as he sat down, whence it came to pass that his body was taken down to such a low degree of leannes, that when at Mass he elevated the holy sacrament, the cleernes of the light might be seen through the joints in the palms of his hands. He knew how to temper, & fashion his mind, and speech to all kind of men. He permitted none of his diocessans to beg publicly from door to door, neither did he suffer the poor of other places to departed without an alms, judging it an unreafonable, & horrible offence for a man to usurp that as a property of his own, which nature ordained to be common to all. Wherefore he carefully maintained that he was no true member of our Lord's body, that did not secure the necessities of the poor. For if when one member of the body is in pain, the rest out of a compassion do not suffer with it, it is manifest that that is not a member of the same body, which in the sufferance of an other, is not disposed to compassion. But when those means were exhausted, which by right of the Church belonged to the maintenance of the poor, he caused the many treasures which he had laid up for that purpose to be distributed amongst them: giving posterity a lesson hereby, that Churches were endowed with store of riches, to serve in time of plenty for an ornament, and in time of want for profit. V BUT when that worthy Pillar of our English Church S. DUNSTAN perceived death to be at hand; and feared by the succession of some wicked person, the coming of trouble into the Church which now was well settled in peace, and tranquillity, he solicited with many prayers the divine mercle, that he might have E●PHEGVS his successor in the sea of Canturbury. His petition was heard in the holy court of heaven, and a grant promised: albeit the promise were not strait fulfiled. Which perchance was deferred, that more clearly it might appear unto the world, how highly S. DUNSTAN was beloved of God, who so truly performed a long time after his death that which he promised in his life time: and that S. ELPHEGUS might fall into such times, as should advance him to the glorious crown of martyrdom. Therefore, in the year of our lord 1006 and from the coming of the English into Britalne 578. S. ELPHEGUS in the two & fiftieth year of his age, when he had governed the sea of Winchester twenty two He is made Archbishop of Cant urburie. years, was raised to the Archiepiscopal dignity of Canturbury. Who travailing towards Rome to obtain his pall, as he entered to lodge in a certain town by the way, the townsmen perceaving him to be a stranger, & being very greedy of their own gain, broke into his lodging, rob him of what he had, & with stripes compelled him poor & bare as he was to get out of their town. Which Injuries man bearing away with patience, only a little grieved for his companies sake, returned the same way as he came. When he had not gone far from thence, but horrible cries were heard from the walls, which proclaimed the sudden ruin of the whole town. For an outrageous flame laid hold of the buildings, which furiously began to consume all to ashes: and seeing it still so vehemently ●ncreasing that there was scarce any hope of escaping a general destruction, & suspecting that it might be a punishment for that rude violation of hospitality, they ran after the holy man, humbly confessing their fault, and desiring pardon. The saint present taking compassion on their misery, made his prayers to almighty God, He receaneth his pall of Pope john the 19 and these horrible flames were presently extinguished, and their fury ceased. Therefore, his goods being restored, be happily ended the rest of his journey and returned again into England with his pall. And being settled in the Metropolitan sea of Canturburie he excellently performed whatsoever belonged to the dignity, and function of a good bishop. The virtue of chastity commanded so high a seat in his soul, that no man in his hearing durst bring forth a word any way drawing to obscenity, nor as much as relate any dishonest story. He was the comfort of the poor, the reliever of the oppressed, and the sole refuge of the afflicted. VI BUT o the variable condition, and inconstant state of this world! The holy man had governed his Church but four years, The Danes spoil England These miseries were re●ealed to S. D●nstan long before. when behold two Danish Princes called Swain, and Turkill, entered into England, using great outrage in some parts thereof, as a punishment for the poeples sins. But Swain being by the secret disposition of god terribly slain, Turkill having obtained the principality of a wicked inheritance, wasted and spoiled many Provinces in England with fire and sword. For king Etheldred being a weak impotent man not given to warlike affairs, made show in his actions rather of a monk then a soldier: and the people of the Country corrupted with the possession of their riches, and tied to their own pleasures, thought nothing honourable but the sole private commodity of their own bodies. Therefore, every one caring only for himself, and his own goods, all refrained from making war and no man undertook the common cause and quarrel of the whole country: since therefore it was to be fought, that every one should win that glorionsly with the sword which he desires to be master off. But among all these dangers, our courageous holy bishop, S. Elephegus preacheth to his enemies the Danes. was wont to preach the word of life to these enemies, the barbarous messengers of death, to ransom captives, and prisonners, and carefully to feed those whom hunger had almost brought beyond necessity. Whereupon, by how much he was honoured and reverenced by the faithful, by so much he was contemned & abhorred by those infidels. But he choosing rather to be called Beelzebub with our Lord, than Rabbi or master with the Pharisee, ceased not to follow on his pious work, endeavouring to comfort, and encourage the Christians in their faith, and to cowert the infidels to the faith. VII THE king had ordained one Edrick perfect over the whole realm; a man of base parentage, but one that with his tongue had purchased both riches, & nobility; (if that may be called nobility) of a subtle wit, a pleasing discourse, and one who had gone beyond all mortal men in the crooked ways of envy, falsehood, pride, & cruelty. This man's, brother being slain by the nobles of Canturburie, and his house burned, for playing the pick-thanck in detracting them before the king, & violently by unjust means invading many of their hereditaments, Edrick demands justice and revenge, the king denies his petition, affirming that his brother justly suffered death. Therefore this perfect having gathered an army of ten thousand men, endeavoured to revenge his brother's death by the sword which he could not by law. But his attempts taking small effect, he desired aid from the Danes, not only to destroy the city of Canturbury, but to invade the whole realm of England, which after the victory should be divided amongst them by lots. The match is made, they shake hands, and take solemn oaths for the performance and first they resolved to destory Canturburie. Which the holy bishop understanding, he called the people together saying: Be of good courage, my dear brethren, and place the majesty of almighty God before your eyes: fear nothing, but him who Matt. 10. Joh. 13. & 18. hath power to destory both body and soul into hell: arm yourselves with true humility, and patience: For CHRIST himself when he was God, and his father had given all things into his hands, would not be revenged on his enemies, but commanded the sword imbrued in the blood of Malchus, to be sheathed again into the scabbard of peace and patience. VIII. AT length, the city of Canturburie having been besieged The year 1011. the Dane● besiege Cant●rbury. by the Danes the space of twenty days, and the greatest part of their victuals and provifion within being spent, the holy bishop sent a messenger to advice those barbarians to cease from that wicked enterprise, and save the lives of the innocent people, lest too insolently they abused the scourge of God's divine wrath, granted for a time to chastise of his children. But the enemies scornfully despising his commands began rather to double their fury then any way to relent; raising of bulwarks, battering the walls, & casting of wild fire into the town. Till by the treason of Elmerick the Archdeacon (whose life S. ELPHEGUS had saved before) one part of the city was set one fire. The it was a pitiful spectacle to see how that devouring element, being blown with the fury of a south wind, did disperse itself, consuming all the buildings as it went. Then the citizens entered into a woeful deliberation with themselves, whether they should forsake the defending of their walls, to run to their own houses, or neglect them, & stand stiffly in defence of the city. But the common good was overthrown with private affection, the sweet remembrance of their children, & a natural commiseration to defend their family made them leave the defence of the town. They run therefore, to deliver their wives & children Canturbury miserably sacked from a midst the ravenous flames, to reserve them for the butchery of the Danish fury whose edge they shall quickly feel. For in the mean time, the walls are broken down, the furious army enters with such a horrible noise what with the clamour of voices, and sounding of trumpets, that the very foundation of the city seemed to shake, fearing to be oppressed with the ensuing ruins. Then they began to reap a bloody harvest in a field of miserable disorder and confusion: the whole city was a woeful stage full of nothing but blood and horror: some were cut of with the prince of weapons the sword, others consumed with fire, whose outrageous flames seemed to envy that some part of their prey was snatched Inhuman cruelties out of their jaws by the sword, many were thrown headlong from the walls that died before they came to their journey's end; Matrons compelled to discover treasures which they had not, are dragged by the hair of the head, and cast into the unsatiable flames. Little babes snatched from their mother's breasts, are pierced with their lances, or cruelly bruised to death under cart wheels. In the mean time, S. ELPHEGUS, who grieved to see such a general ruin amongst his people, being then in the Church with his monks, broke suddenly out of their hands that held him, and with a courageous resolution ran into the very midst and thickest of The wonderful courage o● Sell phegus. that murdering army, crying out with a loud voice: Spare spare, (said he) and as ye are men cease to persecute this poor innocent age. I● is not a victory wherein the innocence of sucking childr●● is slain: nether is there any praise or glory purchased by exercising deaths cruelties upon the meek and humble. Look upon me here that have all ways given my tongue free scope in chastising your impious crimes, I am the man, that so often have nourished, clothed, and redeemed the captives and poor prisoners by you punished. Rather let the whole fury of your wrath and anger be quenched in my blood, then in the slaughter of poor innocents. O sacred courage of a generous mind! o invincible Pastor of the faithful, whom no entreaties nor prayers of his chiefest friends could persuade to leave his flock for the fasegard of his own life! How worthily may that sentence of our Saviour be applied to this glorious Prelate? Bonus Pastor animam suam ponit pro ovibus suis. A good Pastor setteth his life at the stake for his sheep. IX. THEREFORE he was presently apprehended, and the He is apprebended and imprisoned. thread of his speech cut of by their violent hands that took him by the throat, his hands were bound behind him, his cheeks were rend and torn with their devilish nails, his sides endured many a sore blow laid on with their fists, and heels: the Church is committed to the flames, and all the flock of CHRIST slain with the edge of the sword. For the monks, and all the people men women and children throughout the whole town were tithed to the butchery, after a most cruel manner: nine were slain, and the tenth saved, so that of all the monks there remained but four, & of the rest but eight hundred in all the town. The holy bishop was committed to the horror of a close prison where he lay the space of seven months. In the mean time, almighty God poured forth his revengeful wrath against that barbarous people, so that within a a short time two thousand of them died miserably, through most cruel torments in their guts, and all the rest being suddenly strucken with the same disease were sooner in danger of death than they were a ware of change. Then they were admonished by the faithful people to do peanance for their sins, and make satisfaction to the bishop; which the● refused to do, imagining that afflction to have befallen them b●●haunce only. But their destruction still increasing, and prevailing against all those that had endeavoured to deprive the holy man of life, and now ten, now twenty being suddenly sent to follow their fellows to death, through most terrible torments of the head, and entrailes, struck such a terror into those that remained alive, that they ran strait to the bishop, and with tears desired pardon for their impiety committed: and having with honour led him out of prison, to the public view of the people; he spoke these words unto them: Although your insatiable cruelty deserve no pardon, yet by the example of our Lord, we are taught what we ought to do: who His speech to the people. Joan. 13 when he voutchafed to wash the feet of his disciples, did not exclude him, whom he foresaw would betray him into the hands of his enemies, nay he fed him with the most sacred banquett of his body, and blood: And having with the sole power of his word over thrown the officers of the Pharisees that came to apprehend Joan. 18. him, he presently raised them again, and cured them: and which is a notable sign of his great goodness, those, whom he perceiveth daily with a stubborn mind to resist his divine admonitions, he suffers notwithstanding to live, yea and to excel their betters in humane goods and prosperities. Wherefore, because I desire to be an unworthily devour follower of his sacred examples, forgetting the burning of the city, the shedding of so much innocent blood forgetting, I say, all the crimes of your former impiety done against me, as our Lord entreated his father in behalf of his Crucifiers, L●u. 23. so will I make intercession to him for you my tormentors. Bring hither then some bread, which forthwith shall be made wholesome, and sovereign against your infection: that being refreshed therewith, and receiving your desired health, you may either render thankes unto the supreme giver of all health, or remain more impious in your blasphemy, and sacrilege. And having given to With holy bread he cureth the infected Danes They rennder bad for good. them all, some of the bread which he had hallowed, they were delivered from that death-threatning infection. X BUT o barbarous ingratitude I all this goodness could not draw a dram of true courtesy from those bloud-thirsting hearts. For they were no sooner restored to health, but presently four princes were sent to the bishop, first to give him some slight thankes for his benefit, and them to 〈◊〉 of him to ransom his life and liberty, if he would enjoy either, with the sum of three thousand marks. Which when he refuse 〈…〉, as being a thing against all justice to give the goods of the Church to Pirates; they bond him again in retters, & being on the very festival day of Easter, afflicted with most exquisite torments, he was again shut up in a prison. Where, as in a pensive solitariness he gave thankes to almighty God, in that he was found worthy to suffer for a good cause, a See the subtle false hood of the devil. wicked spirit appeared unto him, in form of an Angel of light, who being the father of all lies could not but tell a lie at the first word, and say that he was sent from the court of heaven to deliver him out of the horror of that prison, for the common good of his people. Nether needed he to fear (said that agent of Hell) to be reproved with the name of a cowardly Champion for Act. 9 Act. 12. this, since he could not think himself humbler than the Apostles PETER who was led out of prison by an Angel; or valianter than saint PAUL, whom was stolen out of the midst of persecution in a baskett. And CHRIST himself, to escape the hands of those that would have stoned him, went out of the Temple, 10. 8. and by an evangelical precept gave licence to his disciples to fly from the face of persecution. The holy bishop deceived Matt. 10 with these faire-seeming speeches, yielded to follow his deceiver out of the prison. And having passed over many ditches and brooks, of water, through the dark and horrid shades of the night, on a sudden the wicked spirit vanished, and left the holy man in the midst of bogs and marshes; who now perceaving the guiles of his false leader, fetched a deep sigh of grief from the very bottom of his heart, and casting himself into Behold a miserable case the midst of those miry places earnestly implored the assistance of our Lord in that misery. O Fountain of all life, (said be pouring out woeful streams of tears) o sole refuge of the children and stock of Adam, why hath thy heavenly grace forsaken me in my old age, whom in the flower of my youth it was never wont to fail? Wilt thou suffer him whom so long thou hast mercifully preserved, to be cast away, and perish at the last? O my beloved Lord, how often in the shiphrack of this mortal life have I had thee my deliver? Let me now again, I beseech thee, have experience of thy consolation in this unhappy illusion of my enemy: be my aid in this unlucky hour of my affliction. The prison is behind me, a river before me, darkness round about me, and the horrid author of darkness by me, so that wretched ELPHEGUS thy servant stands encompassed on all sides with troops of miseries, and left poor to thy mercy, thou I hope wilt be an aid to thy forlorn Orphan. XI. WITH these and such like speeches, the woeful witnesses of his afflicted heart, he ceased not to calluppon the divine mercy, S. Elphegus comforted by an Angel. when behold there appeared a young man clothed in most bright shining apparel, bearing the ensign of CHRIST'S passion in his hand: and whither (said he) dost thou wander? whither dost thou desire to fly? Whither doth thy envious conductor lead thee? Is it the way to purchase a crown by flying out of the lists of the battle? Or how can he glory in the prize of the victory, who would not run to the end of the race? To whom, when the bishop had answered, that he did not fly, but obeyed the command of heaven's messenger: This was not a message from God (replied the other) but a false invention of the devil's malice, who did not so much desire to educe thee out of prison, as to seduce thee being out. For he is shrewdly nettled with the pious works of thy life past, and to see thee always enjoy the present consolation of the holy Ghost in all thy afflictions: whose presence giveth constancy to all men, constancy gets victory, and victory purchaseth everlasting glory. Return them to the place deputed to thee from above to obtain thee a crown, and know that to morrow our heavenly father will honour thee in heaven, with that eternal happiness to live with his son for ever. XII. Now that Saint ELPHEGUS was brought back to the Again he is cruelly tormented place of his trial, with great joy he expected the hour wherein he should receive the crown of martyrdom. But being come near to the prison gate he was apprehended by a troop of those butchers, who having cruelly beaten him with stripes, and hurt his brain with grievous blows upon the head, locked him up in a prison almost half dead, where every hour of the night they cast on a fire made of purpose whatsoever they could imagine would yield the filthiest stink, and smoke, to annoy the holy man in that close room. But a good part of the night being past, the gates of heaven opened, and those glorious spirits began to be compartners in The Saints come to visit him. his sufferings, and to breath forth the sweet odours of eternal life, resounding with their melodious voices hymns of celestial joy and melody. Whom, as S. ELPHEGUS heard, and considered to the great comfort of his painful soul, he beheld saint DUNSTAN late Archbishop of Canturbury, glorious in countenance, and habit, assisting amongst them, who stretching forth his hand, spoke to him in these words: To thee; o Invincible Champion of our eternal King, to honour thee with our duty we come, sent from him, who hath granted thee victory over thine enemies, and prepared thee an ever-florishing crown in heaven. Behold what company thou shalt perpetually enjoy after this mortal life, the citizens of our heavenly Jerusalem, and the most glorious domestiks of God; if thou overcome with patience, what remains to be suffered for the love of CHRIST. For we have beheld the manifold labours of the city, the burning of the Churches, the slaughter of our children, thy chains, and reproaches, and the redoubling of thy torments after benefits bestowed upon them. Armed then with the power of heaven, do thou willingly undergo what remains, knowing that the sufferances of this time are not Rom. 8. wort ie of the future glory, which shall be revealed in us. For the time of torment is but one day and that a short one too, but that of reward is infinite and without any end. Take good courage then, and fight manfully, to obtain the eternal glory promised to those that for the love of God overcome the world. At these words those glorious spirits vanished. XIII IN THE mean time his fetters & chains fell off, and all his sores All his wounds are healed miraculously. and wounds were perfectly healed. When it was an excellent sight to behold ELPHEGUS' singing with those heavenly choristers, and rejoicing amongst their joys. But the next morning had no sooner made a glorious show of a good meaning, but he was led out of prison with an armed band of soldiers, and carried ca horseback to receive his sentence, before the judgement seat of impious tyranny. Where this choice was given him; Either pay gold for thy ransom, or this day thou shalt be made a miserable spectacle to the world: I offer you (answered he with an undaunted courage) the gold of divine wisdom, which warns you to leave the vanity you His judgement. love so dearly, and turn the whole care, and endeavour of your minds, to the true service of the only living God, which divine counsel so o●en proposed, if yet obstinately ye despise to follow, ye will perish by a world death then ever Sodom did, nether shall you or your succession take any long-during root in this land. At these words those officers of hell leapt furiously upon him, and having beaten him, with their halberds to the ground, they began to lay a● him with stones, and whatsoever else came to hand. Whilst he being got upon his knees, poured out this prayer to almighty God. O JESUS-CHRIST only son of the eternal father, who camest into this world through the womb of the immaculate Virgin MARIE, to save sinners, receive my soul in peace, and have mercy on these my tormentors; with that he was stricken flat to the ground, but rising again he went on; O good Pastor, O only Pastor, defend the children of thy Church, which with a dying voice I recommend unto thy divine care. Than one called Thrum, whom the day before he had confirmed, ran violently upon him, and with a cruel blow fastened his merciless axe in his sacred head: whereby that conquering spirit was set at liberty to receive a glorious and triumphant crown of martyrdom in heaven. But the Princes of the Danes desiring to hide the wickedness of their own fact, and darken the lustre of the Martyr's glory, decreed to drown He goeth to heaven a martyr. his dead body in the river; supposing thereby that the foulness of their crime would so much the more easily be kept close, by how much the more the memory of the Saint was blotted out of the minds of the people. But what the Danes intended for his reproach, CHRIST turned to his glory. For all that multitude of people, which by his preaching had renounced their errors, stood up in arms for his defence, choosing rather to accompany him in death then to suffer his dead body, by whose means while it lived, they had received the ablution of life, to be buried in the unsatiable A controsie about his body. gulf of the waters. Therefore that sacred relic, being a cause of controversy between two people of disageeing opinions, remained unburied and undrowned. But the consellours of both parties meeting in the evening with the force of reason to decide the cause of that contention, it was concluded by common consent of both sides jointly to make intercession to the Saint himself, that if he were of any power or estimation before the face of almighty God, he would show the strength of his authority, in the decision of this doubtful question. Behold (said the impious Danes) a bough cut from its nourishing stock, deprived both of bark and moisture; if this imbrued in ELPHEGUS his blood, shall appear the next morning flourishing in the green weeds of summer, it shall be granted that we have put to death a just, and holy man; and you shall have power to bury him with as much honour as you please. But if this would remain dry, and withered, as now it is, it shall be lawful for us to say, that you have been blind in your affection towards him, and it shall be in our power to dispose of his body as we think best. XIV. THE condition being willingly accepted on both sides, to A notable miracle. the end it might manifestly appear to the world that S. ELPHEGUS' his death was not a death but a beginning of a better life, that withered branch in the space of one night began to flourish, and wax green, and albeit it were planted in the ground, but the evening before, yet it was found adorned with the green liveries of spring, the next morning. Whereupon their obstinate minds beginning to relent, they striven to prevent one and other with embracing and kissing the dead body, humbly bowing down their stubborn necks, and bathing his deaths-wounds with the floods of their repentant tears. Therefore his body being lifted on the shoulders of his enemies, was carried in triumph to the new borne tree, as to the flourishing trophy of his glory; accompanied in the way with almost innumerable miracles sent from heaven as testimonies of his cause, and goodness. For the sick received their health, the blind their sight, the deaf their hearing, the dumb their speech, and the Many miracles. lame the perfect use of their limbs. And in a chapel of devotion built over him in the same place, many of the Danish nobility became ennobled with the Christian faith, and new borne in the sacred font of baptism. But when the Londoners understood all these passages, they obtained by the means of a sum of money, which commands all things, to have his sacred relics transported to London, where by the hands of the bishops Ednoth of Lincoln, and Alfhune of London, it was very honourably interred in the Cathedral Church of saint PAUL. This Blessed Saint was martyred the ninteenth day of April, being the saturday after Easterday, in the year of our Lord one hundred and twelve, the seau nth year of his bishopric in Canturburie, and fifty ninth year of his age. But God, the almighty defender The divine punishment of his murderers. of his servants, shown so great examples of revengeful punishment against the authors of his death; that one of the captains was the bloody cause of his one death, an other cut his own throat to avoid further inconvenience; a priest that hide the holy Martyr's cross was crossed out of this life with the sword; and one of the same function that presumed to wear the holy Saint's pantafles, was before all the people cruelly tormented by the devil. And so horrible a terror seized on all the Davish princes, that not daring to trust themselves on the footing of the lands they would needs adventure their lines at sea, immagening there to escape the holy Martyr's anger, whom the earth could not keep in safety from it. But they found the sea a fare more implacable element to suffer such impieties, for they were no sooner launched into the deeps, but the blustering winds raised such tumults in those floating Kingdoms, that of an hundred and threescore fail, all suffered shipwreck excepting threescore and five ships, which being driven to straying countries, all the men were miserably slain by the inhabitans, who took them for spies sent to invade their dominions. But the wicked ringleader of mischief Turkill, stayed a while in England to play the Pirate, likely at length to become a prey to the damned spirits. XV. FOR NOT long after, Canutus King of the Danes came Turkill worthily punished. with a great navy into England, where falling out with Turkill for some wicked and perfidious actions of his, he destroyed the whole remnant of his impious adherents, and followers, and compelled the Captain himself to fly with six sail into Denmark: where being suspected by the princes to become an author of some civil dissensions, and broils, he was persecuted all over the country, till at length, being murdered by the base common people, his soul was sent to the rewards of her impiety, and his body thrown into the open fields to be buried in the guts of ravens and wild beasts. But after this, Canutus perceiving his people to be continually slain by the English army, and finding that the neighbourhood of necessity compelled him to think of yielding, he consulted with some of the wisest Englishmen, that had fled to him for refuge, to know what might be the cause of those many mischances that had befallen him; they all with one voice said that it was according to the prophecy of the holy Martyr S. ELPHEGUS, who in his afflictions by the Danes his predecessors, foretold that they should take no sure root in the kingdom of England, but should perish by a worse death than Sodom. Now therefore (said they) if thou desire to pacify that holy Saint during the time of thy reign, promise him, that thy affairs succeeding well, thou wilt cause his sacred relics to be honourably transported to his own archiepiscopal seat of Canturbury, and buried Can●tus promiseth to trauslate his body to Canturbury there amongst his predecessors. Which promise faithfully made by Canntus (having within a while obtained peace, & after peace the own half of the kingdom, and after the half, the whole) was as faithfully performed. For ten years after the holy martyrs death, Canutus sent for Egelnoth Archbishop of Canturbury, who coming to London went directly to the Cathedral Church of S. PAUL where the king presently gave him the meeting, and declared that the cause why he sent for him was, to make use of his authority and counsel, in the translation of S. ELPHEGUS' his body to Canturbury. XVI. THE Archbishop much amazed at the breath of this proposition, answered; that surely his majesty had not taken mature deliberation, and considered sufficiently the reasons and grounds of adventuring on so great an enterprise. And moreover, that for his part he feared lest he would be torn in pieces by the Londoners, who would rather lose their lives, then be deprived of so great a treasure, and Patron. And you see (said he further) that we have here only ourselves and two Monks, and the stone that covers his monument is of that weight and bigness, that some yoke of oxen are scarce able to move it. But the king, armed with the shield of a most invincible faith, answered, that Gods, and the holy Martyr's assistance (if that translation were pleasing unto them) would not be wanting in a time of such necessity. Therefore the labour was committed to those two monks; one of them was called Alsward in times passed of familiar acquaintance A strange m●racle. with S. DUNSTAN; and the other Godrick, with Egelnoth now present. But for want of other instruments, they broke up the cement, and lesser stones which fastened the tombstone, with an iron candlestick found there by chance. Then, putting all their confidence in God, and the holy Saint's intercession, they fell upon their knees, and set upon a work, which they knew fare exceeded their own strength; and laying their shoulders to that huge stone, with great ease they moved it to the other side. When presently they beheld that sacred body to be most entire, and uncorrupted; and Willam Malmesbury affirmeth for ceataine that it remay: ned in the same integrity, for the space of one hundred years after. Deg●t. Pont. lib. 1 & de gest reg. l. 1. cap. 16. But now an other thought troubled our two busied monks, which was that they wanted a board to carry the holy body to the boat; in which perplexity as they composed, and wrapped it in linen , they found under the body a board, as it were prepared for the same purpose. Then lifting up that sacred treasure on their shoulders they carried it to the water side, the king and Archbishop following after: who in the mean time had disposed garrisons throughout the city, and on both sides of the river Thames, to prevent all occasion of tumult among the citizens. Being wafted over to the next shore, Canutus with his own hands put the body into the waggon: and thus with great pomp, and honour, guarded with a mighty troop of soldiers it was transported to Canturbury, and there received with great reverence, and joy of the whole city. His body translated to Canturbury. And the third day after, Queen Emme, with her some Hardecaunt, very devoutly visited it, leaving behind her many very ample, and rich offerings as evident witnesses of her faith and devotion. XVII. NETHER was there wanting store of divine miracles, which at that time honoured this translation, and allsoe in after ages: and from thence forth he was held, not only for a most holy bishop, but for a Martyr too. Wherein, when S. LANFRANK Archbishop of Canturbury made some doubt; (because he did not die directly for the confession of the faith, but in that he would not satisfy the covetousness of the pirates, and ransom his own life) and proposed the reason of his doubt to the worthy S. ANSELME then Abbott of the Benedictin monastery of Bec in France, who afterwards succeeded LANFRANK in the Archbishopric; S. ANSELME most gravely, and elegantly handled that question, affirming that it was a thing not to Eadm. in vita Anselmi. l. 2. be doubted but that ELPHEGUS, who was inflamed with so great love to wards God, and his neighbour, that he chose rather to suffer a cruel death, then to see his neighbours unjustly deprived of their goods and money; would with a fare greater inclination and burning desire have embraced a death offered him for the profession of CHRIST, and his Gospel. Therefore the love and desire he had to see justice exactly defended, and maintained, brought him to those strieghts. Now CHRIST, who is both justice, and Verity, pronounceth those all so to be blessed that s●ffer persecution for justice. Again, the martyrdom of S. JONH Baptist (endured not for the Math. cap. 1. Faith, but for the truth, in reprehending Herod for adultery) is of most famous memory throughout the whole Church: and why not that of S. ELPHEGUS' suffered for the maintenance of justice? which, and the works of all other virtues, as they are referred to almighty God, may be true causes of martyrdom. These, and such like reasons moved LANFRANK not only to honour hi●h ever afterfor a Martyr, but caused his life to be faithfully written by Osberne a monk of Canturbury (whom we have followed) which he confirmed by his authority, and made to be read in the English Church. The day of his glorious martyrdom was celebrated the ninteenth of April, on which he was martyred. The history written of him by the foresaid Osberne, S. Thom. 22. qu. 124 art. 5. is recited by Laurence Surius tom. 4. The particulars of his translation we have taken out of Nicholas Harpsfield saec. 11. cap. 9 The Roman martirologe maketh mention of him. And Baronius tom. 10. & 11. Malmesbury de gest. reg. lib. 1. & de gest. pontis. lib. 1. Roger Hovedon priori parte Annal. an. 1011 and 1012. Matthew Westminster an. 1011. john Capgrave, and all our English writters are full of his praises. In the Breviary of Sarum he hath anoffice of three lessons: But in an ancient manuscript of S. benedict's Order which belonged to the monastery of Burton upon Trent he is served with twelve lessons. depiction of St. Anselm S. ANSELMUS ARCHIEPISCOPUS CANTVARIENSIS. Monachu● Benedictinus. April. 21. 〈…〉 The life of S. ANSELME Archbishop of Canturb. of the holy order of S. BENEDICT. APR. 21. Anno. 1080. Written by Edmerus a monk. of Cant. that lived in the same time with S. Anselme. IN WRITING the excellent life, and incomparable virtues of the worthy Prelate S. ANSELME, who from the humility of a Benedictin monk, was raised to the Metropolitan dignity of Canturbury, we most perforce imitate the art of Geographers, who in the comof a little card describe the globe of the whole world: I will comprehend APR. 2●. in a few words, that which well deserves a volume, and give you a brief portrait, or a bridgement of the works of this glorious Saint, this great doctor, this mirror of Bishops, this ornament of our English Church, and bright sun of the Benectin family. Unto whom (that nothing might be wanting for the making up of a man perfect in all things) was added the nobility of a godly, & honourable parentage. He was borne in the city Augusta near the confines of Burgundy. His His worthy parentage. father was called Gundulphus, by nation a Lombard, who using much to the city of Augusta married there a lady called Ermerberg, by whom he had the happiness to have ANSELME. They were both of noble blood, & rich, but very contrary in life, and manners, for his father's greatest care was to spend his time in worldly mirth, and pleasure, and to live merrily: when on the order side, his wife carefully governed her house, constantly persevering in the continual exercise of pious, & virtuous works, to the last gasp of her life: But Gundulphus, being by the death of his good wife, freed from the bonds of matrimony, His father becometh a monk. it pleased almighty God to make him enter into more pious considerations, & reclaim his old age, tired with sailing among the turbulent pleasures of the world, to retire to the quiet shore of a monastical life, wherein he spent the rest of his days happily. But ANSSELME, the worthy branch of this noble stock, in whom from his tender age it seemed virtue was incorporate, to become visible to mortal eyes, with the silver innocence of his sweet carriage & behaviour purchased the love & affection of all men. Well doing which other men get by labour, & industry, seemed to be in him by nature, since he had consecrated his infancy through the ignorance of vice, and emulation of virtue. Being set to school, he profitted beyond all his other fellows. He had scarce seen fifteen years of age, but strait he began with a grave prudence to consider with himself of the dangers, & miseries of the world, plotting how he might better settle himself in the true service of God; when he resolved that no manner of life was comparable to that of monks, & religious men. Therefore being desirous to leave the world, & become a monk, he asked the S. Auselme ask the habit of a monk, is denied. habit of an Abbot of that country, who fearing his father's displeasure that was ignorant of ANSELMS intention herein, refused to grant his request. But ANSELME constant in his holy purpose made his prayer to almighty God to send him some corporal sickness that so at lest he might become a monk and a Patient in Religion, to cure the diseases (or rather conserve the innocence) of his soul. His prayers were heard and his request granted: when languishing in his desired sickness, he sent to the Abbot with many earnest entreaties to be admitted into his order, for that now he feared death was at hand. But he, upon the same humane respects as before, again denied his petition. II. AFTERWARDS, his health returning again, worldly pleasures and prosperities so sweerly smiled upon him now in the flower of his youth, that the fervour of his former purposes and desires, began by little a little to grow cold (especially after the death of his good mother, whom he highly loved and respected) & he took again to himself free scope to follow the inclination and desires of his sensual appetits; not only forgetting the spirit of his first Vocation, but allsoe omitting his study in sciences, which before he had so carefully His father's anger against him. followed. But while thus he hunted in the train of his own passions, it pleased almighty God to look upon him with the eye of a merciful clemency, and permitted his father to enter into such an extreme dislike of him, that he could not afford him as much as a good look, hating, and disdaining in his son, as well the good, as the evil: when on the other side, nether his filial humility, or duty, was of power to appease, or any way satisfy his angry father. Whereupon he chose rather to renounce all his worldly inheritance, then to endure the storms of such fury, fearing to run the hazard of further inconvenience. Therefore, judging his friends and domesticques to be his greatest enemies, he forsook his father's house to seek his content and repose elsewhere. He departed with one only companion, & partly in France partly in Burgundy, he spent the space of three years. But the worthy fame of Lanfranks piety and learning coming to his ears, he ranged himself into the list of many other young men of his virtuous school, in the Benedictin Abbey of He becometh schol ler to Lanfrank. Bec in Normandy. When it was rare to see, how ANSELME was not so joyful to be a scholar of so excellent a master, as Lanfrank was glad to be a master to so worthy a scholar. The master's care and labour in teaching, was rewarded in the scholar with an extraordinary diligence of learning what he taught, in so much that in a short time, he not only made a great progress into the knowledge of holy scriptures, and other good doctrine, but allsoe exercising himself in watching, and prayer, and other acts of devotion, he became very desirous to attain to the height of virtuous perfection. For the familiar conversation he used with his good and virtuous master S. LANFRANK caused the light of his ancient resolution towards a monastical life, again like a fair morning of piety, to break out through the clouds of worldly vanities, wholly to dedicate himself to God's service: True it is that he was much perplexed with difficulties to attain the end he aimed at. On the one side he found himself greatly inclined to lead a solitary life in the desert, thereby to apply and employ his thoughts more securely in divine contemplation: on the other side, he thought it a more secure way, to live under the rod of obedience in a monastery: again (his father having left him heir of great lands, and goods) he was in doubt, whether he might not do God greater service, living in the world, and yearly distributing the best part of his means to the poor, & pious uses. In these perplexities this prudent young man would not of himself resolve any thing, in a matter of so great moment, but consulted his master LANFRANK, sincerely laying open the secret thoughts of his heart, fully He consulteth Lanfrank of choosing a course of life. resigning his will into his hands, with intention to follow the dictamen of his good counsel. The master was unwilling to resolve his scholar, in a matter of such importance, but referred it to the judgement of the venerable Prelate Maurill Archbishop of Roan: unto whom they went both, and proposed their difficulty: who, having heard the cause, counselled ANSELME to embrace a religious and monastical life, as the most perfect, and assured way to heaven; and following this advice he resolved to humble his neck under the sweet yoke of CHRIST in the holy order of Saint BENEDICT. III. BUT THERE remained yet an other difficulty, of choosing the place, whether he should take the habit at Clunie, or Bec: at the first, he thought his labour, and learning might be to many profitable, at the other, he feared it would, like a little star before the sun, be darkened with the bright splendour of LANFRANK, and so become of little or no service at all. While his thoughts were tossed with these wavering opinions, he began to discourse with himself in this sort: Why ANSELME what dost thou mean? what dost thou think on? Dost thou intent to make a monastical life the first step to obtain fame, glory, renown, and superiority? God forbidden: For the true scope of a monk, must be to humble himself to others, and He taketh the habit of S Benedict. utterly to despise all titles of honour & dignity. And this thou wilt attain to at the Abbey of Bec, or no where. Therefore without all delay, he went thither & put on the habit of S. benedict's order in the said monastery, where the venerable man Hurluin was Abbot, who out of his own means and patrimony had first built, & founded that Abbey. ANSELME was then at the age of 27. years, when he became so careful, & attentive to imitate the virtues of his other brethren, that at the term of three years, he became himself to be a bright mirror of religious perfection, and monastical discipline to the whole convent. So that B. LANERANK being taken from the Priorship to be made Abbot of the monastery of Cane, ANSELME much against his will was created Prior in his place. Which title of He is made Prior. honour did not only, not hinder him in the way to perfection, but was rather a means more freely to apply himself thereunto, by the continual practice of divine contemplation, & heavenly discipline followed with so great fervour, that he attained to suchan height of speculation, that he discovered, & maintained with evident reasons, many questions, and assertions of the divine nature, never heard off before his time. Lying one night awake in his bed, he had many doubtful thoughts, how the Prophets did not only see things present, but things to come allsoe, foretelling them as distinctly as they had been present. And being not able to perceive how this might be, his understanding laboured with an incredible desire to be resolved in this point: when on a sudden fixing his eyes towards the Church and dorter, by the means of a divine light, the beams of his eyes pierced through all the walls interposed, and shown him the monks (whose office it was) adorning the altar, preparing the quire for the singing He s●eth through the walls. of matin's, lighting of candles: & at the knock of the bell be beheld them all rising out of their beds, & going to the divine service. Being much amazed hereat, he understood by this heavenly lustre, that it was a very easy matter with God to make the Prophets foresee things to come, since he permitted him with corporal eyes to see what passed through the resistance of so many walls. iv FURTHERMORE, being replenished with the clear light of wisdom, he had such a certain discretion of spirits that he easily pierced The great light of his f●●le. the manners and inclinations of all that came to him, even to the knowledge of their secretest thoughts. He discovered allsoe the vetie source, and root of virtues, and vices teaching with wonderful rules, and examples, how to purchase the one, and avoid the other. His virtuous exercises. Out of the continual contemplation of the celestial happiness, and an ardent desire of the everlasting life, he would oftentimes pour out whole floods of tears, equally bewailing other men's sins, as his one. He had so great force and efficacy in giving of counsel that the very spirit of all good counsel seemed, as in a throne, to rule and reign in his breast. His continual exercises in fasting, watching, prayer, and other mortifications of body to bring it subject to the spirit, were such, and so great, that they deserve rather to be admired then written. In fasting, he had got such a natural habit, that he was nether molested with hunger, nor delighted in satisfying his hunger with eating. He slep very little, employing all his time in the careful execution of his office, in comforting the afflicted that had recourse unto him, in praying, in meditating, in studying, in composing many devout books, and corecting such as were corrupted. V THE prudence, charity, and meekness he used in governing His prudence in governing. his subjects, and training them in the study of true virtue and religion, was admirable, especially towards those, who were less obedient than was requisite; Among whom were some, who greatly envied that he was preferred before them, to the Priorship, & others who did carp, and back bite all his sayings, and do. Against these and their malice the prudent holy man, fought with so great discretion, in showing them all duties of fraternal charity, that with the sweetness of his demeanour, he broke their stonic hearts, and with the majesty of his humility and modesty, he reclaimed them to the level of his own will. This sweet, and meek spirit, which our Lord bestowed upon him, appeared more clearly in that which passed between him and a young monk called Osberne, one of a piercing wit, and good ability, but a very libertine in his manners; of a turbulent, and detracting spirit, and in all things so contrary to his superior that he disdained to give him a good look, when he was admonished to follow the rules of modesty, and virtue. Him, running headlong into the ruin of his One osberne i●ateth S. Auselme. own soul S. ANSELME undertook to cure, which he performed with wonderful great art and prudence. For perceaving his course to be in a desperate violence inclined to vice, he did not presently thunder against him with the terror of sharp words, & corrections, Anselms pious craft to reduce him to good. but first shined in all love and meekness towards him, giving scope for a time, to the raines of his inordinate passions; when OSBERN● perceiving how he enjoyed his pleasures under the wings of his allowance, began exceedingly to love him, and wholly to put himself into his hands: Off which desired occasion the holy man taking hold, he began with a little more sevetitie to curb his depraved manners, to cut off all his boyish actions, and to admit nothing worthy reprehension in him, which was not sharply revenged both with words, and stripes. Whereby it came to pass, that he who before was on the brink ready to tumble into a precipice of vice, was brought to the firm land of religious, and regular observance, whereon he kept sure footing, to the hour of his death, which followed shortly after. During the time of his last sickness, S. ANSELME waited himself upon him, and after his death, either said or caused (when he could not) a mass to be said every day for the health of his soul the space of a whole year, and by his means, many other servants of God did the like. A good example for all Superiors to learn how to carry themselves in winning, and correcting the sometimes turbulent spirits of their subjects, how to deal with their sick, and lastly how they ought to pray for those that die under their A good les●o● for Superiors charge. VI HE SHOWN no less charity towards an other monk, grey in old age, but green in virtue, who by the instigation of the devil, was grievously incensed against the holy prelate, so that he could not affoor him a good word, or look. This poor monk happened to fall sick, and coming to such extremity, that he expected nothing but death, he seemed to behold two cruel wolves, which took him about the neck, and endeavoured to strangle him; whereat he roared & cried out so dreadfully, that S. ANSELME, then busied in the cloister, ran towards the infirmary, to know the matter, and entering See the virtue of the ●oly Cross. into the chamber, made the sign of the holy cross upon the sick man, saying: In nomine patris & filij & spiritus Sancti: and strait he was quiet, confessing that when ANSELME made the sign of the Cross, he saw, as it were a fiery lance shot out of his mouth, which feared away those ugly wolves that sought to devour him. Then being exhorted to penance for his sins, he confessed, and was absolved by S. ANSELM, who allsoe foretold him the hour of his death: all that heard, & saw what passed being greatly edified, with so great charity of the Saint, & amazed at the wonderful light of his soul. The like bounty and goodness shined in him at other times in his great care towards the sick, visiting, comforting, rejoicing, & with his own hands serving them, and doing the part not only of a true Father but allsoe of a most charitable Mother amongst them. So that in all their necessities, the monks had recourse unto him with as great confidence, as the child hath in his mother; laying open before him all the secret passions and wounds of their souls, which he like an holy Physician (because he knew the root and origine of them all) easily cured. This union of the parts of the body with their head, & subjects with their superior, is the Nurse, and Soul of all religion. VII. HE willingly employed himself in bringing up young youth of Young gentlemen brought up in monasterics. a middle age, judging his pains therein, to be so much the more profitable, as that age (like unto soft wax) was apt to receive, & conserve all the lineaments of virtue imprinted therein. It was a venerable custom in those times to nourish and bring up gentlemen's sons of the best sort in Monasteries of S. benedict's order, either to become Religious, if they were so addicted, or by that virtuous education, to make them more capable in their riper years, to profit the common wealth. An abbott, in great reputation of holy life, came one day to vistt S. ANSELME, & discoursing with him of the government of monasteries began greatly to complain of the liberty & disobedience of the young gentlemen under his charge: and that he watched night and day over them, and made their faults to be severely whipped and chastised, and yet, it seemed, that the more he kept them under, the worse and more incorrigible they grew. And what (said S. ANSELME) became of these children when their were at age, or what profit reaped you out of all this whipping and scourging? Gentleness most requisite in bringing up youth. For the most part (replied the Abbott) they grow to be great ignorant Dolts. Then S. ANSELME. This manner of education of youth seemeth to me most uncertain, for even as if one who by hedging in of young plants, doth so choke them up with thorns, that they can neither grow, nor put forth their boughs, will consequently bring no fruit, nor profit: so in the nourishment of children who are rich, and delicate plants, to bring them to good one must use a fatherly love towards them, giving them a gentle, & discrete liberty, and not always making them slaves with fears, threatenings, and stripes. Because, when they do not acknowledge and find in their tutors and masters that guide them, the cordial affection and love of a father, they think whatsoever is said, or done to them proceeds out of chollar, hatred, and malice. And as they grow in age, they grow allsoe in a greater defiance of their masters, of whom they have as great horror, as a thief of his executioner. Rules for superiors in their government. In fine, S. ANSELME taught the ABBOTT, that true government ought to know how to temper sweet with sour, clemency with severity, and to cure wounds not only with the sharpness of wine which closeth up, but with the suppleness of oil allsoe, which softens and opens the sores. For although hard bread and crust, be good for those that have good teeth, yet sucking children cannot eat it. And if a superior will guide all his Inferiors the same way, without discerning the different conditions and inclinations of the persons whom he governeth, he will certainly commit many gross faults, to the great affliction, and loss of his suiects. The fame of S. Auselme draws many chollers. VIII. S. ANSELME then, environed with the glittering beams of excellent virtues, his renown was carried on the wings of fame over all Normandy, through France, into Flanders, and England; so that many learned and pious men, came to the monastery where he was Prior, to range themselves into the spiritual warfare, under the colours of S. BENEDICT, striving to receive the habit at his hands, and to live under his correction, and discipline. Nevertheless, he was so prudent & reserved, that he never solicited any man to give himself to God rather in his monastery, then in any other, but all ways left it to their choice, to enter into what Convent they best liked; to the end that if afterwards they happened to repent they should have no just occasion to murmur, or coplaine against him. But they came so thick of their own accord that the Abbey of Bec, was in a short time wonderfully increased in temporal, & spiritual goods, of many good religious monks; and Abbott Herluine being dead, ANSELME, by the common suffrages of all the Convent, was chosen to succeed in his place; albeit he laboured with prayers and tears against it, throwing himself prostrate at the feet of the monks, and conjuring them by the dear passion of our lord ISSUS CHRIST, not to charge his weak shoulders with such a weighty He is chosen Abbot of Bec. burden. In fine, when all his resistance did but increase their importunity, he yielded, sincesuch he perceived was the will of God. Being therefore made Abbott, he governed the monastery with such holy prudence, and prudent holiness, that this new increase of dignity, was in him, as a discovery of a new mine of shining virtues whose beams amazed all behoulders. IX AT that time, there were many possessions in England belonging He cometh into England to the Abbey of Bec, to visit which saint ANSELME went over into England. At Canturbury (where LANFRANCK his old Master was Archbishop) he was with wonderful great honour received by the Benedictin monks of that city which he no less ingeniously then elegantly put off, affirming the greater honour, and greater affection of charity, to reside in them that performed it, then in him to See his great humility. whom it was performed. Because he, who unworthily received that undeserved duty, could expect for it no reward from God. For what (said he) can be due to me from God in that any one shows love towards me? But to them from whom this love proceeds, he oweth a reward for their pious affection, and he will not fail to lay up store of grace for them. But the more he sought to avoid honour, the more still was thrown upon him: when people of all orders, sexes, and conditions, strove to do him the highest honours they could, and amongst the rest, King William the Conqueror, who albeit otherwise a Norman of a fierce and barbarous nature, yet towards saint ANSELME, beyond all men's expectation, he behaved himself with an unaccustomed courtesy and kindness, to the great admiration of all. But the Saint quickly wearied with these honours, thought his journey in nothing so well spent, as in the sight and conference he had of his old Master LANFRANCK the Archbishop, between whom discoursing of many grave affairs, fell, at this time, that famous disputation (mentioned in his life) of S. ELPHEGUS' the Martyr. Afterwards, he returned again to his Monastery, and governed the same the space of fifteen years, with all virtue belonging to a good prelate. In the mean time William Conqueror died, leaving the crown to his onne William Rufus, who by all indirect ways possible, sought to oppress and impoverish the Clergy and Church, thereby to satisfy his own unbridled covetousness, and with their gold to give a glorious outside to his own wickedness. Whereupon S. ANSELME, at the earnest entreaty of the nobles, resolved to come again into England. But in the mean time Lanfrank being dead a rumour arose of the advancing of ANSELME to the archiepiscopal sea of Canturbury; which made him (o wonderful contemmpt of honour!) to defer his journey for five year's space. How many be there now adays that would have taken post in this case? X. COMING at length to Canturbury he was saluted by the Benedictine monks, and others, as their future Prelate, which he took so S. Anselme refuseth the stile of Archbishop heinously, that the next day, he departed before the sun was guilty of his being in town, albeit it were the very feast of the Nativity of our Lady, refusing to be won by any prayers, to celebrate there that solemnity. Thence he went to King William and dealt freely with him to amend his manner of life, to order the common wealth in better fashion, as well in Ecclesiastical, as temporal affairs, telling him withal, what an ill opinion of his bad life was blown over the world. But the king was deaf to all good counsel; till falling into a grievoussicknes, he began to make him remember himself, and hearken a little more to his pious persuasions. His is chosen Archbishop of Cauturbury. In the mean time being put in mind that the sea of Canturburie was void of a Pilot, & that that Mother-Church of England had many years been a widow, he proclaimed ANSELME to be the most worthy of that dignity, that the disciple might succeed his master. And this his proposition was presently accepted with the common consent, and applause of the Benedictin monks of Canturbury (unto whom the election of the Archbishop belonged) and the general liking of the people. Only ANSELME with might and main resisted this election, and obstinately refused to undertake the dignity, with tears alleging many reasons, and excuses, he made many protestations that it was a very foolish and overthwart proceeding to join to the plough an old sheep yoked with an untamed bull, (by the bull meaning king William) But all in vain, for the pastoral staff was forcibly thrust into his hands, himself violently drawn into the next Church was proclaimed Archbishop, and his election witnessed with many joyful acclamations, and singing of the himme Te Deum Laudamus etc. And now the day of his consecration and installation at Canturbury was prefixed to the fourth of December, when by the opening of the bible this Sentence fell to S. ANSELMES' lot. Homo quidam fecit caenam magnam, & vocanit multos etc. XI. AT THE first King William shown goodwill and friendship Note the covetousness of the king. towards S. ANSELME, in hope that being now advanced to so great dignity, he would bestow some worthy present upon him: but as soon as he perceived that ANSELME had no such meaning, he began to repent himself of this one, albeit a rare, good deed, and being wholly given by hook or by crook (as they say) to get money, he not so required as exacted a friendly gift of a thousand pound sterling for a gratuity for his advancement to the Archbishopric. But saint ANSELME hating that unroyall covetousness in the King, was determined not to send him a penny. Till swayed by the counsel of many friends, lest he should greatly exasperate the king to the greater detriment of the whole English Church, he sent him five hundred pound promising to gratify his Majesty more largely when occasion served. William utterly refused to accept that present as too slender and sparing a reward for a king. Whereat S. ANSELME greatly rejoiced, because by this means he cleared himself from all stain of honour, which for this fact malice might have laid to King William moved against S. Anselme his charge. And without any delay he distributed that whole sum of money to the poor. Afterwards, he began to call upon the King to have a Council assembled for the reforming of the Clergy and establishing of Ecclesiastical discipline in the Church. But his good intentions received a sharp rebuke from the king, who sought by all means to break all the liberties of the Church, in persecuting the Clergy, invading the Ecclesiastical goods, and other such outrages, that the holy man could neither hinder his unjust proceed, Noah execute his function in peace. So that albeit he were wholly disposed to stand strongly in defence of the truth, and the freedom of the Church, yet than he judged it more expedient for the avoiding of greater inconvenience (which even the other bishops, and country, backed with the authority and power of the King might cause) to absent himself a while out of England, imagining that to be the safest way both to appease the enraged king and qualify the tempest of the country. XII. THEREFORE he made a supplication to the king to permit him to go to Rome to obtain from Pope Urban the second, the Pall due unto his archiepiscopal seat. The king, amazed at this demand, answered that no man in his kingdom should acknowledge any Pope of Rome without his consent, and that he himself was after a fashion Pope within his own dominions. Which answer infinitely afflicted the holy archbishop, who to extinguish this spark of infernal fire before it went any further, assembled a Council He summoneth a Council of the Bishops, Abbbots, and peers of the realm, wherein having declared the king's mind, the consequence and importance of the matter, he found the greatest part of the bishops inclined to subscribe to the Princes will: (so great is the power of flattery and ambition, joined with the authority of a furious, and resolute king:) for they cried out aloud that he was a person impious, and rebellious to the king and state, whosoever would attempt to maintain any obedience in England to be due to any but king William alone, as well in Ecclesiastical, as temporal matters; robbing the Pope hereby of his primacy and sovereign power over all the Catholic Church. S. ANSELME seeing this unlawful proceeding, and that he could not resist against so horrible a stream, desired leave of the king to leave the kingdom, and go to Rome; but he received diverse times a bitter denial. The king always affirming that he would hold him as an enemy to his crown and the common wealth, if the attempted that journey. And that at his first instalment in the Archbishopric he had bound himself by oath to observe the laws, and customs of the country which forbidden going Rome without the kings leave. The holy man answered; that it was not the part of a Christian prince to cut of any He appealeth to the Pope appellation to the Roman sea of PETER: and that he had engaged himself to the observance of no other laws then what stood with the honour of God, and good reason. When the King, and his replied; that there had been no mention made either of God or Goodness. To which ANSELME. O goodly do! (said he) that shun the name of God or Goodness. Which words put all his adversaries to silence for that time. But the king's anger and hatred against him increased more and more every day; which also so terrified many of the other bishops, that they began openly to forsake their Metropolitan, and not to defend his cause: although in their hearts they did not utterly disprove it. XIII. IN the mean time saint ANSELME constantly told the king that notwithstanding all this opposition, he would go to Rome and before his departure (provided that he king would not reject it) he promised to give him his benediction, which done, he went to Canturbury, where after one days stay, having with an oration He goeth to Rome like a pilgrim. full of piety and affection exhorted his monks to follow the train of virtue, and to put on the armour of constancy and patience against the imminent dangers that threatened to follow, he put on the habit of a pilgrim, to the great grief of all his friends, and especially of the monks of Canturbury, and went to take shipping at Dover; and with him went Eadmerus a Benedictin monk of Canturbury who writ his life. They passed over into France, & to Lions where S. ANSELME was entertained with wonderful magnificence and respect by Hugue Archbishop of the place. The Pope understanding of his being there, sent for him to come to Rome with all speed. Where he was honoured by all the court, and so highly praised by the Pope in presence of the Cardinals, and Lords of Rome, for his great learning, and piety, that the holy man much confounded and ashamed therewith, durst not lift up his eyes before the company, which humility made them all judge him to be an other manner of man in the presence of almighty God than he appeared by his outside. Then he solicited the Pope in nothing more, then to get leave to lay aside his Episcopal dignity, for the love of a private life. But Pope Vrban would by no means grant his request, but advised him to seiourne a while in a monastery of Benedictine Monks near the city of Capna; where by the prayers of Saint ANSELME a lively fountain of water sprung out of a hard rock, which is called, A fountain out of a Rock by his prayers. the Bishop of Canturburys Well, and the water cured many diseases. XIV. S. ANSELME was present, by the command of the Pope, in the Council of Bar, where he made show of his knowledge and prudence in the convincing of the Greeks, & proving the holy Ghost to proceed from the father, and the son, as from one Beginning. And mention being made in this Council of king William and of his outrages committed against ANSELME, and the Church, his crimes appeared so heinous, that all proclaimed him worthy to be cut off from the Church, by the sentence of excommunication, had not ANSELME interposed himself, and falling on his knees, The wonderful humility, & meekness of S. Anselme. craved a time of respite, which with difficulty he obtained. And this his meekness, and humbleness of mind gained him a wonderful great favour amongst them all. The Pope being returned to Rome is met by an ambassador from king William, to defend the King's cause against ANSELME, who but newly came from playing the part of an advocate in his behalf. And by the importunity of this ambassador the cause was committed to be heard in a Council held at Rome; where S. ANSELME himself was present, and certain seat was allotted to him, and his successors of Canturbury, if any should afterwards chance to be present in a Roman Council. And here the Pope by the consent of all the Prelates, thundered an excommunication against all lay persons (for many princes at that time were over busy in those affairs) that intruded themselves in challenging the investitures of bishoprics, and against all ecclesiastics that received them at their hands. This done, ANSELME returned to Lions in France, quite hopeless of coming into England, during the reign of King William. Where as he was exercised in his The death o● William Rufus. accustomed works of piety, and virtue, news was brought that by the permission of almighty God, his greatest enemy was rob of his power to hurt him, for king William being on hunting the second of August, in the midst of his game was shot through the heart with an arrow, which gave a miserable end to his miserable life. It is not credible how greatly S. ANSELME was afflicted with this news, and chiefly at the manner thereof, professing with many sighs, and tears, that he would willingly have redeemed his unhappy death, with the loss of his own life. XV. HENRY the first of that name, and brother to William succeeded, who with the great applause of the whole country recalled King Henry recalle●h S. Anselme. S ANSELME into England, and endeavoured to gain his favour thereby, promising together with almost all his Lords and Bishops of the realm, that all things should be carried according to his own liking. But when ANSELME was come, and the king understood of the Pope's decree made in the synod of Rome, touching the investiture of bishoprics, he was wonderfully enraged, and conceived so great hatred against S. ANSELME, that unless he would receive his Archbishopric, as restored unto him by his only authority, there should he no place for him in the kingdom. And this ANSELME absolutely refused to do, as being contrary to the late decree of the Roman Council. So that the matter being tossed and disputed a long time to and fro, the king at length persuaded him to go to Rome together with his Ambassadors, to get this act recalled by Pope Pasehall the second, who now had succeeded Vrban. S. Ansel. goeth again to Rome. The holy man, to avoid greater inconveniences, undertook the journey, foretelling before he went that the Pope would do nothing contrary to the liberty and decrees of the Church. Nevertheless he went, and being arrived at Rome was received with fare greater honour and respect then ever before. Then it was hotly disputed at the Lateran, of the king's affairs, and many reasons brought in by William procurator of the king's cause, in defence thereof. Who came at length to such a vehemency and heat in his pleading, that with sharp & threatening words he affirmed, that the king would rather hazard the loss of his whole kingdom, then be deprived of this right. Nether would I (answered the pope) grant him this power although it were to save my own life. And with this resolution he dismissed the Ambassadors, who returned towards England. But by the way, the fornamed William declared by the kings command unto S. ANSELME, that he must cease from entering more into England, unless he were resolved to obey the Kings will. So that saint ANSELME diverted to his old lodging at Lions, where he remained the space of a year and four months. XVI. IN the mean time king Henry seized on all the goods and lands belonging to the Archbishopric, and challenged them for his own use. When the Pope seeing no hope of reconciling the King to S. ANSELME; purposed by excommunication to cut him off from the communion of the Church Which resolution of his being made known to the king touched him to the quick, and made him begin more exactly to take saint ANSELME cause into his consideration. And at length he called him to him out off France into Normandy, where they came to a parely, at the Abbey of Bec: In which the King patiently taking the holy Archbishop's reprehension for many abuses, promised a future amendment, and never more to disturb the peace or exact any fruits belonging to the Church, or Churchmen; and hereuppon he received S. ANSELME into his favour and sent him in peace to his Archbishopric, to the great contentment and enjoy of the whole Kingdom. Here now we may see of what power the constancy of a good Prelates is, when purely and sincerely for the only love and service of God, they defend the authority of the Church, without any pretence of temporal respects by flattering kings in their injustice, and suffering themselves to be carried away with the wind of worldly favour. We may see allsoe the great grace which God shown to kings that respect his Church & Churchmen, for as soon as King Henry had submitted himself, our Lord gave him a noble victory against his Brother Robert, by means whereof he got the Signiory of the Dukedom of Normandy. Of which victory he presently made saint ANSELME acquainted by letters, ending thus. Werefore Venerable father W●ll. Malm. l. 1. de Pont. (said he) humbly and devoutly prostrate at the feet of thy sanctity: I beseech thee to pray unto the supreme judge, by whose will and arbitrement I have gained this glorious and profitable triumph, that it be not to my damage and detriment, but for a beginning of good works and the service of God, to settle and confirm the state of Gods-holy Church in peace, and tranquillity, that from hence forth it may live free, and not be shaken with the tempest of wars. XVII. AFTER the kings return out of Normandy, a famous Synod A synod held at London. was held at London in which in presence of S. ANSELME, and all the bishops & Abbots of England, he resigned all the power (which hitherunto he had usurped in creating, & ordaining bishops) to the Pope and Clergy. S. ANSELME therefore being installed again in his Church, in great peace and quietness, performed the part of a most holy and vigilant pastor the space of about three years; S. Anselme falleth sick when loaden with old age, labours and merits he fell into a great sickness, and specially in his stomach, which made him abhor all sustenance, till by little and little the forces of his body being exhausted, he fainted. And when the infirmity of his body was such that it would not suffer him to go to the Church, notwithstanding he was carried thither every day in a chair, to be present at the sacred mysteries of the mass, whereunto he bore a singular great devotion, pierie, and reverence. At length, seeing himself to draw near his end, he received the holy sacraments of the Church, and gave his benediction no the assistance humbly recommending the king, queen, and all the whole Kingdom to God's holy protection: and lying on a haircloth strewed with ashes (according to the pious custom of those times) he rend r●d, up his blessed soul to the everlasting possession of all blessedness; on wednesday morning His happy death. before Easter, the one and twentith day of April, in the year of our Lord 1109. the sixteenth since he was made bishop, and the threescore and sixth of his age. He was buried in great solemnity, and lamented by his Church, and the whole Kingdom of England, which lost a Master, a Father, and a Pastor so holy, so wise so courageous, and so venerable. XVIII. Our Lord ennobled this glorious Saint with many miracles His wonderful miracles. both during his life, and after his death. 1. As he was one night at his prayers, he was seen to be encompassed round about with the brightness of a heavenly splendour. 2. One that drank only of the water in which he had washed his hands, was cured of a most pitiful leprosy that reigned all over his body. 3. By the sign of the cross he quenched a mighty fire that was ready to devour the chamber where he ●ay. 4. One of his religious most cruelly possessed with the devil, was cured only by the well-wishes of S. ANSELME. 5. Many diseased persons were cured by his prayers, or eating only the relics of his dinner. 6. The ship which carried S. ANSELME, albeit a board broke out of it, yet the water was miraculously hindered from entering. 7. At his death, the balsam which anointed his body, like unto the flower of Holy, was miraculously increased. 8. And the stone, in which his body was to be buried being not of sufficient capacity to receive it, was suddenly enlarged without humane help, to the great admiration of the beholders. Many other miracles we omit; But the greatest miracle that ever God wrought by saint ANSELME was saint ANSELME himself, and his life, more divine than humane. He writ many admirable works, with which he enriched the Catholic Church, and with the singular reach of his understanding, and doctrine, and a peculiar gift from heaven, he gathered together His admirable writings. the subtility and excellence of many Theological questions, seasoned with the sweetness of piety, and devotion. Of whom a grave author Trithemius in his work of the famous men of S benedict's order saith. That he was a man well acquinted in holy scripture, and the learnede●st of his time in humane doctrine, most holy in i● life, and con 〈…〉 tion, most devout in his soul, eloquent in his discourse and full of effi●●●● 〈◊〉 his works. He was of an angelical countenance, of a grave gate, of an exemplar life, continual in the study of holy scriptures, and one in whom lay hid a golden mine of virtues, and goodness. He was mirror of Prelates, the glory of his country, a pillar of God's Church, and a bright ornament of the Benedictine family; and he is one of the four renowned Doctors of the same order that have written in praise and defence of the B. Virgin, and consequently are The Benedictine Doctors of our B. Lady. styled and called by the name of the four Doctors of our Lady, the other three are S. HILDEPHONSE Archbishop of Seville in Spain, B. RUPERT Abbott of Twy in Germany and S. BERNARD Abbott of Clarevall in France. And our S. ANSELME second to none of the rest, was the first that caused the feast of our Ladies immaculate Conception to be celebrated in the Church the seaventh of December, when he had learned, by the revelation of an other Benedictin monk, from the same Virgin, that such was her will and pleasure. God of his infinite mercy make us partakers of his glorious merits. Amen. His life we have gathered out of Eadmer a monk of Canturbury and the companion of all his troubles, and Edmond monk of the same place, who added a treatise of the discord between S. ANSELME and the two unruly Kings. William Malmesbury. de Pont. lib. 1. the Roman martirologe, Baronius tom. 11. an. 1109. and innumerable others do highly speak his praises. The life of saint MELLITUS Bishop and confessor of the holy order of saint BENEDICT. APR. 24. Out of venerable Bede. AMONGST the holy Benedictine Monks which S. GREGORY Pope of Rome sent into England to supply the want of Preathers in so great an harvest, and to help S. AUGUSTINE and his fellow- Benedictins in the conversion of that Kingdom, MELLITUS an abbott of the same order was the first and chiefest. Whom about three years after his arrival S. AUGUSTIN Archbishop of Canturbury made Bishop of London the principal head city of the East-Angles, where Sebert nephew to Ethelbert King of Kent kept his royal Mellitus first bishop of London. Court, albeit he were under the power of Ethelbert, whose authority over the English stretched to the river Humber. But when this province by the industrious preaching and labour of saint MELLITUS had received the Christian faith, King Ethelbert built that famous Church of saint PAUL the Apostle within the walls of London for the Episcopal seat of Mellitus, and his successors. But how greatly this holy man was beloved of God, and the whole court of heaven, manifestly appeareth in the consecration of the Church of Westminster, which office of his S. PETER the Apostle performed for Bishop MELLITUS, with his own hands; as may be seen more at large in the life of S. EDWARD the fist of january. S. AUGUSTIN being dead, Mellitus bishop of London went to Rome to consult Pope Boni●ace the fourth touching many necessary affairs of the English Church. And namely for the good establishment of the newbuilt Baron. an 610. monastery of Westminster, as also to know whether the consecration of a Church performed in the aforesaid manner, were valid. The Pope in a Synod held at Rome, in which S. MELLITUS had a place, ordained many laws for the peace of the Benedictine monks, and conservation of monastical discipline; and decreed against the envious, that monks were the fittest instruments in God's Church for Apostolical functions: which decrees Mellitus brought with him into England for the confirmation and establishment of the Benedictine order and Mission in that country. II. BUT the death of the two good Kings Ethelbert, and Seb●●●, was cause of great damage to the tenden beginnings of that new See in S. Laurence 2. of Febr. Church; for the three sons of King Sebert (who during the time of their father dissembled a little in religion for fear of him) fell after his death to flat Idolatry, and gave licence to all their subjects to do the like. And when they saw the holy bishop MELLITUS (having celebrated the sacred solemnities of Mass) give the Eucharist to the people; Why (said they swelling with Look, prorestant our first Apoles said mass. a barbarous foolishness) dost thou not give us the white bread, which thou didst give to our father Saba (so they were wont to call him) and dost yet give to many of the people? If you will be washed (answered MELLITUS) in the same sacred font as your father was, you may be partakers of the holy bread as well as the but if you contemn the Bath of life, you can by no means receive the Bread of life. But they refused to enter into the font of baptism, as a thing unnecessary, but desired earnestly to eat of the sacred bread. Till at length, when the holy man's persuasions could not draw them from this s●nd request, they banished him out of their Province, because he S. Mellitus Banished from his Bishopric would not give them blessed Sacrament of altar before haptisme. Veryly I am of opinion (to my great grief) that at this present our Protestant-Bishops have so little respect to that which they call the Lords Supper, that rather than be forced with their wives to leave their bishoprics, they would give their sacrament of bread to a— so far (alas) they are fallen from the religion of our first Apostles. III. SAINT MELLITUS went to Canturbury to consult S. LAURENCE and JUSTUS the other bishops, what was to be done in these troubles. And finding no other means nor hopes of redress, MELLITUS and JUSTUS went over into France, to expect the calm of this tempestuous See in S. Lau. 2. Febr. motion. Till Edbald King of Kent renouncing his Idolatry, and baptised by saint LAURENCE Archbishop of Carturbury, recalled the two bishops out of France, and restored JUSTUS to his seat of Rochester; but the Londoners refused to receive their bishop Mellitus, over whom Edbald had not such absolute and coercitive power, that he could force them to it, as his father could. In the mean time, Saint LAURENCE departing this life, MELLITUS succeeded in the sea of Canturbury, whence he cast forth the bright beams of his virtue, faith, and learning over all England, with which noble ornaments he greatly ennobled the country, and He is made Archbishop of Canturbury. excelled the nobility of his birth and parcentage, which was very honourable. In body he was wonderful weak, and sickly, specially being grievously afflicted with the gout: but most sound in mind, cheerfully despising all terrene things, and still aspiring to the love, and possession of the Kingdom of heaven. And here I will relate one example of his excellent virtue, and confidence in almighty God, which may serve as a witness of his other noble virtues. iv A MIGHTY fire happened to make havoc in the city of Canturbury which so furiously devoured whole streets as it went, that no force of water could quench the rage of that unresistable element. And now with great violence it drew near to the place where the holy Bishop was: who would not give way to those devouring flames, but trusting in the divine goodness He quencheth a great fire by his prayers. where humane help was wanting, caused himself to be carried thither, where the fire came on with greatest violence. Which done, this weak man began with his prayers to drive that away, against which the force of many strong labouring hands could not prevail. And suddenly as if he had been the moderator, and ruler of the winds, the wind that blew out of the south and was as the bellowes of those flames, changed into the North, and so constrained that outrageous element to forsake the food which so eagerly it hunted after, and turned it back to feed on its own ruins; whereby the city was freed from the imminent peril of ruin; and the citizens, ascribed the preservation of themselves, and their fortunes to their holy Archbishop MELLITUS. who because he vehemently boiled with the fire of divine love, and was wont by his often prayers and exhortations to drive away the storms of the airy powers from hurting him and his, he was found worthy, to whom God gave power to prevail against the forces of the fires, and winds of this world. At length, when this Blessed Archbishop (whom Trithemius a grave author in his work of the famous men of saint benedict's order, calls, a man of most holy life, a lib. 3. cap. 56. & lib. 4. cap. 50. contemner of the world, a lover of God, the rule of all religion, and a mirror of virtue) had governed the Sea of Canturbury the space of five years, he left this mortal life to ●●ke his long desired journey to the immortal; the four and twentith day of April, in the year of our Lord, 624. He was buried in the Benedictin Monastery of saint PETER and saint PAUL in Canturbury by his predecessors. And in his Epitaph is made mention of the foresaid miracle of the fire, in these two verses, speaking to him. Laudibus aeternis te predicat urbs Dorovernis. Cui simul ardenti rest as virtute potenti. His life we have gathered chief out of saint Bede the gest. Ang. lib. 1. cap. 29. & lib. 2. cap. 3. 4. & sequ. Ealred, abbot of Rhienall, Baronius tom. 8. Malmesbury de pont l. 2. the Roman Martirologe, Nicholas Harpsfield see 7. cap. 7. Vsuard, Ado, Arnold wion, and others make honourable mention of hi●●. The life of S. EGBERT Priest, and monk of the holy order of saint BENEDICT, APR. 24. Out of Venerable Bede. THE admirable master of humility, and most zealous advancer of Christ's Gospel saint EGBERT, borne of a noble race of English parents in the south parts of England, spent the flower of his youth in the monastery of Lindisfarne, or Holy-Iland. In which school of virtue he received the first grounds of true religion under the holy Rule of saint BENEDICT, which afterwards he communicated to other places, to the great honour, and increase of the Benedictin order. It was the manner in those days of many of our English, to go over into Ireland, there to apply themselves in a more strict course of holy meditation, watching, fasting, and prayer, and other exercises of a monastical life. Amongst the rest, holy EGBERT forsaking friends and country, went thither, with a fervent desire to piety, accompanied He goeth into Ireland. with an other noble Englishman called Ethelune. And huing together in Jreland, in a monastery called in Irish Rathmelfigi, they were both infected with the plague, which at that time mustered whole troops of people under the black banner of death. When holy EGBERT expecting nothing but to be enroled in the same number of death's servants, went one morning out of that mournful lodging where the sick monks lay expecting their end, into a secret and solitary place, where sitting down to entertain himself with his own throughts, he began to cast up a strict account of his former life, wherein he found many Items whose remembrance begot such contrition in his heart, that the tears trickling down his cheeks were worthy witnesses to prove it excellent. Then in the heat of true devotion he humbly besought almighty His petition to Allmigh tie God. God to grant him a little longer respite in this world, as well to bewail the sins of his youth, as allsoe more abundantly to exercise himself in the works of religious perfection: vowing withal never more to return into his native country of England, but to live a pilgrim all the days of his life. Moreover, besides his canonical office he was wont (if sickness did not hinder him) He daily recited David's Psalter. to recite every day the whole psaker of David in honour of almighty God, and to fast one whole day and a night every week, without any food at all. But when his prayers had set a period to his tears, and his vows to his prayers, he returned back to his lodging, where he found his fellow Edelhune (that laboured with the same disease) fast asleep, and he himself laid down his feeble limbs to recreate them a while with rest. But long he had not reposed, when his companion awaked and looking pitifully upon him; O brother Egbert (said he) what hast thou done? I had hoped we should have gone joyfully together to the Kingdom of heaven; but now by thy desire we must be separated, for know that thy request is granted. It had been revealed unto him in a vision what EGBERTS request was, and that he had had a grant there of from God. II. THE night following Edelhune died happily, and EGBERT by a He is miraculously cured of the plague. special favour of divine grace recovering his health, afterwards adorned his monastical vocation with the dignity of priesthood, and ennobled that dignity with worthy actions of virtue, and good life. Always governing himself with the rules of perfect humility, sweet meekness, pure continency, plain simplicitte, & candid innocence. His example of life, his labour in teaching, his authority i● reprehending, and his liberality in bestowing what the charity of the rich gave him, was of wonderful great profit, and edification to all the country, where he lived in voluntary banishment. And His rigid fasting. to increase the austerity of his own life he added to the vows aforesaid to make but one small meal a day throughout all the Lent, which was a little bread, and a poor quantity of thin●e milk, which he did eat cold after it had stood a whole night, and when the cream or fatter substance thereof was skimmed off. This manner of fasting he observed like wise forty days before Christmas, and as many more after Whitsuntide. Upon these well settled foundations, and grounds of holiness, in a short time saint EGBERT raised a spiritual building of virtues to the very height of monastical perfection, so that the same of his sanctity was blown into the royal ears of Kings, of whom some much admired and honoured the man, others that contemned his pious admonitions felt the heavy punishment of him, that always defends the cause of his true servants: as appears by that which venerable BEDE recounts of Egfrid King of the Northumber's. Who in the year of CHRIST. 684. having sent an De gest. Angl. 4 cap. 26. army into Jreland which lamentably destroyed that innocent country, was dissuaded from that bloody enterprise by the means and entreaties of saint EGBERT, but contemning to yield to his pious admotions, he received his punishment, being miserably slain the year following, among his fatal enemies the Picts. III. BUT this holy man, having spent many years in a He resolveth to preach in Germany. rigorous monastical life, being desirous to labour not only for himself, but for the good of many other souls, resolved to preach the faith of CHRIST to those that lived in the blindness of Idolatry, under the bondage and slavery of the devil. Of this kind he understood many to be in Germany, whence the English or Saxons had their beginning; and therefore to them he prepared himself to announce the glad tidings of the Gospel. Or if he could reap no profit thereby, he determined to go in Pilgrimage to Rome to visit the sacred shrines of the Apostles. But in all these pious intentions he was hindered by the special providence of almighty God, who had otherwise disposed of him. For having made choice of men sufficient both in virtue and learning to accompany him in that holy enterprise, and all things being prepared for their seavoyage, saint BOISILL, in times past Abbot of the Benedictin monastery of Mailros in England, appeared to an other monk, and commanded him to bid EGBEGT to desist from that design, He is miraculously hindered from his enterprise for that it was not the will of almighty God that he should proceed therein, because he was ordained to instruct, and reform the monastery founded by Saint COLUMBE in the Isle of Hay. EGBERT advertised of this vision, commanded it to be kept close, fearing lest it was but an illusion of the devil, that endeavoured to hinder his good resolution. But considering more exactly of the matter, he felt in himself a secret fear that told him it might be true. Notwithstanding, he ceased not to further his intended voyage towards Germany. But within a few day's saint BOYSILL again appeared to the same monk after matin's; and sharply reprehended him for his flacknes in fullfilling his command: And therefore now (said he) go tell EGBERT again, that will he nill he, he must go to the Monastery of saint COLUMBE, because their plough goes not strait: and he must reduce them to the right way. EGBERT hearing this second reply, again commanded the monk to keep it secret. And howbeit he were almost certain of the truth of the vision, yet such was his conceit of his foretaken resolution, and so great was his zeal to gain souls to God, that together with his fellows prepared, he adventured to begin his journey. When having expected some days at sea to have a ●ind blow with their desires, there arose one night a cruel tempest, which rudely tossed them on that floating element, till with the loss of some part of their lading, they were forced to return, and desist from that adventure. But whatsoever belonged to saint EGBERT and his fellows was saved. And he (as it were alluding to that saying of the holy Prophet Ionas, because for my sake this tempest happeneth) withdrew himself from that voyage, and resolved to stay at home. But one of his fellows Wigbert by name (of whom we will speak the twelfth of August) went into Frisia, where having preached two years without reaping any profit, he returned back into Jreland. IV But Saint EGBERT perceaving that himself was detained from preaching the faith of CHRIST amongst the Paynims, to profit the Church other ways, and that Wigbert had spent his labour in vain amongst them, he attempted again to send a mission of virtuous and industrious men to preach the gospel in the same country. And to this end he chose out of diverse monasteries twelve learned and devout English Benedi●tin monks, the chiefest whereof was the Egbert sendeth 12. Benedictctines into Germani. worthy S. WILLIBRORD (of whom see the seaventh of November) and these he sent into lower Germany, by whose pious endeavours (as more largely shall be showed in their lives) most part of those countries were reduced out of the blindness of Idolatry to the grace of CHRIST'S Gospel. And some of these apostolical men (which greatly redounds to the praise of Saint EGBERT) were his scholars, bred, and brought up to that eminent calling, with the sweet milk of his learning, virtue, and discipline. Afterward in the year of our Lord 716. saint EGBERT following the divine oracle sent from heaven went to S. COLV●BS monastery in the Isle of Hay, on the west side of Scotland, where the monks received him with honour and reverence well becoming the worth of so holy a man. These monks erred in the observation of Easter and the Ecclesiastical He reformeth the Monks of the Island Hay. tonsure then used in the Catholic Church. But saint EGBERT being a most sweet master of all truth in virtue, and religion, and one whose actions were the execution of his own commands and lessons, was most willingly heard of them all, till by his pious adonitions & exemplar life, he drew them from the inveterate tradition of their forefathers, to observe the Catholic Easter and to wear their hair shaved in form of a crown. And at the very same time, by the means of S. EGBERT those monks received the holy rule of S. BENEDICT, which they observed ever after. He remained the space of thirteen years in the same monastery which with the beams of a new grace of the Ecclesiastical discipline, and the society, and peace of CHRIST, he had consecrated to his honour. At length, upon Easter day itself when he had celebrated the solemnities of mass, in memory of our Lords glorious resurrection, he departed out of the sepulchre, of the flesh to rise to the never dying glory of Paradise; and to see him face to face in heaven whom in the morning he had received under the forms of bread and wine in the sacrament. He died the 24. of April in the year of our Lord 729. and the nineteenth year of his age. And surely it was not without the peculiar providence of almighty God, that this venerable man not only passed out of this world on the feast of Easter, but allsoe on that feast of Easter, which never before was celebrated on that day, in those parts. Whereupon the monks rejoiced that they were come to the knowledge of the certain and Catholic observance of Easter, and that they had gained the patronage of their father in heaven, by whose industry they were first instructed therein. This life we have gathered wholly out of S. Bede de gest. l. 3. & 5. john Capgrave hath the same: besides whom Trithemius in his work of the famous men of S benedict's order, Baronius, Nicolas Harpsfield. sec. 8. cap. 4. Molanus, Marcellinus in the life of S. SWIBERT, the Roman martyrologue, and others do worthily speak his praises. The life of S. ERKENWALD Bishop and Confessor of the holy Order of S. BENEDICT. APR. 30. Written by Gotzelinus Morimnensis. ABOUT the year of CHRIST 676. (saith Baronius) the English Church flourished as a Paradise of our Lord, abounding with the lilies Tom. 8 an. 676. of sacred virgins, and the violets of whole troops of holy Benedictin monks lying hid in the humble valleys of the cloisters. It was allsoe fraught with an abundance of most worthy Prelates taken from under the veil of monastical humility to be i●●ested with the Pontifical robes of dignity: among whom saint ERCONWALD (of whom we now treat) shined as a bright sun of the Benedictin family in all virtue and sanctity. And that nothing might be in him wanting for the making up of a man in all things most perfect, he was ennobled with the splendour of an illustrious parentage, being son to Offa King of the East-Angles, Who although he defiled all his princely nobility with his own perfidiousness, and impious worshipping of Idols, yet ERKENWALD as the holy branch grown out of a rotten stock, amplified, and ennobled the greatness of his race, with the true profession of Christian faith, and the advantage of many noble virtues. For being first grounded in Catholic religion in the time that S. AUGUSTIN our Apostle the Benedictin preached in England, he adhered ever after to the doctrine of S. MELLITUS Bishop of London, following his precepts and manner of life in all things. Till at length desiring to draw himself out of the vanities of this world, and wholly to enter into a contemplative life in religion, out of his own royal patrimony, he built two monasteries, one at Chertsey in Surrey, for himself and other monks, and the second at Berking in Essex, for his sister S. Ethelburg with a convent of Nuns, both of the holy order of S. BENEDICT. And so he made a happy change of his terrene dignity and wealth, to become the holy inheritance of CHRIST and his Church. At Chertsey he put on the habit of a Benedictin monk, where his virtues so answered that monastical profession, that Theodore Archbishop of Canturbury moved with the fame thereof, called ●rconwald made bishop of London. him to preside in the bishopric of London. This Benedictin Abbey of Chertsey greatly flourished in religion, till the fury of the Danes (who spared no religious houses) committed the Church, with the Abbot and monks thereof, to the merciless power of the fire. But the incomparable prince King Edgar (whom the peculiar providence of almighty God ordained the great advancer of the Benedictin order) not content with the new monasteries which by himself and others he caused to be built in divers parts of England, unless he repaired the old: restored the Abbey of Chertsey to its former splendour, and dignity, searching out the ancient writings, and Charters, by the testimony and power whereof, he recalled the goods and possessions that thereunto belonged, out of the hands of many noblemen, which either by force, or the power of antiquity, had holden them as their own rights. II. BUT let us return to saint ERKENWALD, who now seated in the Episcopal sea of London, so worthily discharged himself of that function, that he omitted nothing belonging to the duty and praise of an absolute good pastor: being a man of so great virtue, that his working of many miracles (the unresistable witnesses of holiness) deposed him and his service to be most acceptable and pleasing to allmigtie God. Being fallen so Note a strange miracle. sick and weak towards the end of his days that he could not visit his diocese to preach and teach to the people, but carried in a little waggon, one of the wheels (and it had but two) it is uncertain by what chance, happened to fall off the beam, when to the wonderful great admiration of all the assistants, the waggon went on upon one wheel, the other side being sustained (by the divine power of him that wheels about the frame of this world) for the declaration of the great virtue and holiness of the holy bishop that was carried. And herein the air seemed to attend this holy man, supplying the want of that wheel; and by the touching of the same waggon, many sick persons (after the holy man's death) were cured of fevers and other diseases which human skill had given up for incurable. The water allsoe obeyed A great river gives way to his passage. him, when in the same waggon being to pass through a most swift river, too deep for his humble coach to wade in, the curresie of those streams was so great, that they stopped the violence of their own furious haste, and expected till the saint (like an other Josue) passed through on the dry bottom: and then the river (which all this while had made (as it were) a collection, or uniting of its own forces, more loudly to proclaim and roar out the praises of the virtue and holiness of the glorious Bishop Saint ERKENWALD) ran in his accustomed and wont manner. The hour of his death re●ealed. III. AT LENGTH, when he had governed his bishopric for the space of many years in the continual exercise of virtue and holy life, the blessed man going for his devotion to the monastery of Berking, and staying there some time in the continual exercise of divine contemplation; it pleased almighty God to reveal unto him the hour of his departure, which he truly foretold, and to the last gasp, comforted all that were about him, with the words of life, that flowed from his dying voice. And at the very instant that his blessed sold left her house of clay and misery, to fly to the glorious dwellings of the happy, so sweet an odour filled the whole house where the body lay that the hearts of all the assistants were wonderfully stirred up in the praise of almighty God and devotion towards this holy saint. The news of his death being spread abroad, the Clergy and His body is translated to London. people of London came to Barking to fetch thence the sacred relics of their bishop, to bury them solemnly in saint PAUL'S Church. But coming with their holy loading to a river called Hesord, they found the waters increased and swelled to such greatness, that they were fain to lay down their sacred treasure, and fall to their prayers to obtain passage by the merits of the glorious saint, which otherwise was impossible without a boat. When behold to their great admiration and comfort, the water which in his life time had given A strange miracle. him free passage, now allsoe divided itself into two parts, that (like unto the Israelites loaden with the Ark of our Lord) they passed dry foot through the midst of the river. And that no sooner done, but an other miracle followed, for the candles by his body, which had been extinguished were suddenly lighted without man's help, by a light from heaven. So that two elements at once gave a double testimony of his great virtue and sanctity. And as in his life he was replenished with many wonderful spiritual graces and virtues so at his death as many sick as touched the bier whereon his body lay received perfect health and were cured of all diseases. His body was buried in saint PAUL'S Church at London, by the high altar, where it lay many years covered with a pall of very He is buried in S. Paul's of London. mean value. But almighty God decsared an length by a wonderful miracle that the relics of this glorious Saint deserved greater honour and reverence. For during the reign of William Conqueror in the year of our Lord 1087. a most cruel fire said hold on the city of London by night, which consumed all before it, from the west gate to the East, at which horrid spectacle the citizens greatly affrighted, were glad to save their own lines by flight some of them leaving their cuill-gott goods to the mercy of those London fired. merciless flames; which having entered the Cathedral Church of saint PAUL, and so entered, that there was no hope to dispossess those outrageous guests; the people were stricken with greater grief with the thought of losing the sacred relics of so great a Patron, then with the sight of their own harms. But almighty God was zealous and careful of the glory of his Saint; For when His tomb miraculously preserved from fire. the Church was wholly in flames when the lead poured down on all sides, when whole beams of fire came tumbling to the earth, amidst all this doleful wrack of ruin, where the conquest was the death of the conqueror, the sacred tomb of saint ERKENWALD, albeit of dry wood apt to take fire remained most free and untouched. And which is more, the cloth that covered it (when the two Bishops of London and Wincester, came to be eye-witnesses of this miracle) was found most pure without any hurt; where the piercing force of the melted lead, and eating fire, was of no force against the virtue and merits of this worthy saint. O wonderful sight whatsoever was in the Church within the power of fire, was turned to ashes, and yet in the midst of all, the pall of his sepulchre was not one thread the worse, either in matter, or colour. The people flock thither in troops to be witnesses of that straying spectacle, giving many thanks to almighty God for his goodness; when the novelty of this miracle banished out of their minds all thought of their own misfortune received. Mauritius then bishop Mauritius Bishop of London. of London laid the foundation of the mighty Church of S. PAUL now extant, which by his successors was brought to that wonder of perfection in which now it is. And six and thirty years ago (as I have learned from faithful witnesses that saw it) there was in the upper end of the Choir in Paul's Church, a table which testified where the holy body of S. ERKENWALD lay, in these words; Under here lieth the body of S. ERKENWALD fourth Bishop of London. Many other miracles were wrought by the merits of this glorious saint which here we omit. He died about the year of our Lord 690. His life is written by Gotzelinus Morimnensis, saint Bede William Malmesburie de Pont. lib. 2. john Capgrave, Nicolas Harpsfield saec. 7. cap. 13. and others, out of whom and the records of saint Paul's Church we have taken this history. Polidore Virgil, Trithemius amougst the Saints of S. benedict's order, Baronius, Matthew Paris, the Roman Martirologe and all our English writers do highly speak his praises. The end of April. The life of Saint ASAPH Bishop and Confessor. MAY 1. SAINT ASAPH borne in that part of great Britain now called His country, and youth. North-wales, was from his youth brought up under the government, and discipline of great saint KENTIGERNE in the monastery of Ell in Flintshire, where amongst nine hundred and three score other monks his fellow-schollers, he s●ined in all manner of virtue, and bore the prize of obedience, and sanctity from them all. He descended from a noble race, and seemed to have the roots of virtue engrafted in his soul from the cradle, which, by his diligent and careful managing, brought forth a worthy baruest of pious fruits at their time. He put forth himself in nothing so much a sin labouring to make his own conversation, and manner of life conformable to the austere pattern of virtue and mortification, which appeared in his holy Master saint KENTIGERNL. To whom his obedience was such, that it deserved to be witnessed for excellent, by miracle. For saint KENTIGERNE coming one night out of the cold water, in which (as his custom was) he had recited the whole psalter of David, and being so extremely frozen, that he was almost quite deprived of heat the necessary companion of life, he The straying virtue of prompt obedience. sent his holy disciple ASAPH for fire, to recover the forces of his decaying body. He (that had no lesson so perfect as obedience) ran hastily to the fiery oven, and finding no other instrument to carry his fire, took the hit scorching coals into his lap, and without any sign of burning in his coat, brought them to his master: who admiring so great virtue in his scholar, held him in great estimation ever after, and committed to his charge the whole regiment of the monastery, and made him his successor in the Bishopric of Ell, now called S. ASAPHS, retaining always the name, but fare wide of the virtues, and faith of saint ASAPH. Who when he had governed his sea for the space of many years in great sanctity and miraculous works, in venerable old age he gave up his blessed soul to receive the crown of everlasting life, the first day of May, about the year of our Lord 569. whose name to this day is very famous throughout Wales in the mouths of all truehearted Welshmen; to the great confusion of our Protestant-Heroticks, who are not ashamed to honour the saints by calling their Churches by their names to whom in catholic times they were dedicated, and in their confession of faith to deny any honour at all to be due unto them, contrary to the general doctrine of the Catholic Church, and all ancient fathers. Thus much we have gathered out of Molanus in his additions to Vsuard, Arnold Wion, john Capgrave, and others. The Roman martirologe this first of May makes mention of S. Asaph. The life of S. EADBERT Bishop and Confessor, of the holy order of saint BENEDICT. MAY. 6. Out of Venerable Bede hist. de gest. Ang. lib. 4. EADBERT surnamed the Almoner a man as excellent in learning & the knowledge of divine scriptures, as in the observance of Ecclesiastical and monastical precepts, and most excellent in the virtue of giving alms, was raised from the humility of a Benedictine monk in the monastery of Lindisfarne, to succeed that glorious ornament He is made bishop of Lindisfarne. of the Benedictine family Great S. CUTHBERT in the government of the same Episcopal sea. In which dignity he most worthily discharged the office of a good prelate, exactly observing withal the rigour and severity of monastical discipline. He was wont to spend the whole time of lent, and forty days before the nativity of our Lord, in a secret place separated from his Church, where he exercised himself in the continual practice of prayer, contemplation, and bitter penance, with all other religious virtues. And this was the same place in which his excellent predecessor S. CUTHBERT, had for a time led a solitary life, before he went to the Island of Farne. The eleventh year after the deposition of the never-enough named S. CUTHBERT, when the monks of Lindissarne opening His death and burial his grave, had found his body uncorrupted (as is said in his life the twentith of March) they brought part of his to saint EADBERT, then living in his solitary place of devotion which he both received very gratefully, and reverenced with wonderful affection. And (said he) let that sacred body be wrapped in new in steed of those you have taken off, and place it honourably in the shrine which you have prepared; for most certainly I know, that the grave which his holy relics have consecrated with such admirable miracles, will not long be empty of an inhabitant. And how happy is that man, to whom our Lord the Author, and bestower of all happiness, shall voutchase to make worthy to rest therein. These and such like words the holy bishop uttered with a trembling tongue, whilst the tears that trickled down his cheeks witnessed the feeling compunction of his heart. The monks presently performed his command, and placed the sacred body of S. CUTHBERT in a chest over the sepulchre, wherein he had been buried. In the mean time, the beloved servant of God S. EADBERT desiring of almighty God, that for better satisfaction of his former life he might pass out of this world through His death and burial. the parching furnace of a long-during sickness, fell into a most grievous disease, which increased daily more and more, for the space of more than a month; when the vehemency was so great, that it forced his blessed soul to leave her mortal lodging, to make a happy flight to the immortal habitation of happiness: the sixth day of May. And out of the prerogative of his great sanctity he was judged worthy to be buried in the grave which his predecessor S. CUTHBERT had consecrated eleven years with his incorrupted body; and so alive he became S. CUTHBERTS' successor in the episcopal Sea, and in his sepulchre being dead. Where Venerable BEDE affirmeth, that he shined with same of working many miracles. But whether they were wrought by his merits, or saint CUTHBERTS', whose body was placed in a chest over the same grave, it can be judged by none but him, who searcheth the hearts, and reines of all men; whose name be for ever blessed. He died in the year of our Psal. 9 Lord 698. Besides S. BEDE whom we have followed, William Malmesbury, Molanus, Nicholas Harpsfield, and the Roman martirologe 〈◊〉 honourable mention of S. EADBERT, The life of S. JOHN of Beverley Bishop and Confessor, of the holy order of S. BENEDICT. MARTINO 7. Out of Venerable Bede hist. de gest. Ang. lib. 5. c. 2. & 〈◊〉 SAINT JOHN surnamed of Beverley borne of noble English parents in the north parts of great Britain, was sent in his youth to Canturbury to be instructed by the two Oracles of Learning and virtue S. THEODORE the Archbishop, and S. ADRIAN Abbott of the Benedictine Abbey of S. PETER, in the same city. In this holy school of virtue, and learning, JOHN not only profitted in the knowledge of holy scripture, and good manners, but allsoe was kindled with a desire to embrace the same monastical rule of S. BENEDICT which his masters professed. And to this end, having sound perfected his understanding with learning, he departed to His Inclination to a religious life. the Benedictine Abbey of Streanshall, where putting on the habit, and profession of a Monk, he both exercised himself in the perfection of monastical discipline, and greatly promoted the observance of S. benedict's rule which great S. WILFRID had introduced into the same monastery. Moreover, the worth of his learning is worthy witnessed by the excellency of his scholars, amongst whom were S. BRITHUNE afterwards Abbot of Beverley, S. WILFRID the Lesser, that succeeded him in the Archbishopric of York, both Benedictine monks, and above all, the glory and ornament of his Country and the Benedictine order, Venerable BEDE; all which with others saint JOHN not only instructed in divine and humane knowledge, and incited to piety with his godly admonitions, but also inflamed them much more with the example of his own life and virtue, to undertake the high journey of religious perfection. He bore a singular affection to S. BEDE, whom when he was bishop he advanced to the dignity of deaconship, and priesthood. Alfred King of the Northumber's moved with the fame He is made Bishop of Hagustald. of this holy man's sanctity, made him successor to Eata in the Episcopal sea of Hagustald, otherwise called Hexham. But after the death of Bosa he was translated to the archiepiscopal chair of York. In which sacred function he performed his duty with g●e● praise and admiration of all. When all the minds and eyes of England were fixed wholly upon him, both for his excellent virtue and equally rare learning, as allsoe for his wonderful, and miraculous deeds, which worthily witnessed the piety of his life and conversation. II. BUT during the time of his regency in the Church of Hagustald, or Hexham, at a place somewhat more than a mile distant from His retired life in Lent. thence in a chapel dedicated to S. MICHAEL, he went often times and specially in time of Lent, to lead a solitary and contemplative life separated from the affairs of the world, attending only to things divine and heavenly. Beginning this holy exercise on a time, he conmaunded his companions (as his custom was) to seek him out some poor creature more miserable than ordinary, whom he might maintain there with the charity of his daily alms. They brought him a poor boy dum-borne, with a cap of scabs and scurf on the top of his head instead of hair, about which grew a thin hedge of frighted hairs; the sight whereof begot an horror in the behoulders. The holy bishop (much rejoiced that he had found so fit a subject upon whom to exercise his accustomed office of charity) caused presently a little lodging to be built within the precinct of his own habitation; where that wretched poverty was daily refreshed with the stipend of his piety. But the first week of Lent See the virtue of the sign of the Cross. being past, he commanded them to bring the poor man before him, & making the sign of the holy cross upon his tongue, he received not only the perfect use of his speech, but also was cured of the scabby scuruines in his head. So that he that before bore the shape or dumb-shew of deformity, was suddenly become ready in his speech, acquaint and fair in his countenance and curled locks, and glad to hear himself play the crier of his own happiness. III. ALSOE with his benediction he cured a Nun of a great swelling Many miracles. & cruel pain in her arm, caught by letting blood. And being by an Earl (whose countess lay languishing in a mortal disease) invited to consecrate a Church, he sent her of the holy water which he had used in that act of consecration, and she no sooner drunk thereof, but presently rising sound out of her bed, she came (like S. PETER'S mother-in-law cured by our Saviour) and waited on them Luc. 4. at the table, showing thereby, that she had not only recovered her health, but her lost forces allsoe. The like benefit he shown to a young man, of whose health his friends were so hopeless, that his grave was already prepared; when contrary to all expectation, by the prayers & benediction of the holy bishop, and drinking a cup of wine by him hallowed, he was restored again to perfect health. But one Herebald who sometime had been his scholar received a fare greater benefit at his hands, being by his means preserved from the ruin both of body and soul; as himself being afterwards Abbot of Tinemouth) related to venerable Bede in this manner. When in my youth I lived under the tutorship of the B. bishop JOHN Note this miraculous history. to betrayned up in the studies of Ecclesiastical discipline & learning, my mind being at that time carried away with the wild & untamed sports of an youthly ardour; we happened being one day in a journey with the holy man, to come into a fair plain and large way, which seemed to invite us to runne a course with our horses. And the secular young men of the company began earnestly to entreat the Bishops leave to have a course; whereunto he was loath to consent, till overcome with their importunity, he yielded to their request, but The punishment of disobedience to S. john. upon condition that Herebald should abstain from that sport. But then I begun earnestly to plead my own cause, that I might try my horse with the rest, knowing him to be of very good speed; but could by no means prevail to get his consent. Whereupon being no longer able to contain my untamed desires within the limits of obedience, I set spurs to my horse and ran amongst the rest; when I could hear him behind me fetch a great sigh & say: O what a grief thou givest me in so riding? Notwithstanding I held on that forbidden course, till leaping over a hollow place I caught a fall which left me as dead without any sense or motion, a just punishment of my disobedience. From seven of clock till the evening I lay there for dead, and then reviving a little, my companions carried me home, where I passed that night without speaking one word. But the holy bishop, who bore a singular affection to me, grieved exceedingly at this mischance, and that whole night he spent only in watching and prayer for my recovery. In the morning he came to me, and out of a divine instinct, asked if I were certain of my baptism; to whom, having now recovered my speech, I answered, yes; and named the Priest that had washed me in the sacred Font. If that were the Priest that did it (replied he) thou art not rightly baptised: For he is both of wit and understanding so dull, that he could never learn the true manner of catechising or baptising, and for that reason I have commanded him to cease from the exercise of that function, which See the ancient ceremonies of baptism. he could not execute in due manner. This said, he began presently to catechise me: and it happened that breathing in my face (as the manner is) I strait began to find myself much amended of my hurt. He caused the Chirurgean to settle and compose aright the dissolved joint of my skull, and having given his benediction to the work, at the same instant I recovered foe well, that the next day I was able to ride an other journey with him, by whose merits I was restored to health. And within a while after, being fully recovered, I received the sacrament of baptism; so that I am indebted the salvation both of soul and body to Blessed Saint JOHN. Thus was Herebald wont to relate of himself to Venerable BEDE. iv But S. JOHN having governed his bishopric the space of S. john. leaveth the Bishopric thirty three years, between Hagustald and York, desiring now after so many labours, to retire his unserviceable old age out of the manifold affairs of the world, to the sweet and quiet harbour of his ancient religious life, the better to prepare himself for his neere-approaching end, he departed to the Benedictin monastery which himself had built at Deirwood, or Beverley, where amongst the monks he led a holy and angelical life the space of four years, famous for virtues and miracles. At length loade● with merits and good works, he was called out of this mortal life, to the happy enjoying of the immortal; the seaventh day of May, in the year of our Lord God seven hundred twenty one. Which place, and the memory of this glorious Saint was afterwards ennobled with so many wonders, that scarce any place in England is comparable unto it, for the familiarity of miracles, or enlarged with greater privileges and exemptions from Princes. One therefore, and not the left of those signs Bull● strangely tamed. which commend the piety of saint JOHN, and the sanctity of this place, is that straying spectacle which was wont often times there to be exhibited. Bulls, otherwise most fierce and untamed, being with great pains and sweat brought bound to the Churchyard of Beverley, as soon as they entered therein, deposed all their fierceness, that they seemed rather to be meek lambs then mad, and unruly bulls. All●oe in the year of our Lord one thousand three hundred and twelve, on the feast of saint BERNARD, a wonderful oil issued miraculously out of his sepulchre for the space of a whole day, which was very medecinall and sovereign against many diseases. V KING ETHELSTAN● being much molested by the frequent incursions Ethelstan● molested by the Scots. of the Scots, gathered an army together and went to Beverley, where falling on his knees at the tomb of this Blessed Saint, he humbly recommended himself and his cause to his sacred protection. And having ended his prayer he drew out his knife and laid it on the altar saying: Behold (most glorious Saint) I put this for a pledge before thee, that if by thy merits I return victorious of mine enemies. I will enrich thy Church with ample gifts and revenues. Then causing a banner of that Church to be carried before him, he marched courageously against the Scots, who hearing of his coming fled over into Scotland, and there expected him. Ethelstane having fixed his tents on the other side of the river Ethelstane victorious by the merits of S. john. S. JOHN appeared to him, and bade him go over courageously, and assault his enemies. Which the next morning he performed, and in that conflict many of the Scots were slain, and their whole army discomfited. Then King Ethelstane having humbly desired of saint JOHN to have some sign which might serve as a perpetual testimony of the King of England's prerogative over the Scots, he struck his sword into a hard rock near Dunbar castle, where for many ages after remained a mark the length of a yard made hollow in the same stone, with the blow. And for proof hereof we have, that king Edward the first (when there was question before Pope Boniface of his right and prerogative over Scotland) brought this history for the maintenance and strength of his cause. VI KING ETHELSTANE having obtained the foresaid Beverley a sanctuary victory honoured saint JOHN ever after as his peculiar Patron and Guardian: and ennobled the Church of Beverley with many great freedoms, granting unto it the right of sanctuary, to be a safe refuge for all criminal, and suspected persons of what offence soever. Many other famous miracles (here omitted) have been done by the merits of this glorious Bishop▪ all which moved Alfrick the seaventeenth Bishop of York after him, Translation of S. john. to take up his holy relics, three hundred and sixteen years after his death, and place them in a precious and rich shrine the five and twenty day of October, which is the feast of his translation; on which very day in the year of our Lord one thousand four hundred and fifteen the most invincible King of England Henry the fift of that name, won the memorable battle of Agi●court against the French, Which the King ascribing to the merits of the most blessed Bishop saint JOHN, at his triumphant return into England, caused the feasts both of his deposition and translation to be solemnly celebrated throughout the Province of Canturbury, as it was already in that York▪ And in the Provincial Tit. de script. Constitutions of England made in a Provincial Synod under Henry Chicheley Archbishop of Canturbury, is found a decree hereof, made at the instance of the same most Christian King Henry the fift. Whereby it appears that this most holy Bishop saint JOHN of Beverley hath been an aid to the Kings of England in the necessity of their wars, not only in ancient, but allsoe in these later ages. God of his infinite Mercy make us partakers of his glorious merits. His life we have gathered out of Venerable Bede de gest. Aug. lib. 5. cap. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. William Malmesbury de gest. Pontif. Aug. lib. 3. Matthew Westminster anno. 680. 686. 721. Nicholas Harpsfield saec. 8. cap. 22. Thrithemius of the famous men of saint benedict's order lib. 3. cap. 129. lib. 4. cap. 68 and 170. and john Capgràue or joannes Anglicus. The Rom●● Martirologe, Polidore Virgil, Vsuard, Arnold Wion, Camden, and all our English writers do worthily celebrate his praises. The life of Saint WYRE Bishop and Confessor, of the holy order of Saint BENEDICT. MAY. 8. Out of an ancient manuscript recited by Su rins. SAINT WYRE borne of worthy parents in Scotland having passed his infancy was set to school, when being prevented by the inspiration of an heavenly grace, he began in his tender His virtues and exercises. age to bear the years of a man both in mind and manners, proposing to himself the examples of his elders to be the rule and guide of his youthly actions. In the mean time he increased in years, but more in mind, never yielding to any vain allurements nor drawing back his foot once set forward in the steps of virtue; contemning all transitory and worldly things, aspiring with all the forces of his soul to the love of the eternal; so that his holiness of life increasing daily with his years, he became grateful and beloved both to God and man. He was nether broken with adversities, nor exalted with prosperity, never tired with watchings; Herefuseth a bishopric prayers were his food, and fasting his delights, in sum nothing could move him from the desire and pursuit of virtue. Not long after whilst thus he shined to the world in all kind of true religion, and holiness of life, the Church of that country was void of a pastor, when all with one voice desired WIRE for their bishop; him the clergy, him the people, him all the world proclaimed to be a man sent from heaven to govern his native country with episcopal dignity. But the holy man being quite of an other mind, fare from desiring to climb the slippery degrees of fading honours, lay close under the wings of humility, and utterly refused to accept any such charge: affirming that he had more need himself of a Master, then to become a teacher and ruler of others. II. AT length overcome with much opportunity of the people, he yielded to go to Rome to be consecrated, rejoicing for so good an occasion to perform that so desired pilgrimage. And thither he went not out of an ambition of worldly dignity, but of a desire he long had had to undertake that journey of devotion. Being come to Rome together with saint PLECHELME a venerable priest, and monk, and Otgerus a deacon, they all three visited with great devotion the sacred shrines of the Apostles, watering the pavements with the holy balm of their devout tears. The Pope understanding of them, sent presently for saint WYRE, who together with The Pope compels him to be bishop. his fellows came before him, where he was received with wonderful great joy and familiarity. When saint WYRE having first plainly told the cause of his coming, fell prostrate at the Pope's feet, humbly craving to be freed from the charge of the Bishopric. But the Pope nothing moved with his prayers, chose rather to provide God's people with a holy prelate, then to hearken to saint WIRES private devotions; and therefore he ordered him Bishop much against his will, and sent him back into the country with a strict command to cease from undertaking any pilgrimage before he returned to his people. Whose precept the holy man obeyed, and returned strait over the frozen Al●es, and swelling waves of the sea, to come again into his country, where he was received His return from Rome with great joy, honour and solemnity. Then it was wonderful to see how he shined in all virtue, religion, and piety amongst his subjects, making always his own lif● correspondent to the doctrine, he preached unto others. And although then he, none could better discharge the office of that high calling with all parts belonging to a good bishop, yet in his mind there remained always a pious desire to go in pilgrimage; which his intention albeit hidden from man's knowledge, yet to God it was most known, whose divine goodness shown him the favour at length to attain the end of his wished desires. III. FOR finding a fit opportunity, he left his bishopric, and He forsaketh his bishopric together with his ancient companions Plechelme and Otgerus, he traveled into France, choosing rather to lead a poor and humble life amongst straingers, then to live in pomp and glory in his own country. But the more he sought to fly the glory and honours of the world, the more they followed him; for in France, King Pepin hearing of his great sanctity, received him and his fellows with He is honourably entert ayned by King Pepin. wonderful joy and honour; And having understood of their desire to a private manner of life, he gave them a place proper for that purpose called Peter-mount, in the Diocese of Liege near Ruremond, where was built a chapel dedicated to the B. Virgin MARY, and a famous monastery of saint benedict's order in honour of the Prince of the Apostles saint PETER. In this place saint WYRE, finding himself seated according to his own desire, began again to enter into the course of a monastical life under the holy rule of S. BENEDICT, which long since he had professed in England amongst His holy exercises. the English monks: setting forth himself and his fellows as lively patterns of religion and virtue to be imitated. CHRIST only was the end of all his actions; his tongue spoke nothing but CHRIST, his heart was acquainted with no other thought but of CHRIST, for whose love he daily sacrificed himself to his service in watchings prayers, fasting, and all other mortifications and virtues belonging to a true religious and monastical life: Shining to the country both in learming, & holy conversation. And being adorned with many virtues, in body he lived on earth, but in mind he was wholly conversant in the divine contemplation of heaven. In fine, it were too long worthily to rehearse all the virtues of this holy man. IV IN THE mean time King Pepin held him in so great veneration, that to him only as the spiritual guide of his soul, and the King Pippins humility in confession. patron of his life he was wont to confess and reveal the sins and deformities of his soul. Nether was this good Prince ashamed to go barefooted to confession unto him, and humbly to submit himself to the arbitrement of his will, so highly he esteemed his sanctity. Moreover, he often made use of the mature counsel of this holy man in the managing of the chiefest and weightiest affairs of his Kingdom. At length Saint WYRE began to perceive the near approach of death, by the feeling of his two harbingers old age and sickness, that came upon him. When decreasing daily in strength he still increased in virtue courageously expecting that blessed minute which should set free his soul to fly to the eternal reward of his merits: till by the violence of an ague, he changed the fall of his mortal body with the rising of an mmortall life, and gave up his holy spirit into the hands of his dear redeemer; the eight day of May, about the year of our Lord 763. His body was honourably buried in the foresaid chapel of the B. Virgin, were many miracles are wrought through the merits of this glorious Saint. His body, or the greatest part thereof was afterwards translated to Ma●stricht, in Germany into the Cathedral Church of that city, where it is kept with great veneration of the inhabitants, and his feast celebrated with an office of a double. His life we have gathered out of the author thereof recited by Surius, tom. 5. and Molanus in indic. Saint. Belgii. The Roman martyrologue this day, Baronius tom. 8. anno 631. Trithemius of the famous men of S. benedict's order lib. 3. cap. 63. Arnold. Wion lib. 2. cap. 53. Vsuard, and m●nie others do make a●ple mention of S. WIRE. The life of Saint FREMUND King and Martyr. MAY 11. Written by Burchard a Monk of the same time. FREMUND descending from a royal stock, inherited the government of the Kingdom, when his father Offa was so overthrown which old age that he was unfit to manage those affairs any longer. But FREMUND when he had reigned a year and an half, ruling his state by the balance of true iustistice, He forsaketh his kingdom he so little esteemed the vain pomp of the world, in respect of the love of heaven, that unawares of his parents, and subjects of his Kingdom, with two only in his company (whereof one was Burchard that writ his life, and lived with him while he lived) he departed to a secret and unknown Ermitage, in the Island called Ilefage, which at that time was inhabited only by devils, and wicked spirits. In this place, having built a little cottage, and an oratory in honour of the B. Virgin MARY, he spent the space of seven years, in continual watching, fasting, and prayer, daily sacrificing himself to God by the rude mortification of his body, and overcoming the rebellious passions of the mind. When the devil envying so great sanctity in saint FREMUND, with many grievous batteries of temptations sought to overthrew his godly resolution; bringing into his memory the pomp and glory of the world lie dignity which he had forsaken, and filling his mind with many thoughts of the great good which his youtfull days might have brought to his country. But he found this soldier of CHRIST so firm a rock, that all his vain assaults could neither shake nor stir him from the seat and ground of virtue: for having his heart alltogeather erected towards heaven and heavenly things, he loathed to return again to the vanities of the world once despised for the love of CHRIST; therefore well might he be wearied with the temptations of the devil, but overcome he could not be. He is sent for to defend the Country. II. IN the mean time the Danes breaking into England wasted and spoilt all with fire and sword as they went: and having martyred King EDMOND, Offa much fearing their power sent for his son Fremund home. Whom, when the messengers had most strangely found out in his poor cell at his prayers, falling down at his feet they bewailed, and declared the necessity of his friends and parents, the arrival of their enemies, the threatened ruin of the Christians, and the utter overthrow of their faith, unless by his prudence and courage the country were defended against the fury of their barbarous enemies. The champion of CHRIST much amazed at this news staggered in his resolution not knowing what course to take. Till recommending the matter to almighty God by prayer, he understood it to be his will that he should go. Therefore, armed with the shield of faith, he returned Fremund returneth to his country, courageously into his country, where for his first welcome he found his father and a great part of the Christian army slain by the Pagans. III. BUT one Oswy, who formerly had been a great friend of saint FREMUNDS father, and now had forsaken the Christian faith, cook part with the Danes, hoping (as they promised) to inherit the Kingdom of Offa: and now fearing lest by the arrival of Saint FREMUND into the country, he should be put by his hopes he came secretly unto him, and with a traitorous blow strake off his head; when the blood that issued out of that mortal wound, and fell upon the murderer, like so many drops of scorching fire, burnt his body with such an intolerable heat that presently he repent himself of his wicked deed, and fell upon his knees to demand pardon of the Martyr's dead body. Saint FREMUND was martyred the eleventh of May, in the year of our Lord 466. His holy body was buried by Oswy his murderer, and others, in a place called Offe-Church within the compass of the King's palace: But afterwards it was translated to a place between Th●●ransl●●●n of his body. Charmell and Bradmere, were (the divine prudence so disposing) it lay hid for many years unknown, till the place was revealed to a holy man, and the body taken up, and honourably buried at Redick. In the mean time many wonderful miracles were wrought, through the merits of this B. Saint in all these places. Saint FREMUND was enroled into the number of canonised Saints in the year 1257. during the reign of Henry the third. His memory heretofore hath been very famous in the Island of great Britain. His life is written by one Burchard of Dorcester a monk, and his individual companion; and b● john Capgrave out of joamnes Anglicus whom we have followed. Vsuard, Molanus, Nicholas Harpsfied saec. 9 cap. 12. and Matthew Paris an 1257. make honourable mention of him. The life of S. DIMPNA Virgin and martyr. MAY 15. Written by Peter a Canon of Cambray. WE cannot better perceive the weakness of blind love, the horrible darkness that possesseth the Gentiles deprived of the true light, nor the understanding, and strength which our Lord giveth to the feeble sex of woeman-kinde to defend their chastity, and shed their blood for his love, then in reading the life and martyrdom of this glorius Virgin saint DIMPNA. In Ireland there lived a very potent King, but a Heathen, who had married a fair woman, whom, as well in regard Her father a Pagan king. of her beauty, as her other goods parts, he dearly loved. Out of this marriage was borne a daughter called DIMPNA nothing behind her mother in beauty, whom her parents very carefully and daintily brought up: Nevertheless, as soon as she had attained to years of discretion coming to the knowledge of JESUS CHRIST, she became a Christian, and vowed perpetual virginity unto him, utterly She voweth her virginity to God. despising all the Pompes, banquets, dances, and other vanities of the Court. In the mean time, her mother being dead, her father, having dried up his superfluous tears for her death, was desirous to marry a second wife, which he would have to be a fair young maid like unto the former. But failing to find such an one in the country, his flattering courtiers persuaded him to cast his eyes upon his daughter DIMPNA, than whom, none could be fairer, and in whom (being very like her mother) he might revive the figure of his late Her father ●●keth her in marriage wife. What more? this detestable counsel no sooner arrived at his ears, but strait the devil, who desired to bring DIMPNA to Idolatry, incensed the king with the flames of an incestuous and impure love towards his daughter. Here upon he began to sound her intention, with all manner of sweet speeches, and allurements, promising to give her, her whole hearts desire, if she would but marry him. DIMPNA stopped her ears at the hissing of this venommous serpent, and answered that she would never consent to such an abominable i●nceste. The king still earnestly urged, and she as courageously resisted; till in the end, growing extremely angry, he could her, that he hold marry her whether she would or no: Then recommending herself heartyly to the dear spouse of her soul CHRIST JESUS, she answered her father, that since he was resolved thereunto, she desired forty day's respite, and to have all her rings, and royal ornaments that she wanted, to set out herself for his greater advantage. He most willingly granted her request, thinking that his daughter had changed her intention. II. IN the mean time, there was a holy priest in the country called Gerebert, who had been Confessor to the Queen, and had baptised DIMPNA, and administered the venerable Sacrament of the Altar both to her mother, and her. With him DIMPNA 〈◊〉 t, what was best to be done in this terrible case. The Priest counselled her to fly away, for fear of being forced to such a mischief; and offered himself to be her companion. So that they took shipping privately, taking but one servant and his wife in their company God permitted them to arrive at Antwerp, whence through uncouth ways they passed from village to village, fearing to be noted and followed. At length they came to a secret wood, where they cleansed a place grown over with thorns and brakes to build a lodge in, and there lived securely, and unknown. III. THE King her father overcome with joy, and ravished with content, in the impatience of love expected the desired wedding-day The king her father goes to seek her. of his daughter: but when he understood she was escaped, being already drunk with the wine of his own affection, he began presently to make war with himself, with terrible cries and exclamations of grief and fury. He resolved to go seek her himself, and to search the very bowels of the earth to find her, where soever she was hid. He traveled all his country over, and found no news of her. He passed over the seas to Antwerp where, he made some stay, whilst his servants ferretted all the country over for his daughter: when by mere accident, some of them, having lodged in a village thereabouts, paid their host with their country money, who told them that he had some money of the same kind, but knew not the value of it: These Jrishmen demanded of the host how he came by it: he answered (not imagining to what purpose they asked) that a very beautiful virgin, come out of Jreland to live in those parts, gave it him in payment for such necessaries She is found. as belonged to her maintenance: this gave them sufficient ground to suspect, and indeed to presume that it was the king's daughter they sought, therefore by the Hosts direction they went and found her, and returned with the glad news thereof to her father. iv THE king like a man raised from death to life went with all his company, and having found the holy virgin, and courteously saluted her, ravished with the beautiful beams of her fair face, he began with these sugared words to batter her pious resolution: DIMPENA my only daughter, my love, my desire, my All, what necessity moved thee so to contemn the royal dignity of thy native country, to live amongst strangers: and so to forget all filial love, as to forsake a king thy father, and follow this decrepit old Priest obeying his commandments as his daughter. Why hast thou thus despised the royal court who art the only heyresse of the Kingdom of Ireland after thy father? Be ruled therefore by my counsel, and return again into thy country with us, for if thou wilt but consent to thy father's affections, thy head shall be crowned with a royal diadem, and thou shalt have sovereignty over all the princes, matrons, and Virgins of my kingdom. Moreover I will give thee a place amongst the Goddesses, and cause a temple of white marble to be built, into which an image of thy beauty curiously wrought of gold and precious stones shall be set to be adored of all the country. To these words as the holy Virgin thought to answer, the venerable Priest Gereberne took the word out of her Gereberne reprehends the king. mouth, and very sharply rebuked the king, with the titles of most wicked and abominable wretch, in that he desired incestuously to defile his own daughter, a thing scarce ever within the thoughts of the most lascivious lechers of the world. Admonishing allsoe the then trembling Virgin not to consent to this filthy king, lest she should incur the indignation of the eternal king her spouse, whose sweetness she had already tasted. Hereat the king, and all his followers pronounced the sentence of death against Gereberne, as the author of the flight, and subversion of Dimpna. Therefore with great fury they drew him out of her sight, and with their swords cut him into pieces; whereby he Gereberne is martyred received the glorious crown of martyrdom, for the defence of justice. V THE KING having satisfied his fury on the body of this holy martyr, returned again, to his daughter, and with a pleasing countenance began again to persuade her to yield to his desire, using all the reasons and arguments in love's Logic, to win her: all which were but as so many arrows shot against a fair marble: for the holy virgin retorted them with S. Dimpna answereth her father. these words: Wherefore, thou unhappy Tyrant, dost thou endeavour with thy wily promises to pervert me from my holy purpose of chastity? Dost thou think, thou wretch, that I will betray my dear spouse CHRIST JESUS, and give up my body to be possessed by an other? Thy princely delights I contemn, desiring with my whole soul to obtain the promises of my heavenly spouse, which fare excel all other desires, and in comparison hereof, I disdain to be adored in thy country as a Goddess, therefore urge me no more with these vain frivolous speeches. Then the king's lust turned into fury, and his love into a deadly hate; the more he found the fervour of Christian religion to boil in the breast of his daughter, the more fiercely he endeavoured to pervert her. And do not think (said he) to weary and delude me with thy vain answers, either suddenly grant what I ask, or expect to feel the smart of thy father's anger, as thy impostor Gereberne hath done, who hath lost his head for the liberty of his tongue. VI WHEREFORE (replied she) most cruel tyrant, hast thou slain the beloved servant of God Gereberns, in whom thy malice could find no fault? Surely thou shalt not escape the judgement of almighty God for this foul act: thy Gods and Goddesses I detest, and wholly commit myself to the protection of JESUS CHRIST. He is my spouse, my glory, my health, and my only desire. Torture me, kill me, cut me in pieces, I am ready to suffer joyfully for his sake, all the studied cruelties thou canst imagine or invent. It was no more hate and fury, but rage and madness that now possessed the soul of that miserable king hearing these words from his daughter, whom presently he commanded to be beheaded. But all his company fearing to execute his Dimp●a martyred by her father. cruel commandment on so fair a subject; himself, quite forgetting all royal nobility and clemency, with his own hands, armed with his own sword, cut off his own daughter's head; who, (when his cruel arm bend that deadly blow against her) coursgiously implored, and recommended her soul to the divine goodness, which by that cruelly-happie separation, was received into the heavenly palace with the glory of virginity, waiting on the triumph of martyrdom. O barbarous cruelty of the father I Oglorious triumph of the virgin! The father was not ashamed to defile his hands in the blood of his daughter: and she was joyful to win by that means the possession of a never ending glory. VII. THE murderer with his followers returned into his country leaving the bodies of those holy martyrs in the fields, to be devoured with wild beasts, and fowls; but CHRIST the king and crown● of his martyrs, did not permit them to be torn whilst they lay exposed to the open air; having at length stirred up some o● the adjoining inhabitants, who moved with compassion, buried their bodies in a cave; where our Lord began strait to magnify their glory with many great miracles, which were daily done in that place. This gave occasion to the neighbours thereabouts, Miracles at her tomb. to seek those holy relics, and having digged deep in the ground, they found two tombs of pure white marble (albeit that country yields no stones but what are black and brown) and to show that it was the work of angels, the marble was so curiously wrought, that both the tombs seemed to be of the same piece, although they were separated one from the other. This miracle increased the faith and devotion of the people, that flocked thither from all parts, to obtain their health, and other favours of God, by the intercession of these holy martyrs, which were very liberally bestowed upon them. Afterwards the body of S. GEREBERNE was carried to Xaintes, and and S. DIMPNAS remained at Ghole the place of her martitdom: till after some years, the Bishop of Cam●ray accompanied with all his Clergy, and an innumerable multitude of people, translated Translation of her body. her sacred relics out of the tomb of marble into a shrine of silver, guilt, and adorned with many precious stones; the fifteenth day of May, her martyrdom was the thirtieth of the same, about the year of our Lord 600. At this time when the sepulchre was opened they found on the breast of saint DIMPNA a precious stone like a ruby, in which was written, DIMPNA VIRGIN, AND MARTYR. VIII. WHO can read this life without amazement in acknowledging the frailty and misery of a man that should fall into such Consideration on this history. extreme folly and blindness, as to seek to marry his own daughter; and that a father should bathe himself in the blood of his daughter, that resisted against such a gulf of filthiness? O what Cimerean darkness compasseth the gentils, in respect of the light that lightens the Christians! the impetuous fury of passions is easily overthrown by the force, courage, and grace the God bestoweth on his servants. He adorned this virgin with chastity, with an inspiration to dedicate it to his service; he fortified her to overcome, that which of all terrible things is the most terrible, death: in sum he honoured her with an angelical tomb, and with the triumphant trophy which she gaineth over the wicked spirits, by so many diverse miracles. Let us for ever praise the author of so great wonders. Amen. Peter a canon of S. Auberts' of Cambray writ her life, recited by Laurence Surius tome 5. which we have followed. The Roman Martirologe makes mention of her, and Cardinal Baronius in his Annotations, john Molanus in his upon Vsuard, and in his catalogue of the Saints of Belgia; and many others. The life of saint BRITHUNE Abbot and Confessor, of the holy order of saint BENEDICT. May 15. Recited by John Capgrave THE venerable Confessor of Christ BRITHUNE (whom S. BEDE calleth a most reverend man) borne of English parents, was a long time deacon to the B. Bishop saint JOHN of Beverley, unto De gest. l. 5. cap. 2. whom for his great sanctity of life, and holy conversation of manners, he was allwais dear and familiar: and at length by means of the same holy man he was made Abbot of the Benedictine Abbey of Deirwood, now called Beverley, which S. JOHN had built. S. JOHN being dead, holy BRITHUNE following the steps of his good Master, persevered as long as he lived in all purity of life, in watchings, fasting, prayer, and other monastical exercises. For he was a lover of virtues, a conqueror of vices, a contemner of this world, a desirer of the world to come, a faithful teacher of the flock committed A summary of his virtues. to his charge, an untired executor of piety and justice, a great giver of alms, and hospitality, & whatsoever he knew to be pleasing to almighty God, in that he was continually busied. Till decrepit old age having overtaken him in the service of our Lord, ending his holy life with an happy end, the fifteenth day of May, he went out of this world to enter into that which never ends. His body was buried with great honour in the same monastery, till in process, of time the many signs and miracles wrought at his tomb, moved the monks and people to translate it out of the earth, and place it in a shrine near unto that of his Master S. JOHN of Beverley, where it was kept with great veneration. Thus much of him out of joannes Anglicus recited by john Capgrave. Venerable Bede de gest. Angl. lib. 5. cap. 2. and Harpsfield hist. Eccl. saec. 8. cap. 22. make mention of him. decorative device depiction of St. Dunstan S. DUNSTANUS ARCHIEPISCOPUS CANTVARIENSIS Monachus Benedictinus. May. 19 Mart. ba●. f. The life of S. DUNSTAN Bishop and Confessor of the holy order of saint BENEDICT. MAY 19 Written by Osberne a monk of Canturbury. an. 1020. THE almighty wisdom to make the worth and greatness of this renowned Prelate (bright ornament of the English Church, and excellent Pillar of the Benedictine family His parents ) S. DUNSVAN, more famous and manifest to the world, vouchsafed miraculously to foreshow his future glory before he was borne, and to engraft in the minds of all men a wonderful expectation of him, which afterwards abundantly he repaid. His parents were gorstan and 〈◊〉, 〈◊〉 in the estimation of the world, but much more ennobled with the splendour of 〈◊〉 and 〈◊〉. His mother, whilst she 〈◊〉 DUNSTAN in her ●omb 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 at that solemn The ceremony of offering candles. feast of the Purification of the blessed Virgin 〈◊〉, when in remembrance of the true and eternal ●●ght b●●aking forth to the darkesom world by CHRIST and of the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 ●● of aged S●●●n, w● 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 hands: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 at Gl●seenbury amongst the rest ●●●● 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 a sud●●ine the 〈◊〉 mayning calm and 〈◊〉, all their lights 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. With which accident the minds of that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 being strucken with a fearful amazement, presently with a new and woderfull miracle, they were again encouraged, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 admiration, when they beheld 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 ●● 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 with light from A strange accident. heaven; from whence all the company lighted 〈◊〉: which made every own divine that the child she 〈◊〉 her wom●, would be a light to lighten the world with the 〈◊〉 of his holy life and learning: and therefore his mother was more 〈◊〉 and esteemed of all men ever after. II. TIME at length brought to light that great light of the country signified by the former, and in baptism he was called DUNSTAN, that is a Mo●●taine-stone. As soon as he had passed the The vision of his parents. years of his infancy, his parents brought him to the Church of the Benedictine Abbey of Glastenbury, and there for his good success in virtue and good life, they offered many prayers and gifts: where as they watched by night in their devotions, they understood by revelation from an Angel, that that monastery should afterwards be worthily instructed, reformed, and adorned by the learning, labour, and virtuous life of their son DUNSTAN. Being set to He falleth sick. school, he applied himself so eagerly to his studies, that he fell into a grievous sickness, which brought him even to the last gasp. Nevertheless about midnight when all despaired of his life, he was miraculously and suddenly restored to perfect health, and to the great admiration of all, he leapt out of his bed, and went into He is miraculously cured. the Church to give God thankes for his recovery. But the devil envying so great piety in the young man, endeavoured to hind●● 〈◊〉 journey, by appearing before him in the forms of a terrible ●●●panie of black enraged dogs. When DUNSTAN calling on the He vanqui●heth the devils. name of JESUS-CHRIST, armed himself with the sign of the ●●ly Cross, and with a little rod in his hand put that engine of 〈◊〉 chief to flight, and held on his way to the Church door, which he found shut: but climbing up a ladder that by chance stood reared ●● the wall, he got to the very top of the Church, whence by the hands of Angelical spirits, he was miraculously transported into it, and placed before the high Altar. On the morrow, all the doors being locked, he was found in a sweet slumber before the altar, to the great astonishment of those that the night before had followed him, and seen him fail to enter at the church door which was shut. His great humility III. NOW DUNSTAN had entered into the flower of his youth, when his goodness, piety, and wisdom increased daily with his age, carrying himself with great humility and submission towards all. And whatsoever honour, duty, or courtesy was showed unto him, He taketh the minor orders. he wholly ascribed to the grace of the doers and not to any merits or deserts of his, being most ready to serve others, and most unwilling to accept others service towards himself. In the mean time, he is persuaded by his friends to range himself into the service of the Church, and take upon him the Lesser Orders: Which willingly he did, thereby to be able more freely to, frequent the Church, to light the candles, to serve the Priest at Mass, to read and sing in the office, and do other inferior duties belonging to the divine service. All which with great devotion he performed, always despising the vain pleasures of the world, He escheweth worldly vanities avoiding the toying sports of young men, delighting in the discourses of his elders, carefully nourishing the poor, and most diligently busying himself in the works of piety, and virtue. And when at any time he was invited by his fellows in years to recreate with them in worldly vanities, he was wont to excuse himself with his employment about such and such Church-affaires, and that he must necessaryly look before hand over these and these Anthimes and Lessons that were to be sung or said in the divine service. Thus this young servant of God did both keep him self pure from the contagion of the world, and by propounding a reasonable excuse, gave scandal to none nor suggested any cause His pious exercises wherein they might offend God. His only chief study and labour was in prayer, meditation, in reading holy books: to adhere always to almighty God, to carry him ever in his mind, reloycing to find out any thing that was pleasing to his divine goodness. Whence it came to pass, that he obtained the grace both to search out divine things, and trusting in the daily consideration of God, avoided all spot of sin. So that being become near and familiar with God, he became allsoe most dear and acceptable to all that lived devoutly in God. IV IN the mean time, hearing the fame of the venerable Athelme He goeth to the Archbishop of Canturbury. Archbishop of Canturbury who was uncle, and seeing the many allurements of the world to be dangerous blocks in a youngman's way that was desirous to walk in the hard paths of virtue, having obtained the good leave of his parents, he went to Canturbury, and settled himself under the conduct of that virtuous Prelate. Athelme percaving the rich mine of virtues that lay hid in the mind of his godly. Nephew, recommended him to King He li●eth piously in the king's court. Ethelstane, to be by his royal authority and favour, protected from the adversities of the world, and advanced in the pious way of virtue. The king received him very courteously, and held him in greater esteem than many of his courtiers desired (for Envy is the ordinary fruit that grows at Court.) Then DUNSTAN, albeit he were conversant in the palace of a terrene King, yet did he nothing swerve from his exercise and resolution of true religion and virtue: but by how much he preceaved himself to walk more dangerously amongst the occasions of vice, by so much he endeavoured more strongly, and carefully to keep himself up from falling. And knowing idleness to be sworn enemy to the soul, he applied him His practical exercises. self to diverse honest practical labours, the exercise where of might keep him doing, and the diversity avoid tedious loathing, For in the art of writing, painting, engraving in wood or bone and working in gold, silver, or iron, he so excelled, that he was an admiration to many. Moreover, by his skill on musical instruments he won not only himself, but the minds of many others from the turbulent affairs of the world, to the meditation of the heavenly harmony. And for these faculties he was frequented of many, unto whom his charity was such that he would deny nothing that was demanded. But labouring once in these mechanicque arts for a devout Matron that had set him on work, Note a strange thing. his viol that hung by him on the wall, of its own accord without any man's help distinctly sounded this Anthime: Gandent in C●lis anime sanctorum, qui Christi vestigia sunt secuti: & quia pro eius amore sanguinem s●●m fuderant, ideo cum Christo gandent in eternum. Whereat all the company being much astonished, turned their eyes from beholding him working, to look on that strange accident. Amongst whom, only DUNSTAN understood the sound of those words. and what they intended: which was, that if he desired to live for ever with CHRIST, he ought not fear, when necessity urged, to shed his blood for his sake, and that his soul should not attain to the joys of heaven, unless he followed the footsteps of CHRIST our Saviour. Therefore he took this as a sensible lesson sent from God, to teach him what he was to do hereafter. V NOT long after, many of the Court that hitherunto had borne a kind of feigned friendship towards him, began now greatly He suffers in the envy of detractors to envy at his progress and rising in goodness, using many crooked back biting means to diffame his virtues with the black marks of Hypocrisy. And the better to authorize their calumny they brought in this that happened in the viol, affirming it to have been done by art magic. What more? this wicked rumour increased daily, till the King and others of the Nobility taking hold thereof, DUNSTAN grew odious in their sight. Therefore he resolved to leave the Court, and go to Elphegus surnamed the Bald than Bishop of Winchester, who was his cousin. Which his enemy's understanding, they laid wait for him in the way, and having thrown him off his horse, beat him, and draged him in the dirt The dogs defend him in most miserable manner, meaning to have slain him had not a company of mastive-dogges, that came unlooked for upon them, defended and redeemed him from their cruelty. When with sorrow he was ashamed to see dogs more humane than they. And giving thankes to almighty God, he sensibly again perceived that the tunes of his viol had given him a warning of future accidents. The neighbours running to the noise, took him out of the mire, and brought him to a convenient lodging. VI HENCE he went to the foresaid Bishop of Winchester, who discoursing with him of the perfection of a Monastical life, easily persuaded DUNSTAN (already greatly inclined to a course He taketh the habit of S. Benedict of virtue and piety) to forsake the state of marriage which he intended, and wholly to dedicate himself to an Ecclesiastical course. Therefore without delay he went to the famous Benedicti● Abbey of Glastenbury, where he bid adieu to the world, and put on the holy habit of saint BENEDICT. And afterwards in due time, by the hands of the same Bishop, his cousin, he He liveth in a mo●● narrow cell was promoted to the sacred dignity of Priesthood. near unto the Church of our Ladies of Glastenbury, he built himself a little Cell so strait, that all that saw it were astonished, how a living man could dwell in it. For I myself (saith the Author of his life) have measured the place, containing but four foot in length, and two and a half in breadth. The height was proportionable to the ordinary stature of a man. In the midst of the door was a little window. In this slender lodging he led his life in prayer, and contemplation, working in such things as the narrownes of the place would permit; but above all things labouring to please almighty God in all, and through all his actions, He braue's vanquisheth the de vill. daily gaining to himself an higher place in his divine favour. But the devil envying his pious exercises, endeavoured to disturb his devotions, presenting himself one day unto him in the form of a maid, that feigned to be in want of his help about some piece of work: and as the holy man prepared himself to satisfy her demand, he perceived that enemy of mankind to transform himself into diverse shapes, that he seemed to see the form, and hear the voice now of an old man, now of a young man, and strait of some lascivious woman that stood before him. Then understanding what it was, he caught the fiery tongues out of the fire, and took that hellish monster by the nose, and held him fast. There then was to be seen a brave combat between the friend and enemy of almighty God. Till at length saint DUNSTAN remaining conqueror, the devil fled away with confusion, horribly roaring and complaining that his pride and cavie had received the foil: and never after adventured to molest the holy man in that place. When from this time, DUNSTAN was endued with so great purity of heart, and His rare purity of mind and body such a rare chastity of body, that he more ressembled an Angel of heaven, than a mortal man. Whence it came that many poor and rich flocked unto him from all parts, to use his counsel for the health of their souls, and to be by him informed, and directed in the way of good life, and virtue. Amongst others that came to be instructed by his zeal and prudence, one was a virtuous Matron called Elsgine, whom when he had piously directed and well grounded in the way of virtue for a long time, and armed at length with the last sacraments, the happily ended this life, and left all her goods and possessions to the disposition of her pious Father saint DUNSTAN, who presently distributed the moveables to the poor, Five monasteries built by his means. and with the rest, and his own inheritance (being the only child of his parents) he built and enriched afterwards five monasteries, and filled them with holy Conuents of Benedictine Monks. VII. NOT long after king Ethelstan being dead Edmond his brother succeeded in the kingdom of England, who understanding of An. 940. the rare prudence, sanctity, and discretion of saint DUNSTAN sent for him to his Court, that by his worthy counsel and industry he Dunstan in great favour with King Edmond. might the easier rule the sceptre of his kingdom with justice. DUNSTAN offering this service to God, and the good of the common wealth, condescended to his desire. When it was rare to behold how prudently he behaved himself in disposing of the affairs of the realm, in composing of contentions that arose, and establishing true peace and concord among the subjects, to the great comfort and joy both of the king, and Nobles. Nevertheless within a while he lost all favour and grace with them both, by the envious detractions By enui●he he i. expelled the Court. of those that could not support the lustre of his resplendent virtues, nor endure one alone to bear more sway, and be in greater credit than all the rest, What shall I say? The malignant words of his adversaries prevailed so fare, that DUNSTAN was not only deprived of all ancient honour, but also banished the Court. This done, after three days the King going on hunting, and being carried by the untamed courage of his horse pursuing the game towards a mighty precipice, that threatened both him and his beast with destruction, seeing imminent death before him the injury done to DUNSTAN came suddenly into his mind, whereat sighing from the bottom of his heart, he was much grieved, promising strait in his mind that if by God's help he escaped that danger alive, he would again receive him into his favour. When to his great comfort and admiration, his horse, which before no force could hold, stopped suddely on the ridge of that huge downfall, He is recalled to savour and delivered him from his expected ruin. Then having related this accident to his Nobles, and caused DUNSTAN to be sent for, he humbly demanded pardon for his fault, did worthy peanance for the injury, and restored him to his ancient honour, place, and dignity; faithfully promising to be his true friend and protector ever after. Moreover, as a testimony of his future friendship, he gave him the lands of Glastenbury where he was borne and bred, to be disposed according to his good will and liking. Saint DUNSTAN by the kings means built there a goodly Monastery, and gathered He buildeth the monastery of Glastenbury. into it a worthy Convent of Benedictine Monks, whom he himself governed in quality of Abbot. So that by his good example and industry, that Abbey increased wonderfully both in the excellency of monastical profession, and in the abundant possession of temporal goods; And that place became a Nursery of learned and holy men that through all England cast the foundations of a religious life under the rule of saint BENEDICT, like so many Pillars of the Catholic Church. And now it came to pass, that as in this Church (as it is about said) the whole multitude of people recovered light from saint DUNSTAN'S Mother's candle; so out of this place thus instituted by the learning, and industry of DUNSTAN himself, all the Churches of England received the light of true Religion, and monastical discipline, by the example, and virtue of many worthy men called hence to the dignity of Abbots, and Bishops in the kingdom. VIII. AMIDST these things, the holy life and conversation of saint DUNSTAN purchased him wonderful hatred from the devil, the perpetual enemy to the Benedictine order. But he always found him to be as his name signifies, a firm Rock of the mountain, He hearet 〈◊〉 the songs of Angles. whom all the hellish practices of that Master of mischief, could not move from the ground of virtue. And by so worthily triumphing over that infernal monster, he deserved to to be partaker of the sweet harmony of Angelical voices, which, at the instant, when King Edgar son of Edmond was borne, he heard sing an Anthime foretelling peace to the English Church, by that happy birth. Allsoe at the Church of Bathe, being very seriously detained in his prayer, he beheld the soul of a young Monk, whom he had brought up at Glastenbury, carried up by troops of Angels into heaven. And it was found that that youth The de●ill appears. died at the same instant. Being afterwards in his journey to the King who in great haste had sent for him, he was met in the way by the devil, who very petulantly, and like a Buffoon rejoiced, and sported himself before him. Being demanded the cause of his mirth: he answered, that the King DUNSTAN'S friend would shortly die, which should be a cause of great trouble in the kingdom, and he hoped that the next king would not favour DUNSTAN, nor his adherents. But this Master of lies could The death of king Edmond, as. 946. not utter two true tales together: for albeit it fell out indeed that king Edmond was slain in his Palace within seven days after, yet his Brother Edred succeeded, a man worthily fervent in the service of almighty God, and who honoured DUNSTAN with no less love, favour, and reverence then his predecessor. Nay Elph●g●s Bishop of Winchester being dead, king Edred with manic prayers solicited saint DUNSTAN to succeed in that Sea, whose absolute refusal of that dignity much grieved the good king's mind, & made him deal with good Queen Edgine his mother, to persuade DUNSTAN to accept it; but all in vain, for nether the mothers nor the son's entreaties could prevail to make him take it. IX. AFTERWARDS saint DUNSTAN went to visit his The death of king Edred. brethren at Glastenbury, where he had not stayed long, but king Edred being fallen mortally sick, sent for him in all haste. Who travelling speedily towards the Court, heard a voice from heaven that said; King EDRED rests in peace. And at the very sound of those words his horse fell dead under him, without any hurt to the rider. Then going sorrowfully to the sorrowful Court, together with his fellows he committed the body of the King to the Mother The bad life of king Edwin. Earth. Edwin the son of King Edmond succeeded in the government of the Kingdom; who filthyly defiled both the beginning and progress of his whole reign. For, omitting the impiety, cruelty, and tyranny wherewith he outraged all sacred and prosane things, he was a man so beyond measure addicted to the pleasures of lust and lasciviousness, that he languished in the love of the mother and her daughter both together, using both their bodies at his pleasure. And, which is horrible to be spoken, on the very day of his Coronation, dinner being ended, he forsook the company of all the Bishops, Abbots, Princes, and Nobles of the realm, and went into his private chamber where he sat in the midst embracing the mother and daughtér, his ordinary strumpets. Which act caused a great scandal and indignation amongst the Princes, and Nobles then present. Whereupon (the rest excusing themselves, out of fear to incur the king's anger) S. DUNSTAN was sent to draw Note the great zeal of S. Dunstan. him out off that lewd company. Who entering the chamber, and finding the king (having laid by his royal crown) dallying on the bed between those two naughty women, first with a stern look he sharply rebuked their lasciviousness, and then with a low voice he humbly entreated the king to redeem this public scandal, and to return to his Peers to gladden them with his royal presence. But the King (anger and shame striving in his mind for the mastery) absolutely refused to come. Then DUNSTAN in the zeal of a holy anger, took him fast by the hand, and clapping the Diadem upon his head, drew him violently into the Hall amongst his Nobles. These wicked women were so ashamed and offended herewith, that they persuaded the King (allsoe highly enraged against S. DUNSTAN) to banish him out of the kingdom. Who not only banished S. DUNSTAN, but sent wicked officers to the monasteries of Glastenbury to seize upon all the goods that belonged unto it. The like injustice he used to many other monasteries of England, not only despoiling them of their lands, goods, and revenues, but banishing the Monks allsoe, that maintained the profession and defence of a chaste life. Then the Abbey of Malmesbury (saith William a monk of the same place) which the space of two hundred threescore and, ten years before, had been inhabited by Monks, Dereg. l. 2. c. 7. was made a stable of secular Clerks. X. S. DUNSTAN therefore having received the decree of his banishment, departed out of England, joyful in his heart that he was worthy to suffer for the defence of justice, and love of charity He went into Flanders, where the Lord of that country courteously entertained him at the City of Gaunt, and there in the exercise of true piety and religion, he expected how it should please the divine See the cruelty of a detestable woman. wisedon to dispose of him. But the foresaid woman, or rather infernal furies, were not satisfied with his banishment, but plotted to have him surprised by the way, and rob of his eyes: which they failed to execute, for when the instruments of this cruelty arrived at the Port, the Saint had already hoist sails, and was gone. Our Lord greatly comforted Saint DUNSTAN in this banishment, by the means of his holy Apostle Saint ANDREW, to whom he was ever peculiarly denoted, who visited him often, and appeared unto him, with words, and promises of great consolation. In the mean time the almighty and heavenly wisdom cast a merciful eye on the English nation; and used means, for the perpetual consolation thereof, again to restore DUNSTAN the Father of the country, into his former, and fare greater degrees of place and dignity. For the Northumber's, and Mercians withdrew themselves King Edwin justly punished. from the subjection of King Edwin, and made the Noble Edgar his brother their Prince, under whose conduct they persecuted Edwin, and driven him beyond the river Thames; so that all the country from thence to Humber, was wholly subject unto Edgar. And with in a short time, death having ended the quarrel, and taken away Edwin, Edgar remained Monarch of all England. Who being desirous Edgar recalleth S. Dunstati. to establish his kingdom with peace and justice, caused all the outrages committed by his predecessor to be repaired, monastical and church-good to be restored, and by messengers sent into Flanders, recalled S. DUNSTAN into the Country with great honour and reverence, committing himself, and all his affairs to be ruled He is made Bishop of Worcester. and ordered by the prudence of his care and counsel. Moreover that greater dignity might authorize all his proceed, with many prayers he persuaded him to accept the bishopric of Worcester, and he was consecrated at Canturbury, by the hands of S. ODO the Archbishop. Then this holy Prelate returning to his Church, discharged the part of a most worthy Pastor, using an extreme vigilance over his flock, which he governed with wonderful integrity unremoved constancy, and discrete severity. XI. BUT the bishop of London being dead, after mature deliberation for a successor, no man was found so worthy, as S. DUNSTAN, And of London. so that he was compelled to undertake the government of that Sea allsoe, when how rarely he did the office of a holy Prelate in both these places, it goes beyond the force of weak words to declare. At length, by the unanimous consent of all, he was chosen Archbishop of Canturbury, when he went to Rome (according to the custom of those times) and obtained his pall of the Pope, who sent him back with all the authority, and dignity belonging to the Metropolitan of England. At his return, with great honour & applause he was received and installed in the archiepiscopal Sea of Canturbury, when assuming for his armour of proof the word of God, he strengthened himself against the Prince of the world, and began on all sides to destroy and ruin his members, with a resolute constancy, and a constant resolution of true piety, virtue, and religion. XII. A COUNT no less rich the powerful had unlawfully married He excommunicateth an incestuous Count his own niece: against whom S. DUNSTAN (having the second, and third time admonished, and sharply rebuked for that incestuous offence: & seeing no hope of amendment) used the sword of abscision, and by the sentence of excommunication cut him off from the communion of the Church. The Count much incensed herewith, had recourse to the King, and to the Pope to make his peace with DUNSTAN, but finding that both their entreaties could nothing move the holy Prelate, who remained firm as a rock, that could not be shaken with any thing, admiring the constancy of the Saint, & fearing left his malediction should cause the ruin of his soul, he divorced himself from that unlawful wife; And when DUNSTAN presided in a Nationall Synod of the whole realm, the Count came barefoot Behold a rare example of public peanance. into the place, clothed in a poor habit with a handful of rods in his hand, & casting himself in that full assembly at the feet of the holy Prelate, with a woeful piety craved pardon of his fault, offering him the rods to be chastised, and absolved from the excommunication, and admitted to the sacraments of the Church. At which sight the whole company was moved to pity and compassion, and DUNSTAN more than the rest. Yet observing all ways the rigour of discipline in his countenance, a while he contained his urging tears, but with difficulty: till being entreated by the whole Council, with weeping words he gave him pardon and absolution. XIII. BUT this was nothing in respect of that which he did to King King Edgar's offence Edgar, whom so highly he honoured, in the punishing of an enormous sin which he had committed to the great scandal of the country. The King coming once to the Monastery of 〈◊〉 Nuns at Wilton, chanced to see a fair young maid, excelling both in nobility and beauty, that lived there as a tabler amongst the other Nuns, of whom he became fond amorous, and desired to have conference with her in a secret place. The Maid, being careful of her own chastity, and fearing left the king might offer violence in such an opportunity, took the veil from one of the other religious women, & put it on her own head, supposing that he would attempt no dishonesty against her thus veiled: Whom when the King beheld in that manner; Thou art quickly made ●● Nun, said he: and pulling the veil off her head, ravished her by force (such cruel enemies to the soul our eyes are, that they rob us of our hearts.) This fact was cause of great scandal in the Kingdom, till the news arrived at the ears of saint DUNSTAN, who was strucken with great sorrow thereat. Therefore hastening presently to the King, and he, as his manner was coming to mee●e him, and offering to take him by the hand to lead him in with honour, DUNSTAN with a frowning look drew back his hand, and Would not suffer him to touch it. Whereat the King greatly amazed, demanded the reason of this strangeness: To whom saint Note the zeal, and constancy of S. Dunstan. DUNSTAN; Thou breaking all laws of shamefastness, hast played the adulterer; thou despising God, and not fearing the sign of chastity, hast rob a Virgin of her integrity; and dost thou ask why I give the not my hand, that sacrificeth the Son of the Virgin to his almighty Father, to be polluted with thy impure fingers? First wash thy hands from filth with the tears of penance: and then, that thou mayest be reconciled to God's grace, honour, and embrace, the sacred hands of a Bishop. The King (who suspected nothing less than DUNSTAN to be guilty of that secret) was The great humility of King Edgar. strangely amazed at these sharp words, and presently (like an other David) he became penitent, and throwing himself prostrate at the Bishop's feet, with words full of tears and sighs acknowledged his fault, and desired penance. DUNSTAN seeing so great an example of humility in the King, ran to him, and having lifted him from the ground, began with a pleasing countenance to deal familiarly His seven year's peanance. with him touching his soul's health: and enjoined him seven year's penance for satisfaction. Who having obtained a Pontisicall absolution, joyfully performed his penance, and exercised many other works of piety over and above, by the instinct, and counsel of S. DUNSTAN. Moreover remaining ever after constant in the love and service of almighty God, he very worthily promoted both the civil and the Ecclesiastical discipline of his realm, was very careful to see justice observed, to which end he established many good laws, whereby he deserved to have his kingdom adorned with so many heavenly benefits, and blessings, that during his reign, nothing seemed to be wanting that any way belonged to the commodity of a well-ordered, and happy Commonwealth. XIV. NETHER do I (saith Harpsfield) believe this great felicity Saec. 10. cap. 3. to have flowed from any other fountain, then that Edgar from a child (although sometimes in his youth he suffered under human frailty) was always piously affected to God and divine things, by which the rest of the commonwealth, & all his happiness depended; and that he used these most faithful, most friendly, most wise, and most holy Counselors, OSWALD, ETHELWOLD, and above all DUNSTAN, who piously and holily governed his youth in the way of virtue and good life. And the holy documents which he sucked from their mouths, he afterwards fulfiled in his deeds, and examples. Whence it came to pass, that by his royal means, and by the couns●ll and aid of these three worthy Bishops, and Pillars of the Benedictine Order, the Monasteries, that from the beginning of the Christian faith in England, were built by 〈◊〉 AUGUSTINE our Apostle and others, were now again restored, and re-edified, King Edg●● r●payr●● 48 monasteries. out of a long and cruel desolation and ruin into which by the violent incursions of the Danes they were fallen● and this King EDGAR built new and repaired forty eight for monks, and 〈◊〉 of saint benedict's order. And in them the monastical 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 was much impaired, was again restored to its 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 and glory: King Edgar himself under taking 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 ction of the monasteries of men; and in●oyning 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 wife to take the charge and custody of the houses of the sacred Virgins and Nuns. XV. FUTHERMORE, in thoses days the secular Clerks or Canons, (who in the time that the Benedictine Monks were expelled out of their ancient seats by the Danes, had by little and little crept into the Monks Churches) led a most dissolute and corrupted life, in so much that either not at all, or very negligently they performed the duties of their function and calling, unlawfully making us of wives, and Concubines contrary to the prescript rules of the Church, and their order. Saint DUNSTAN being desirous to correct this scandalous evil, obtained, by the authority of Pope John, to have the Secular Clergy expelled, & the Benedictine monks introduced into the government of those Churches. Then King Edgar, whose zeal was great towards the reforming of Church-discipline, made this pathetical speech to the Bishops, and Abbots of his Kingdom sitting in Council. Because our Lord hath magnified to work mercy with us, it is convenient (O most Reverend Fathers) that with worthy Out of Alured of Rhievall de reg. Angl. Psal. 4●. 4. works we correspond to his innumerable benefits: for nether shall we possess the earth in the virtue of our sword, nor shall the strength of our own arm save us; but his right hand, and his holy arm, because he is pleased in us. It is just therefore, that we labour with all diligence, to submit our souls unto him, who hath made all things subject to our feet: and that we strive to bring those, whom he hath made subject unto us, to be subject to his divine laws. And indeed it is my part to rule the laiety with the law of justice, to give just judgement between a man and his neighbour, to punish the sacrilegious, to bridle the rebellious, to deliver the weak out of the hands of the potent, & the poor and needy from those that oppress them: yea and it is part of my care to provide necessaries for the Ministers of the Church, the Conuents of monks, and the Quires of Virgins; and to look to their peace and quiet. But to You belongeth the examination of all their manners; to know if they live contynently: if they behave themselves decently to those which are abroad; if they be careful in the divine offices, diligent to instruct the people, sober in their diet, mean in their habit, and discreet in their judgements. With your leave be it spoken (Reverend Fathers) if you had made diligent search into these things, such horrible, and abominable matters of the Clerks had not come to our cares. I omit that they neither have appearance of a Crown, nor a becoming tonsure; that lasciviousness in their habit, insolency in their gesture, uncle annes in their words, do proclaim the madness of their inward man. Moreover, so great negligence in the divine office, that they scarce deign to be present at the sacred watches, and seem to meet at the solemnities of mass to sport and laugh, rather than to sing. I will speak, I will speak that which makes good men grieve and the bad to laugh: with grief I will speak (if indeed it can be spoken) how loosely they flow in banqueting, and drunkenness, in chamber-delights, and dishonesties; that now the houses of Clerks, way be thought to be common brothels of whores, and conventicles of Players. There's dice, dancing, and singing, there's riotous watching wish clamour and horror protracted to midnight. Is it thus that ye do prodigally consume the Patrimonies of Kings, the alms of Princes, yea, which is more, the ransom of his precious blood? Wast For this, that our forefathers did empty their treasures? For this hath the King's Exchequer been pulled down, by the taking away of many revenues? For this, did the royal munificence give many lands and possessions to the Churches of Christ, to adorn strumpets for the delights of the Clergy, to prepare lustful banquets, and to purchase dogs, hawks, and other such lake toys? These things the soldiers proclaim, the people whisper, fools sing, and reoyce at, and You neglect, You Spare, You dissemble, and wink. Where is the sword of Levi, and the zeal of Simeon, Gen. 34. 2● who cut off the Sichemites, even the circumcised (that bore the figure of those that defile Christ's Church with unclean actions) when they abused as a whore the daughter Exod. 32. 21. of jacob? Where is the spirit of Moses, who amongst those that adored the Calf, spared not the domestics of his o●●●. blood? Where is the dagger of Phinees the Priest, who piercing Num. 25. 7. Act. 5. 5. 8. 20. the sides of one playing the harlot with the Madianit●, with this holy zeal appeased the wrath of our Lord? Where is the Spirit of Peter, by whose virtue avarice is slain, and the Simoniacal heresy condemned? Jmitate, Oyee Priests, imitate the ways of our Lord and the justices of our God: It is now time to proceed against them. that have dissipated the law of God. I have the sword of Constantine, & You hold in your hands the sword of Peter; let us join right hands, let us unite sword, to sword that the leprous persons may be cast out of the camps, that the sanctuary of our Lord may be purged, & the Sons of Levi may serve in the temple, who said to his father and mother. I know you not, and to his brethren, I am ignorant of them. Do carefully I prayyee, lest it repent us to have done what we did, and to have given what we gave: when we shall see it consumed, not in the service of God, but in the lecberie and unpunished liberty of naughty persons. Let the relics of the Saints move ye, to which they insult, the venerable altars before which they are outrageous: let the wonderful devotion of our predecessors move ye, whose alms the madnep of the Clerks abuseth. My great Grandfather, as you know gave the tenth of all his lands to Churches, and monasteries: and his Grandfather Alured, spared nether treasures, nor patrimony, nor charges, nor revenues, to enrich the Church. What my Grandfather Edward the Elder bestowed on the Churches, your paternity cannot be ignorant: and what gifts my father and brethren heaped on the altars of Christ. it well becomes ye to remember. O Dunstan Father of fathers, contemplate I beseech thee my father's eyes darting their beams upon thee from the bright clime of heaven: heart these plaintiff words of his with a certain piety resounding in thine ●ares. Thou O father Dunstan, An Apostrophe of King Edgar's father to Dunstan didst give me bolesom counsel to build Monasteries, and found Churches: thou wast my helper, and coadiutour in all things: I chose thee to be the Pastor and spiritual father of my soul and manners. When did I not obey thee? What treasures did I ever preserre before thy counsels? What possessions did I not contemn at thy command? If thou didst judge any thing to be given to the poor, I was ready; if thou didst affirm any thing to be bestowed, I differed it not. If thou didst complain that any thing was wanting to the Monks or Clerks, I supplied it. Thou didst assever alms deeds to be eternal, and of them none to be more fruitful, than what was bestowed on monasteries and Churches, whereby the servants of God are maytained, and the remainder distributed to the poor. O the excellency of alms! O worthy ransom of the Soul! O wholesome remedy of our sins! which hanging at the bosom of a wanton Tibbe stinks of musk, which adorns her pretty ears, which braceth her delicate bedie in silk and purple. Is this the fruit of my alms, Father, is the effect of my desire, and thy promise? Psal. 49. 18. What wilt thou answer to this complaint of my father? I know, I know, when thou sawest a thief thou didst not run with him, neither didst thou take part with adulterers. Thou hast Tim. 4. 2. argued, thou hast beseeched, thou baste rebuked: thy words are contemned, we must come to blows, Here thou hast with thee the ●V; enerable father Ethelwold Bishop of Winchester, and the most reverend Prelate Oswald of Worcester. To you three I commit this business, and command that by episcopal censure, and my regal authority, the lewd livers be cast out of the Churches, and those that live soberly introduced. XVI. THEREFORE saint DUNSTAN, and the other holy Bishops ETHELWOLD, and OSWALD, being of themselves prompt enough to purge the Church of Christ and free it from this 〈◊〉 of uncleanness, and their own propension thereunto being much See the particulars hereof in the lines of Oswald, and S. Ethelwold. incited with this wonderful zeal of the King, never ceased, until having expelled the secular Clergymen out of Winchester, and ●●cester, and other Churches, they introduced the Benedictine Monks in their steed, unto whom those seats anciently and truly belonged. O then truly bless●● church of the English (faith Alured of Rh●●●●) De reg. Angl. which the integri●e of innumerable Monks and Virgins did adorn, which the devotion of the people, the sobriety of the soldiers, the equity of the Judges, the fruitfulness of the earth, did make to rejoice. The most blessed King did triumph with a pious joy, that in his time nature had sound the true order of all things, when man to God, the earth to man, and the heavens to the earth, did perform their duties, with justice, fruit, and temperance. But the Clerks and secular Canons thus cast out of the Churches went posting to the King, and demanded judgement and justice for themselves in this expulsion, wherein they thought they had received great wrong. The matter was referred to the hearing of S. DUNSTAN the Metropolitan, who judged their petition to be just, and reasonable. Therefore by his authority, a Synod of all the A Synod held at Winchester Peers and Bishops of the realm was assembled at Winchester, in the presence both of the King and Queen, to determine the complaints of this affair. Many pleas were brought in on both sides, all which by the unshaken constancy, and found reasons of DUNSTAN were destroyed: who resolutly affirmed, that the secular Clergy which through lewdness of life was fallen from the order of Ecclesiastical discipline, could not justly challenge any part of that which was given to the Churches in behalf of such only as lived according to the rules of good life, and conversation. Whereupon, the whole controversy being omitted, the King and many of the Peers, much moved to pity by the prayers and petitions of the Clerks, interposed themselves, and made intercession to saint DUNSTAN to spare them for this time, and restore them to their Churches, having now understood how they should be handled if they did not amend their lives. Then DUNSTAN was silent, and plodding with himself what was best to be done in this business, all the whole company stood in silence and suspense to hear his answer; Behold a strange thing. when suddenly to the great astonishment of them all, a voyc● came from the Crucifix that hung in the same room, that said; It shall not be done, It shall not be done: ye have judged well, ye would change not well. The King, and all the assistants being much amazed, and terrified hereat, saint DUNSTAN inferred; Brethren, what more will ye have? God hath pronounced the sentence, and decided the whole controversy. By this means all yielded to the voice of heaven, the secular Clerks being deprived of their pretensions, durst attempt no further appeal, and the Monks gave humble thankes unto almighty God, who had so miraculously maintained them in the quiet possession of their own right. XVII. NEVERTHELESS, in success of time, the children and bastards of these Clergiemen, attempted once more to recover the This happened in the raigue of King Ethelred an. 979. goods and benefices of their sacrilegious fathers: and to this end, with a sum of money, they suborned a famous Orator called Berneline to undertake the defence of their cause, and with the force of his eloquent tongue, to persuade saint DUNSTAN to restore the goods of their progenitors unto them. Therefore a troop of this unhappy offspring being gathered together, they set upon DUNSTAN and the King at a Village called Clane: where their rhetorical Advocate, (in whom was the greatest hope of their victory) very elegantly alleged his reasons in their behalf, with all the tropes and figures he could invent. To whom saint DUNSTAN, with a smiling grave countenance, briefly answered: Do not ye know that this controversy hath long since been ended, by the mouth of almighty God? And therefore ought no more to be called in question. Hitherunto I have endeavoured to assist the Church with all the little force I had, and now old age and labours have so exhausted my whole strength that I desire to end that small remnant of life which remains, in peace and traquillitie: I laboured while I was able, and now I being not fit to dispute and contest in controversies any longer, I wholly The Monk's cause again confirmed by miracle. commit the cause of the Church to the protection of almighty God, who undoubtedly will defend it from all unlawful and unjust assaults. At these words that part of the chamber-floore where the Advocate and his Clients stood, fell down suddenly under them, whereby many of them were sorely hurt, whilst the other part, where S. DUNSTAN & his adherents were, remained unshaken, and movable. And with this fall, fell likewise the cause of the secular Clerks, and the Monks remained more firmly, and miraculously established, and confirmed in the possession of their Monasteries. So that (as we have said) by the means of saint DUNSTAN; and the assistance of the worthy Bishop's saint OSWALD, and saint Forty eight monasteries of Benedictines. ETHELWOLD, the number of forty eight Monasteries of Monks and Nuns of the holy Order of S. BENEDICT, were founded, and repaired, and replenished with Conuents of religious persons, that night and day sung the praises of almighty God, and lived a most holy and virtuous life. XVIII. BUT although this most holy Bishop hath deserved eternal How he conformed the Benedictine Order. praise and glory for his worthy endeavours bestowed thus in restoring the Monastical Order, yet the chiefest title of honour is due unto him in that he laboured not only to repair the outward walls and buildings of monasteries, & to replenish them with store of Monks, but allsoe made it the highest point of his aim and study, to reduce the Monastical discipline itself to the ancient and primitive rigour and vigour of our holy father saint benedict's Rule. And to this end he sent for many learned and virtuous Monks out of the most reformed Monasteries of France to teach the true pactise of the Benedictine discipline in England, and himself left written a notable monument of monastical observance, and and ancient piety, which is called; A regular Concordance of the Monks, and Nuns of the English Nation; whereby all the monasteries throughout England (allbeit before they all observed the Rule of the most holy Patriarch of monks saint BENEDICT, yet because almost every one had some diverse customs and Ceremonies different from the rest) were reduced to one and the same unanimous observance of regular discipline in all things; to the great conservation and increase of charity and true religion. He that desires to read this foresaid, Regular Concordance of saint DUNSTAN may find it set forth not long since in the third Appendix to that worthy latin treatise Entitled, The Apostleship of the 〈◊〉 in England. XIX. FURTHERMORE, how zealous this holy Bishop was in the S. Dunstan's zeal to justice. execution of justice, and rooting out of wicked persons out of the Country, is made manifest by this example. Three false coiners of money being by the laws of the realm condemned to death, the officers differred their execution by reason of the feast of Pentecost: which the holy man understanding, refused to celebrate his Mass, before justice was done: albeit some thought this act to be too rigorous and inhuman, yet our Lord made it manifestly appear, that it proceeded from a true zeal of justice, & of the good of the commonwealth; for as soon as those malefactors were dispatched, the holy Bishop went to Mass, when being in the midst of that dreadful sacrifice, a dove as white as snow was seen by all the A whi●e dove ●uer his he●d at Mass. assistants to descend from above, and sit upon his head, whence it did not stir until he had finished that sacred Offering, with extraordinary tears and devotion, in testimony that almighty God was pleased with the affection of his servant, which was more just than severe, without which it is most hard to conserve Kingdoms in peace. XX. BUT the business, which had hindered King Edgar from being crowned in royal manner, being now buried in oblivion, saint DUNSTAN, in presence of all the Lords and Peers of the realm placed the Royal diademon his head, to the wonderful great joy and exultation of the whole Kingdom. And after two year's space this noble King, and worthy Benefactor of the Benedictine Order, by a happy death changed his mortal Kingdom for an King Edgar's death. immortal reign in heaven: whom a grave Author affirmeth to have been no less memorable among the English, than Romulus to the Romans, Cyrus to the Persians, Alexander to the Macedonians, Arsaces to the Parthians, and Carolus Magnus to the French. He was buried in the Monastery of Glastenbury, where, as the records of the same Monastery do testify, his body was found without any spot of corruption, after many years lying in the ground. EDWARD his Son succeeded in the Kingdom, who being consecrated by S. DUNSTAN against the will of his stepmother, Edward the Martyr. and many of the nobles that took her part, was within few years cruelly martyred through her malice, as is above said in his life the eighteenth of March. Ethesred, the son of that wicked mother inherited the Kingdom, being endued rather with the ignominy of his mother then any good part of his fathers. Unto whom, S 〈◊〉 Prophesiet●●. being installed in the royal throne, S. DUNSTAN opening his prophetic mouth, foretold: that because he had obtained the Kingdom by the shedding of his brother's blood, his whole government should be in blood, by the frequent invasions of barbarous and foreign enemies. Which words, by time were too truly verified. And not only in this but in many others saint DUNSTAN had the gift of prophecy, by which he foretold to the Bishop of R●chester, and Saint ETHELWOLD of Winchester, the time and hour of their deaths. XXI. WE shall never come to an end if we go about to load this paper with all the noble virtues and excellencies of this thrice happy and glorious Prelate S. DUNSTAN: our discourse now hasteneth towards his blessed death, the end and reward of his labours. It was on the celebration of that day, in which our Saviour having triumphed over death ascended gloriously into heaven, when this holy Bishop, after the performance of the night-office in the choir, remaining alone in the Church of CHRIST at Canturbury, more seriously A most pleasant vi fion showed to S. Dunstan. to contemplate those great joys, and as it were to unite himself in soul to the glory of our glorious Redeemer, he beheld a heavenly vision of a great multitude of celestial citizens shining with inestimable splendour, to enter into the Church, with glittering crowns upon their heads, who brought him this message from JESUS-CHRIST, that if he were ready and disposed, he might go with them to celebrate the glory of that Solemnity in the triumphant city of heaven. To whom the blessed man with inestimable joy and undaunted alacrity See his great perfection. of mind, answered: What honour, what hope, and what joy by this Ascension of the Son of God, hath happened unto mankind, it is well known unto you who are participant of his unspeakable glory. Ye know allsoe that it is my duty and office, who have the sheep of my Lord commended to my charge, to feed them this day with the bread of everlasting life, and to inform them how to follow his footsteps to heaven, & therefore I cannot come this day to the desired place ye invite me. The Saint's finding his hindrance reasonable, bade him be ready provided against the saturday following, to enjoy their company, & sing with them: Holy, Holy, Holy, for ever. DUNSTAN promised he would: and those glorious spirits vanished out of his sight. A holy Priest named Elfgar, was at the same The witness of his vision. time made participant of this heavenly vision, who afterwards became a faithful witness thereof unto the world. XXII. THEREFORE S. DUNSTAN acknowledging that the time of his death was at hand, and being secure of his eternal happiness, piously rejoiced in our Lord, and was replenished with a spicituall mirth towards all men. And now the hour of the divine office was come, when the holy Bishop went joyfully to the Altar to sacrifice the Son of God to his eternal Father. The Church was filled with a greater multitude of people then ever, drawn thither, by I know not what instinct, as it were, to hear some strange news, that had not been spoken off before. Therefore the Gospel at Mass being sung, the Bishop went to preach unto the The excellency of his ●ast sermon. people; when the holy Ghost governing his heart and tongue, he spoke more excellently than ever he had done before. Then returning to the altar, he finished that dreadful sacrifice, and being come to the Benediction at the end of Mass (which by bishops is more solemnly given) he went again into the pulpit, where so admirably he treated of the real presence, of the future resurrection of our bodies, & of the joys of everlasting life, that one unacquainted The real presence. with him before, would have judged those words to have proceeded from the mouth of an Angel. This done, he returned to the altar, and solemnly gave the people his benediction. But being much wounded in his mind with a pious fear, lest his dearest friends and children being strucken with the sudden blow of his death, should grieve more vehemently, than they would being forewarned of that doleful separation, to the great admiration of all he went the third time to the people: When he no sooner opened The wonderful brightness of his face. his mouth to speak, but like an other Moses his face shined with such glittering beams of glory, that not one of all that huge assembly, was able to fix his sight upon him. The inestimable sweetness, and joy that then possessed the hearts of the assistants, no pen is able to describe. But when the Servant of God began to discover the day of his death, than all that mirth was turned to mourning, and such mourning, that DUNSTAN himself, who was now destined to everlasting joys, being moved with natural pity and compassion, seemed to bear a part in that doleful consort. But using violence to himself weeping, he endeavoured to comfort the weeping: affirming that they ought not to be sorrow full for his departure, whom no labour or pay●e but eternal rest and glory would receive: and no man that is grounded in the root of true charity, should more esteem his own private and temporal commodity than the eternal benefit of his neighbour. And albeit he were absent from them in body, yet The spiritual presence of the Saints in spirit he would be always present, to help and aid them with his prayers. Having spoken to this purpose, he recommenced them all to CHRIST, and left them, unwilling to be deprived of the sight of his glorious countenance. XXIII. THE same day after dinner, accompanied with a venerable troop of monks, and other his friends, he returned to the Church, and having designed a place for his burial, he commanded S. Dunstan falls sick to have his grave opened. And then a cruel sickness seizing one his holy body, confined his weak limbs to rest in bed, where he lay all the friday following, incessantly attending to God and divine things, and inciting all that came about him to adhere to the examples and footsteps of CHRIST-IESUS. Thus conquering the strength of his disease with the weapons of a fir me faith and devotion, he passed over that day, till the morrow (which was the last of his labours and first of his desired rest) arrived. Then the Clergy and people flocked about him with a fearful expectation of the event which he had foretold of himself. And DUNSTAN being most desirous to enter into the joy of his Lord, and having strengthened himself with the sacred body and blood of CHRIST, joyful expected the happy hour foretold in He is miraculously raised together with his bed. the foresaid vision. When suddenly to the great astonishment of them all, by the hidden power of the almighty Deity, together with the bed wherein he lay, he was miraculously elevated three times to the top of the chamber, and as often let quietly down again. Then the holy man beholding a company of his amazed monks and spiritual children about him, said; My most dear brethren, His last speech. the beloved sheep of my pasture, your own eyes have beheld whither I am called & whither I am going. Ye are well acquainted with the path of my footsteps; ye know the labour of my life past; behold now the consummation thereof lifts me on high. Wherefore with the brief admonition of my dying voice, I exhort and counsel ye, that if ye desire to come whither I am going, ye be not flack to apprehend the way that I have walked in. almighty God himself, who hath directed my journey to himself, direct allsoe your hearts and bodies to fulfil his divine will in peace: And the whole company having answered, Amen, that blessed soul passed His glorious departure. out of this world, and by a sacred convoy of heavenly spirits, was conducted into the heavenly lodgings, to enjoy the ineffable vision of I●SVS-CHRIST God and man, the glorious crown and everlasting reward of his labours. XXIV. THIS glorious Prelate died in the year of our Lord 988. His burial. when he had governed the Mettopolitan Sea of Canturbury twenty seven years. He was buried with great reverence and lamentation of his Monks, in the place which himself had designed, within the choir, before the degrees ascending to the high altar in CHRISTS-Church. Which we doubt not to have been by him with great affection of piety so disposed, that lying in body before the face of his beloved children whom he had left in the turbulent dangers of the world, they might confidently have recourse to him in their necessities, who in spirit, according to his promise made, would always be present amongst them. And indeed the many miraculous effects wrought there at his intercession are manifest testimonies hereof. Of which we will briefly relate some few only, out of such authors as were Many miraces wrought at his Tomb eyewitness of them. Five women, and one man received their sight as they prayed at his tomb; others recovered their legs and other parts of their body which had been a long time unserviceable. And one, who being excommunicated by a Priest for his wicked life, making his prayer to this holy Saint, was delivered from a devil that wonderfully and with a horrible trembling tormented his afflicted body. He was seen sometimes by the Monks to go out of the Church in the night; whom as they endeavoured to stay; I cannot (said he) remain here any longer, for the wickedness of men, and the fi●thynes of impious persons buried in this Church. And not long after CHRIST-Church was burnt with fire. XXV. BUT for the bridling of the insolency of ungrateful persons, this ensuing story is worthy of memory. A Priest called C●onulphe, noble and rich, was oftentimes admonished by his friends to suffer himself to be carried to saint DUNSTAN'S tomb, to make intercession for his recovery out of an insufferable palsy which beyond all hope of humane help afflicted him. But a long time he contemptibly refused to listen to their desires, disdaining to join himself in company with the poor that daily flocked thither. Till at length, the vehemency of his disease and misery compelled him to depose all these proud flourishes of his haughty mind. Therefore he was brought to the holy Saint's One cured of a palsy. tomb, where by his prayer he obtained perfect health. He returned joyfully home, and invited all his neighbours and friends to a banquet in gratulation of his new received strength. Where, as among other praises of almighty God, it was declared, that now (as at other times the poor) saint DUNSTAN had cured a great and famous man allsoe, he became very angry and disdainful: And do ye reckon me (said he) among those wretched creatures? I see you are fare deceived; for setting aside all DUNSTAN'S help, nevertheless I had been certainly See the punishment of ingratitude. cured. Presently a horrible trembling over all his limbs followed that ungrateful speech, and a palsy more terrible than the former seized upon him, which he expressed with most horrid cries, and in which he strait vomited forth his miserable and ungrateful soul. And the author of this gratefully showeth, that as he had seen S. DUNSTAN'S benefits bestowed upon others, so in himself he felt of how great force his holy merits were. XXVI. FURTHERMORE, two soldiers that had slain the nephew of an Abbot called Scotland, made humble suit unto him in a great assembly at the relics of S. DUNSTAN, that for the sake and honour of so great a Saint, he would vouchsafe to pardon that offence. Whom when they could not move to mercy, behold at the same time a woman, that from her cradle had wanted the use of hearing, was miraculously cured. The night following, a Priest of a venerable aspect appeared to the Abbot in his sleep, and sharply rebuking him for his pitiless mind towards those supplicants, commanded certain ugly creatures to cast him and his nephews into a boiling cauldron. The Abbot brought to these straits, promised pardon, so that he might escape that torment. Whereat those horrid creatures vanished out of his sight. But the next day before the sun appeared the Abbot went to the holy tomb of Saint DUNSTAN, where with tears trickling down his cheeks he declared to the monks, what had befallen him, and gave public pardon to the Soldiers. XXVII. Whilst Lanfrancke Archbishop of Canturbury celebrated the dreadful sacrifice of Mass, a young monk that served him was horribly vexed with the devil, of whom for the space of some days, he could by no means be delivered. Being brought A possessed person delivered. afterwards to the sepulchre of Saint DUNSTAN, it was wonderful to see how that hellish fiend did abhor to come near those sacred relics: but ran up and down that troubled little world, as if he would break out either at his mouth, or through some other unclean part of his body. In the mean time a monk called Eifwine, caught the cross which was wont to be carried before Saint DUNSTAN when he was Archbishop, and applied it to the body of the afflicted person, sorrowfully pouring out these words: Holy DUNSTAN look upon this wretched creature, and show thy mercy. He had scarce spoken so much, but the devil was banished out of that possessed lodging, and the monk with tears of joy gave humble thankes unto Saint DUNSTAN, through whose merits he was delivered from that hellish Monster. In the mean time a very memorable thing happened. For this possessed creature being visited by some of the monks whilst he was in extremity, seemed to be wonderfully See the great virtue of Confession. rejoiced at their coming, openly casting to their teeth many offences by them hiddenly committed, and triumphing that he should have them to be the companions of his damnation. Which thing made them greatly ashamed, and compelled them presently to make a sincere confession of all their sins to a Priest, and humbly to desire absolution. This sacred expiation of their souls being done, again they returned to the possessed person, who looking upon them with a frowning countenance. And whence come ye (said he) or with what ablution have ye so soon washed away your uncleanness, and rob me of your company? These words he bellowed out with great exclamations, dreadfully fuming & foaming at the mouth. Whereby it appears that sins reucaled in confession are hidden from the knowledge of the devil. But this wretched creature being at length dispossessed, as is aforesaid, became more careful and fervent in the service of almighty God, and died happily; whose example caused many of the other Monks piously to reform their lives ever after. And of this tragedy, the Author whom me do follow, was an eye-witness. Moreover, when LANFRANKE Archbishop of Canturbury lay languishing Dunstan appeareth to Lansrank and cureta him. of a desperate disease which in the judgement of the world was thought would be his last, saint DUNSTAN appeared one night unto him & restored him so perfectly to his health, that that day, which all men expected would be the day of his funeral, he went joyfully to the Church, and celebrated the sacred mysteries of our Redemption on the Altar. And at the same instant one that served LANFRANCK at Mass was cured of a quartan ague, which had cruelly shaken him the space of eight months before. XXVIII. ONE Edward Archdeacon of the Church of London put himself into the company, and profession of the Monks of Canturbury, with intention to serve God more securely in that more sublime manner of life and perfection. But having for some year's A Monk resolveth to ●eaue the habit, space worthily answered to the dignity of his vocation, he began at length to let lose the raynes of religion, and to lead a more negligent and dissolute life. Wherefore incurring the reprehension of the Prior and Monks for this, he became so offended and incensed against them, that he began to think of flying away, and (as the saying is) to cast off his cowl to the hedge. But he resolved with himself not to departed without the good leave and licence of saint DUNSTAN, which out of his deceived mind he falsely hoped for. Therefore having settled the purpose of his flight, together with an other companion whom he had made guilty of his intention therein, he prepared for that unhappy journey; and taking his opportunity when the other Monks rested after dinner, be went first to saint DUNSTAN'S Tomb, where he laid open many complaints of the injuries he had received from his brethren, humbly desiring See if the Saints are ignorant of mortal affairs. him that he would not take this last refuge of his departure in ill part. And going presently out of the Church, he met with a Monk of a very reverend countenance who with a staff in his hand hindered his expedition, and commanded him to return to the Tomb, and there to change his mind and manner of prayer. He returned to the holy tomb, renewed his former petition, and straight prepared himself for the flight. Again he happens upon the same Moke, who gave him the same but a much sharper rebuke for that attempt, threatening to make him feel his staff unless he obeyed. But he (allbert much affrighted) returned to the Tomb, where again he repeated his old song, & came back to the Church-door, and finding the Monk his opponent to be gone, he thought that now he was right, and therefore hastened towards the monastery gate to departed. But there he met with the same Monk again, who now the third time stayed his evill-intended journey, and revealing himself to be DUNSTAN the Archbishop, and careful provisour of that place, he not only with words chastised him, S. Dunstan beateth back a fugitive monk. as a light fugitive of his vows and religion, but allsoe with many sore blows laid upon his head, back, and sides, he made him seel the piously cruel revenge of his staff; and presently vanished out of his fight. The poor Monk, who out of weakness could now nether go nor stand, was carried by his brethren into the Infi●marie, where his griefs grew daily so vehemently upon him, that the Monks despairing of his health, began with prayers to recommend his departing soul to God and his saints. In which having recited the seven Penitential Psalms, and being come to these words in the Litanies, Sancte DUNSTANE, intercede pro anima cius, (which out of their devotion to the holy Saint, they repeated) the Prayer to Saints, profitable. sick man began to be better, & to look upon the assistants with more lively tokens of life. ●nd having sent for Henry the Prior of the monastery, he made known unto him the whole manner of this story of his intended flight, and how and by whom he was hindered, affirming that now he was grievously sorrowful & repentant for his fault; from which he humbly desired to be released by the power of his priestly absolution. Which done, finding his conscience eased from the guilt, and burden of sin, he departed joyfully Confession o● 〈◊〉 o● a Priest. out of this life. The Prior relating all these things afterwards to the monks, behold he that was guilty of this flight (of whom no man knew any thing; nor he him himself hitherunto what had passed between Edward, and S. DUNSTAN) fell prostrate before the whole Convent, and with tears trickling down his cheeks, ingenuously confessed his fault, that he had allsoe been consenting to the others desire of flight. And the Author of this story allsoe is a witness beyond all exception, since he relates a thing which himself both saw and heard. XXIX. MANY other miracles are reported by very grave Authors to have been wrought by the merits of this glorious Saint Of the träslation of S. Dunstan. both during his life and after his death, which fearing to be over tedious I omit. Only I will admonish my good readers, if perchance they light upon those fabulous writings which affirm the sacred relics of Saint DUNSTAN to have been translated from Canturbury to Glastenbury in the year of our Lord 1012 and about the four and twentith year after his death, that they suffer not themselves to be easily deceived. For Eadmer a man most worthy of credit, and one very familiar with Saint ANSELME Archbishop of Canturbury doth utterly hisse out that fiction from the school of true history, and clearly showeth that he being a boy, by LANFRANK Archbishop, Gunduphe Bishop of Rochester, Scotland Abbot of Saint AUGUSTINES in Canturbury, in presence of the Conuents of both those Monasteries, and an infinite multitude of all order, sex, and condition, that sacred body was translated out of the ancient Tomb (in which it was found with the mitre, ring, pall and other pontifical ornaments, with a plate of lead, and a writing which testified that it was Saint DUNSTAN'S body) into the new Church newly built by blessed LANFRANK. Moreover, a few years Sec. 10. cap. 7. before I was borne (saith Nicholas Harpsfield) that is the year 1508. William Warham then Archbishop of Canturbury, caused this tomb allsoe to be opened. when the head and all the bones were found, as allsoe the leaden plate spoken off before. All which, many, besides the Archbishop men famous for dignity and learning had the happiness to behold and reverence. And in the perpetual testimony and memory hereof, by three public Notaries, John Barre●, John Colman, and William Potkins, the mat●er was written testified and subsigned. And the letters of the Archhishop to the Abbot and monks of Glastenbury (who against so great and so certain proofs bragged that with them reposed the relics of Saint DV●STAN, and not at Canturbury) are yet extant to be seen, to the utter disproof of that vain assertion. XXX. To conclude at length the life of this most glorious The Conclusion. Prelate, unshaken column of the English Church, incomparable restorer of our Ecclesiastical and monastical discipline, worthy Pillar and ornament of the Benedictine Order, undaunted Tamer of vices, and most zealous Advancer of virtue, religion, and justice, I think I can wish no greater happiness to the Christian world then that at this day it were adorned with many such Bishops as, Saint DUNSTAN, and many such Princes as the noble EDGAR was, that so the Spouse of Christ the Church might be purged from all spot of uncleanness, and Kingdoms governed with true equity and justice, in the ways of all piety, faith, and religion. But alas? where is that Bishop now that dare attempt to rebuke or curb the vices of a king or a Prince, as DUNSTAN did? And where is that king that being justly reprehended will humble himself as our EDGAR did? Surely the zeal & constancy of this admirable Bishop in curbing of vice was excellent: and the humility of this noble king in obeying the reprehension of the Church, was most memorable. God of his infinite goodness grant grace unto the spiritual and temporal governors of his Church to imitate the worthy examples of them both, & so to rule the flock of CHRIST committed to their charge, that they may attain to the everlasting happiness which these enjoy in heaven. Amen. The life of Saint DUNSTAN is written by Osberne a monk of Canturbury who flourished in the year 1020. Surius recites it in his 5. tome. Out of which and NICOLAS HARPSFIELD saec. 10. cap. 3. 6. & 7. we have chief gathered this whole history of his life. The Roman martirologe makes mention of him. And not long after his death, Canutus King of England in a famous synod at winchester, ordained amongst other things that the memory of Sainst DUNSTAN should be yearly celebrated in the English Church, as it is in the Sarum Berniarie. But in an ancient, manuscript Breviary of Saint benedict's Order I find the feast of his holy deposition celebrated the 19 of May with an office of twelve tessons. Baronius tom. 10. Trithemius in his work of the illustrious men of Saint benedict's Order, lib. 3. cap. 221. & lib. 4. cap. 100 william Malmesbury, de gest. reg. Ang. l. 2. and more amply de gest. Pont. lib. 1. and all our English writers do worthily speak his praises. And glorious mention is made of him in the lines of S. Edward king and martyr march the 18. of Saint ELPHFGUS' Archbishop and martyr April the 19 and elsewhere. The life of S. ETHELBERT King, and Martyr. MAY. 20 Written by joamnes Anglicus. ETHELBERT son to Etheldred king of the East-Angles, from his very infancy gave worthy signs of great towardliness and virtue, which in riper years he brought to an higher degree of The exercises of his your h. Christian perfection. Coming to years of discretion he was set to school, wherein he not only profitted much in learning, but allsoe avoiding all the fond allurements and vain pleasures of the world (contrary to the custom of children nobly borne) he spent his greatest endeavours in daily prayers, giving of alms, and other virtuous works of Christian piety, excelling all his equals in years as fare in virtue and learning, as in the royalty of his blood; for when they were sweeting in the dusty exercises of their youthful games, ETHELBERT was devoutly weeping in the Church He is made King of the east-angles. at his prayers. At length, death having rob his father of the cares of this world, ETHELBERT succeeded in the government of the Kingdom; when it was rare to behold with what prudent counsel, merciful justice, meek judgement, and all other virtues belonging to a good Prince, he ruled his subjects, livelily expressing both in word, work, and example, that by how much the more a man is exalted to the height of dignity, by ●oe much he ought to bear a mind more submissive and courteous unto all, whereby he won a wonderful and singular grace in the hearts of his nobles and people. To his mother the Queen he always dutiful love and respect as unto his governess, and whatsoever was pleasing to her desire, stood ever with his good liking. II. IN THE mean time, albeit of himself he were wholly bend His Nobles persuade ●im to Martie. to embrace perpetual chastity (so natural a propension he had to the love of all virtue) yet being earnestly persuaded by the urgent prayers of his Nobility, lest otherwise being destitute of an heir his Kingdom might fall into some danger, he yielded to their desires, and gave his mind to marriage. Then the name and fame of one Seledrid only daughter to a Prince rich and potent in the south part of England, to whom after her father's death that Kingdom fell for a dowry being in the mouths of all men, her our noble ETHELBERT was persuaded to take to wife, thereby to join the possession of that principality unto his own Kingdom. But he refused to listen to this counsel, affirming that Aegeon her father, albeit he were not unnoble, yet he was reported to have been always much inclined to guile & deceit, part whereof (said he) he hath in former time practised against my father. At length, after a long deliberation he made choice of Alfred daughter to Offa King of the Mercians, and the more strictly to oblige her, and her father unto him, this virtuous Prince went himself with a He taketh his journey into Mercia. small guard of his own country, into Mercia or Midle-England, to fetch her in pomp from her father's court. But at his very entrance into this journey he was terrified with many strange prodigies and accidents, as so many fatal signs of his death to which he hastened. Ascending on horseback the earth was shaken under him, and all the cleernes of the day was suddenly darkened with a thick cloud, in which appeared a pillar of light breaking out by times, that only gave him light to see his way: at length that being buried in those sad ●lowdes, the sun itself seemed to have forgotten his office of lighting the world, becoming dreadfully dark, and black to the sight of him and his company. Where many being much amazed devined strangely what those signs might portend: only the holy King ETHELBERT, in whose heart was engrafted so pious a candour of nature, that he constered all sinister suspicions of deceit in the best sense, and constantly persevered in his proposed A free conscience is void of fear. journey, with a merry heart and speech comforting and encouraging his company, to let a firm confidence in the mercy and goodness of almighty God banish out of their hearts all vain fear of worldly dangers. And falling down on his knees amongst them all, he made his prayer to our Lord, and presently the sun dispersed those dark clouds, and gave them perfect light again. III. THEREFORE he arrived safely into Mercia, and to the court of King Offa, at a place in H●refordshire called Sutton-Wallis, where he was at first most courteously and royally entertained by Offa. But the night following, holy ETHELBERT was much terrified and troubled in his sleep with many strange dreams and visions presaging his ensuing death, as allsoe the immortal glory which should follow. This King Offa had a wife called Quendred, who hearing her daughter Alfrid highly extolling the See the envy of wicked woman nobles dotes, virtues, and riches of Ethelbert and his Kingdom, and preferring them before her own fathers, was presently wounded to the heart with the sharp thorns of a jealous envy, with which she laboured so cruelly that she could not be delivered but by the death of King ETHELBERT, and the possession of his kingdom. Therefore going presently to King Offa her husband, she dealt earnestly with him to further her damnable project in murdering that innocent Prince. For behold (said she) how God hath delivered your enemy into your hands, that by his death his kingdom may pass unto the right and title of you and your successors. In sum, whether Offa consented to her devilish purpose, as some Authors say he did, or whether he were utterly against it, as others affirm, or whether at length he did wink at her wicked course, and seem to be ignorant of her mischievous practice, as many assever, howsoever, I say, it came to pass, certain it is that between them was shown an example of as detestable perfidiousness, as any that is recorded in history. For breaking the sacred laws not only of hospitality, but allsoe of all goodness and piety, they caused holy king ETHELBERT to be cruelly murdered in king Offas own house, by the bloody hands of one winebert, who had been brought up a servant Ethelbert cruelly murdered under Saint ETHELBERTS' father, and now to recompense his former favours received, became the cruel Minister of his death, being drawn thereunto with the covetous desire of reward. To what wickedness doth not the unsatiable hunger of gold compel mortal hearts? This false winebert brought holy ETHELBERT from his faithful company into a private room, who like an innocent lamb suspecting no harm at all went securely with him. Then having bound him fast, with a most cruel blow he strake off his head, who with his hands and eyes lifted up towards heaven yielded up his soul, so pure in innocence, and so glorious with martyrdom, into the hands of his dear creator and redeemer; the twentith day of May. Which being perceived by his intended spouse Alfrid, with a mind quite overthrown with sorrow to see her royal hope so suddenly dashed, she went forth to his company that without doors expected the coming of their beloved Master, and with a lamentable noise related the cruelty of this tragical scene. Who bearing this sorrowful news, and being not able to revenge his death, returned in doleful manner into their down country, being compelled instead of a wedding-song to sing an Epitaphe for the loss of their holy King. Then Alfrid renewing her complaints Alfrid becometh a Nun. Jngulphus in hist. Croyland, foretold many miseries to her Mother, which afterwards fell out accordingly. And she herself refusing to admit any other mortal wooers, consecrated her virginity to her immortal spouse CHRIST-IESUS, and in the fens of Crowland she took the habit of a Nun and lead a solitary li●e under the holy rule of saint BENEDICT, for the space of forty years after. But King Offa her father (which much increased the suspicion that he had been allsoe consenting to saint ETHELBERTS' death) presently lead his army into the province of the East-Angles so suddenly deprived of their King, and by force of arms subdued it to his own dominion. iv THE body of this holy King thus traitorously slain, was by the command of Offa committed to an ignoble burial in the banks of the river Lugge, at a place now called Marden. Whither as those cruel ministers carried it in great scorn, it was found to be so light as if it had been already ennobled with the dotes of heavenly glory. But the almighty Goodness ever zealous of his servants, suffered not the holy relics of this Saint to be buried in oblivion in that base place, but miraculously testified his virtue and piety to the world. For the night following was made glorious with a heavenly A light appeareth over his gra●e. light that appeared over the grave of this holy martyr, to the great astonishment and terror of the country adjoining. And the third night after his sacred martyrdom, saint ETHELBERT appeared in a vision to a simple man thereabouts, and commanded him to transport his body to the monastery built on the banks of the river Wye. Which was faithfully performed, and by the way a blind man was restored to sight by the merits of the holy Saint. It was then buried in a place anciently called Ferne-wood, where now stands the town of Hereford. And over his holy sepulchre, for the space of many years, glittered every night a heavenly splendour, to show of how great merit his blessed soul was in the sight of almighty God. V BUT King Off● greatly terrified with these miracles, and the A Church dedicated to S-Ethel bert. guilt of his own conscience became wonderful penitent for his former life; and making his son Egfrid a King with himself, in great devotion went to Rome, the better to expiate his foul and bloody deeds past. At Rome following the zeal and example of INAS King of the Westsaxons, he made his Kingdom subject to a Tribute, then called Peter-pences, afterwards Rom-scot. After his retune into England, for the greater satisfaction of his sins, at a place in Hartfordshire then called Holmehurst, now saint ALBAN, he built a magnificent Monastery in honour of the worthy Protomartir of great Britain saint ALBAN, whose sacred relics See more in the life of S Alban. june: 22. after long lying hid, came miraculously to light about the same time, which was in the year of our Lord 795. He allsoe endowed the same Monastery with many lands and rich revenues for the maintenance of a goodly Convent of above an hundred Monks of the holy Order of saint BENEDICT. Allsoe for a further testimony of his penance, he gave the tenth of all his goods unto the Church and the poor. He founded also the Benedictine Abbey of Bathe, and in Warwickshire he built a Church where the adjoining town from it and him, beareth the name of Off-Church. But after the death of King Off● (which was in the year of our Lord 797.) Milfrid a petty King of the Mericans moved with the continual and daily miracles wrought at saint ETHELBERTS' Tomb, gave infinite treasure thereunto, and built a famous Church of stone to his honour which remaineth to this day in Hereford by the name of saint ETHELBERTS' Church and is the Cathedral of that city. S. Ethelberts' well. And then that place was first made a Bishops-sea. But out of the place where the holy body of saint ETHELBERT had laid before issued forth a fountain of most clear water, called saint ETHELBERTS' well, over which now stands a Church, which without doubt was built in honour of this holy martyrs burial there. For it must needs be some strange motive that made men build a Church in that place, which is within ten yards of the river Lugge, which at every flood overflows it so, that it cannot be come at but by boat. The well I have seen myself, it is of a most pure water, and much esteemed of all good Christians thereabouts: In which one thing to this day is most strange and miraculous, that when the river Lugge adjoining overflows his banks, and that within Note a strange thing. the foresaid Church it is knee-deep and more of that muddie-red water, this Well of saint ETHELBERT, albeit it be quite ●uer●lowne, yet it remains most pure and clear amidst those troubled waters, unworthy to be mingled with the purity thereof. And this I have heard constantly and faithfully affirmed by many of the Inhabitants thereabouts, who are not ashamed to acknowledge a miracle done by the merits of this glorious Saint, and yet remain in the blindness of heresy to deny the Saints of their due honour, and worship, judging them as impotent creatures with almighty God, Whom of his infinite Goodness we beseech to give them grace once to wash away their blindness in the indeficient fountain of his grace, that they may behold and see the truth. The life of this glorious Martyr we gathered out of joannes Anglicus recited by john Capgrave, and Nicholas Harpsfield Hist. Eccle. saec. 8. cap. 9 Matthew Westminster an. 793. Polidore Virgil lib. 4. Molanus in addi●. Gyraldus Cambrensis and others do make honourable mention of him. He was martyred about the year 793. The life of Saint GODRICKE Hermite and Confessor, of the holy order of Saint BENEDICT May. 21 Written by Nicholas a Monk of Durrhan his Confessor. THIS blessed man was borne at a village called Walpole in the County of Norfolk, but adorned, polished, and brought to the perfection of virtue and piety in Northumberland. In whom truly the almighty wisdom seemeth to have imprinted and left to the world a most sound and wonderful figure of his immense Goodness and mercy. For, from a man borne in a most poor and abject place, and endued with no learning at all, he advanced him to that known height of virtue, prudence, perfection, and other heavenly gifts and graces, that many of them do seem almost to be beyond the bounds of credit. Which indeed I would not commit to writing, unless I thought myself secure and certain He becometh a merchant. of the truth of his worthy deeds. Therefore coming to the flower of his age, he became a Merchant of petty wares which he carried on his back to sell over the Country, from Village to village: Till his own industry having increased his little means, he frequented the cities and Fairs in the same trade. And at length, his riches daily growing, he became master or at lest a patner in a ship, in which he transported his merchandise into Scotland, Denmark, and Flanders; so that by much practice he grew to be a man very skilful in governing those walking houses, and in all the art belonging to the floating trade of sailors. In which being oftentimes ●ossed in most fearful and dangerous tempests, He always fled for refuge to the divine power of In seadangers he hath recourse to God and his Saints. God and his Saints; and the danger being past, he was wont in sign of gratitude to visit the more celebrated places, where the memory of Saint's was-obserued, to recommend the safety of his journey and return to their desired prayers. But going often into Scotland, he desired many times to visit the Episcopal Sea of Lindisfarne, and the Island of Farnen, in which places our great saint CUTHBERT had lived a Bishop, and an Hermit: Where having learned of the Monks the whole manner The first sparks of his conversion. of saint CUTHBERTS' holy life, and devoutly visitted all the corners of that Hermitage, and humbly with many tears implored the mercy of almighty God in his own behalf; he heganne ever after to have his mind daily more and more averted from worldly things, and by a secret and inward motion of his soul to be more vehemenly carried to a pious emulation of a solitary and perfect life. In the mean time he was taken with a wonderful desire to go in pilgrimage to Jerusalem, there to visit and adore the sacred sepulchre of our Lord, and other monuments of his dear passion. Thence he returned through Spain, where at Compostella he visitted the sacred body of the great Apostle S. JAMES. Being come again into England, he undertook He becometh Steward to a Rich man. the charge and government of the house and family of a certain rich man of his own country: where when he perceived the servants to live more licentiously, and make daily banquets of meats stolen, as he feared, from their neighbours, and that his friendly admonitions could not prevail to dissuade them, the master of the house himself refusing to correct them, foe they diminished not his own goods; Godrick soon after rid himself of that office, not desiring to have to do with so depraved a family, or with so remiss and negligent a Master. II. AND because, although vawares he had sometimes been present and partaker of their unlawful banqueting, the very thought thereof gave so deep a wound of sorrow to his soul, He goeth to Rome. that for the better expiation of that innocent fault, he made a pilgrimage to saint GILES his Church, and to the sacred shrines of the Apostles PETER and PAUL at Rome, humbly to crave pardon. Yea the very memory of that mistake would often times draw floods of tears from his eyes. Being returned, he remained for a time at home with his parents; till not long He is mor● in the way by a stranger. after, together with his mother he began a new and barefoot journey to Rome. In which they had for a companion a certain Virgin that of her own accord came into their company a little beyond, London, and carefully waited upon them going and coming, being unseen of all men but GODRICK and his mother only. Till being returned into England, and to that very place where first she met them, she departed out of their company, Nether did GODRICK in all that journey ever ask her what she was, or whence she came, nor did she once demand any such thing of him: Nor could GODRICK ever after resolve with himself what to imagine her to be; neither would he ever relate this story to any man, saving only at the later end of his days to our Author, who This was Nicholas a Monk of Durrham his Confessor. was his Counsellor in the more secret affairs of his soul. And I would not rehearse the same, did I not think that the lest suspicion of vanity could not befall such a man, so virtuous and holy as he: In whom from this very time it may be seen how excellently the seed of piety cast in his heart did strive more and more to grow to the maturity of perfection. And now amongst all the other sacred admonitions of CHRIST which incite us to embrace an absolutely perfect life, that voice of his; If thou wilt be perfect, Go, and sell all that thou hast, and give to the poor, like a trumpet Godrick resolveth to leave the world. sounded such an alarm in our GODRICKS' ears, that he never rested until he had performed it in deed. And yet did he not unadvisedly make away with his goods (as the Heathen Philosophers did) but to the end he might more easily and freely follow CHRIST, and perform that part of his speech also, Give to the poor, and follow me: which they did in no sort do. III. THEREFORE with the good leave of his parents, who endeavoured by all means to promote his religious desires with their prayers, exhortations, and well-wishes, he departed to the farthest parts of England, and to Carlisle, where he retired himself into a certain He leadeth a most strict solitary life. vast and horrid wilderness, to spend his time in the devotion of a solitary life. Having lived a while in that fearful place, he happened at length to find the cave of an other very old Hermit living there, into whose society according to his earnest desire he was admitted. This good old soldier of CHRIST was a layman, ignorant almost of all booke-learning, but having been conversant before among the Benedictine Monks of Durrham, he was so much the fit more exactly to direct our GODRICK in the discipline of a monastical life. Then it was a rare spectacle to behold the most sweet and alltogeather heavenly manner of life of these two holy men, night and day singing the divine praises of almighty God; between whom was no other contention, then whether more officiously should serve and obey his fellow. After the space of almost two years, a deadly sickness seized on the weak body of the old man; during which, it is almost incredible to be spoken with how great love and duty GODRICK served Godwin (that was the holy man's name.) For the space of fifteen days and as many nights, he took no rest at all. And when the force of human nature and infirmity compelled him to sleep, he conjured the soul of that dying man by the dreadful name of almighty God, not to departed out of his body, whilst he was asleep. He had his desire; for the strength of that aged body being dissolved, he saw his soul He see●h the soul of his companion dying, more white than any snow, depart like unto a burning hot breath of wind, or like unto a globe or sphere of most bright-shining crystal. The body was buried in the Monastery of Durrham. And our holy GODRICKE having lost the comfort of his beloved companion, pondering exactly with himself after what manner to spend the remainder of his life in that desert, and earnestly imploring the help of his singular Patron saint CUTHBERT, suddenly the same saint CUTHBERT appeared visibly unto him, and commanded S. Cuthbert appeareth unto him. him to go again to Jerusalem, to be made partaker of CHRIST'S Cross, and after his return, to inhabit the desert of Finckley not fare distant from Durrham. Whose admonitions without any delay he obeyed, and performed a journey so laborious and painful, that truly even out of this so great labour and ardour of the way, he may justly be thought to have participated of the Cross and Passion of JESUS-CHRIST. For he used no other meat by the way but barley bread, that now was well dried and hardened with age: His second journey to Jerusalem his drink was only pure water, and his and shoes he never either put off or changed. So that the soles of his shoes being worn, and he neglecting to mend them, certain lumps of dirt, and gravel grown together stuck to the soles of his feet, which gave him a feeling of most grievous pains. Nether did he desist therefore from his journey, nor shorten his daily accustomed length thereof. His admirable devotion there. iv BEING come at length to Jerusalem, the long desired end of his painful voyage, it is wonderful to be spoken, how great pleasantness and agility of mind and body he found and felt in himself, with how great ardour, piety, and devotion he watched and prayed in those holy places, with what streams of tears he watered the sacred sepulchre, and the other sorrowful monuments and trophies of our Lords bitter passion, and our redemption. Then together with others he entered into the river Jordan: which was the first time that he put off his garments since he began this tedious journey. He returned barefoot home having there made a religious and solemn vow never more to wear shoes while he lived After his return into England, he went to an Ermitage in the North, at a place in times past Streanshall, but now more usually called Whiteby, famous for the Benedictine Monastery of saint Hilda, where when he had remained a year and some months, he departed to Durrham. And there he not only frequented the Churches for his devotion, His desire to learn psalms. but allsoe the children's schools, and diligently listened to hear them recite their lessons to their Masters, whereby he learned many psalms, hymns, and prayers: For he was bend with a devout earnestness to learn the Psalms by heart, and the book of them he always carried about with him hanging by a string to his little finger: whereby it came to pass, that that finger was always bended crooked all his life after. But now he was totally carried towards his desired solitude, and at Durham he earnestly implored S. CUTHBERT the chief captain and Foreman of his undertake, that by the help of his intercession and prayers, he might fight valiantly and fruit fully for the health of his soul in the ermitage of Finckley allotted for his habitation. In which, once entered, he remained afterwards for the space of threescore and three years, He liveth threescore and three years an Ermite. and never went out but thrice in all that time, which was to Durrham three miles distant. The first time that he went, was on a Christmas night, to be present at the divine office and sacrifices of the Monks. When there fell an incredible abundance of snow, which being seconded with a most sharp and bitter frost, so grievously wounded the bare feet of the holy man, that every step he made left behind it a bleeding witness of his sufferance. At an Easter again he came once to Durham, to receive the dreadful and venerable Sacrament of the altar. And the last time, he came being sent for by Ranulphus the Bishop. V Now if one would as the greatness of the matter requires, exactly set down and describe all the manner of life of this thrice happy Saint whilst he lived in this desert, he might fill whole volumes of wonders. Us it shall ●uffi●e to give the readers some little taste thereof, and to gather as it were a short table of his famous deeds. In sum, this I will say, that in him there appeared in England, a second CUTHBERT, a new HILLARION, and an other ANTHONY. Will you know what clothing this worthy champion ufed? Truly His rude clothing. to outward show he wore such, that albeit they were corresponto his manner of life, yet were they not tokens of so great austerity. But under these next unto the bare skin (o unspeakable rigour!) either a most rude shirt of haircloth (of which kind he wore out many in that desert) or an iron coat of mail (of which he allsoe consumed three in the space of fifty years) or both these rough garments together, night and day braced his invincible body. Will you know with what dainty meats he lived? Verily for a time with no other than what the wild & horrid desert afforded His hard and spare diet. to him, living in Commons with other beasts. Till after some years, he was wont to make his own bread of barley flower mingled with a third part of ashes; which he would not use until it had been dried and hardened for the space of three or four, yea sometimes six months, whereby it lost all gust & savour of bread. Instead of herbs & salads, he made himself a kind of strange gruel or pottage of the wild and savage leaves & weeds of the desert pounded and beaten together in water, and so boiled without either salt or spice; which allsoe (fearing too dainty a feeding) he would nether taste, before it was grown aged with hoarnes, nor make new, before the worms and maggots began to take possession of the old. Nether did he ever use any other food but this, nor any other drink but pure water, unless when the extremity of his hunger or thirst was such, that it threatened him with the loss of his life. Sometimes he continued his fasting for the space of three whole days together, and sometimes more. To this so rare and spare diet his sleep was allsoe correspondent: which he did not take in bed, but His manner of sleeping. lying upon the ground, or leaning his wearied limbs to a stone or wall, never yielding to this short and hard allowance of rest, until the very necessity of nature by force compelled him thereunto, after the heavy toils of his day and night-labour●. His continual labours. For he laboured not only by the sun, but by the light of the moon also, as well in the parching heats of summer, as through the rigid sharpness of winter's frost and snow, being in the mean time always loaden with his coat of mail. And in these exercises, as often as he was not busied in meditation and prayer (although indeed at this time he was not idle from both) he spent his whole nights and days, banishing from himself thereby all signs of sloth and dullness of mind and body. VI BUT amidst all these labours, he severely exacted and obliged His daily and nightly prayers. himself to certain set hours and times by night and day, in which according to the custom of the Church he performed his whole and daily task of prayer; as at midnight, at sunrising, at the third, sixth, and ninth hour, and Evensong. At which times, no occasion or hindrance never so great could withdraw him from his devotion, & the punctual observance of his times of prayer and divine office, which was not that of the Church (to which his learning would not reach) but such Psalms as he himself by a divine grace had allotted to himself for his devotion. And to these times of prayer he called himself and his fellows, by the sound of a little bell prepared for that purpose. And because over and above this exercise he was wont to add a great number of other prayers; at each of them, lest he should omit some through oblivion, he laid by a little stone to signify how many were passed, and how many were to come: giving himself also a triple remembrance at the end of each prayer, with three blows on the breast, the better to incline almighty God to mercy. But of all these praises, nothing deserved more fame and admiration then that, when not only in the summer, but allsoe in the cold winter and chief those nights in His invincible patience. which the waters were cruelly frozen, breaking the ice he would enter up to the neck into a freezing pond, and watch a whole night therein in prayer, tears, and a self-punishing sufferance. All which austerity of cruel winter's cold, by the force and power of the flames of the divine love that inhabited his soul, he easily either contemned, or patiently and courageously endured. And when the vehemency of the cold made his teeth to chatter, and beat one & other for heat; when all his limbs were stark and stiff with that extremity, he used these words to himself; These sufferings are indeed grievous enough, but nothing in comparison of Hell's torments. Such a generous He endured many diseases. and unshaken mind this brave champion bore in the sufferance of worldly pains. Of which, I know not whether he ever gave a more lively example, then in the painful diseases which it pleased the goodness of almighty God to send him, for the greater trial of his patience, and more glorious increase of his heavenly crown and reward. Which divine trials he was so fare from taking in ill part, that contrariwise he most dutifully rendered thankes unto almighty God, as to a most indulgent father, who voutchased to chastise his unworthy child & servant with temporal and light punishments, and mercifully to free him from the eternal pains which he deserved. VII. BUT what? He not only endured with a quiet mind these Note a rare example of patience. griefs of proof sent from heaven, but caused unto himself, a new pain no less grievous and painful than the former. For when his whole body was covered over with loathsome ulcers, and clothed, as it were, in a horrid scurf of ugly scabs, which opening and separating themselves in many places from the flesh, set forth to be seen the picture of a most ill-faucured and foul spectacle: How gently and courteously (said he) our Lord deals with me, by preventing my eternal torments, with such mild and sweet remedies. But why am I myself so remiss, and so great a sluggard in punishing, and expiating my own offences? And presently he caused salt to be brought and poured into those gaping and open ulcers, and moved with a cruel piety he made his servant rubbe and scour those places with a rope of rude straw, in most doleful and pitiful manner. In which labour, when his Servant did sweat with tormenting, and he was not wearied with suffering; he took the rope himself, and with much more pitiless violence, he chafed and rubbed the same vexed sores. O miraculous example of patience! In which and many other virtues His wonderful hum●●●e. although he were excellent, and great, yet he never seemeth greater in my eyes, than when I consider the humble, meek, and low mind of the man, and so fare from all that vain human praise and glory, the only plague that many times is wont to defile, yea and utterly to ruin the famous deeds and praises of worthy and renowned men. But our GODRICK suffered not his praiseworthy deeds to come to light, and the knowledge of men, but endeavoured by all means to suppress them under the veil of humility. Nay to him it was a grief to come in person to the sight and speech of men. Whence it was lawful for no man, but on certain days in the week, and that but with the good leave of the Benedictin Prior of Durham, under whose obedience he lived, to have access unto him. The Author of his life, a man very familiar with him, being his Confessor, desired upon a time that with his good leave he might write his life, entreating the holy man to reveal some things himself touching that matter, which to men were unknown. See Godricks' opinion of himself. Indeed (answered he) thou hast undertake a goodly piece of work: For behold here thy wretched GODRICK, who in times past being in good state, lived as a hog of Epicures flock, a Fornicator, an usurer, a flatterer, and a perjured creature, but now he is become a base and abject fellow of no reputation, a conterfait Hermit and a deceiver; the false picture of a religious person, an idle snorting sluggard, one that unprofitably consumes the pious alms of good men, ambitious of honours, and unsufferably imperious over his servants. With these and other such like titles of praise thou mayest adorn and set forth thy GODRICK to the world. Which answer so amazed the other, that he durst make no further suit unto him in that matter. But some years after, he gave him licence to write, having first tied him in the bonds of a religious vow, that during his life, all things should be sealed up under the lock of silence, VIII. WHEN the Devils the ancient enemis of mankind The devils make wary against him. beheld these and other such famous virtues to shine in this B. Saint, they were tormented with a new hell of envy against him, and used all their deceits, tiled all their engines, and made show of all their terrors, to entrap him and work destruction either to his soul or body. And as in times past saint CUTHBERT, HILLARION, and ANTHONY, and other ancient fathers, so did our GODRICK being assailed diverse ways by that hellish crew, gain at length a glorious victory and triumph over them. When first he entered into the Ermitage of Finckley, an ugly wolf, or rather the devil in the shape of a wolf of greatness and fierceness both unusual, horribly invaded They are vanquished. him: whom by prayer, the sign of the Cross, and a constant and unmoved faith he easily vanquished, and put to flight, as he afterwards did other infinite deceits of those infernal monsters: and particularly when the devil endeavoured, but in vain, to smother him being at his accustomed prayers in the cold waters. Who perceaving his diabolical wit and force could nothing prevail against him, he took his off the bank of the river, and ran away with them: but being recalled by saint GODRICK he was forced to lay them again in the same place. This wicked spirit changed himself into a thousand shapes to deceive him. See the deceits of the devil. Sometimes he put on the form of an ox, other times of a bear, now of an Eagle, then of a raven, anon of a poor pilgrim and a religious man, and at last (to omit others of the same kind) of a fair woman endeavouring to draw him to naughtiness; all which with the only form and figure of CHRIST'S holy Cross, and the force of his faith and prayer, he easily vanquished. Sometimes a huge troop of infernal spirits provided and armed with fiery swords, flaming torches, clubs, hammers, tongs, and other diabolical weapons, with a horrid noise and tumult would rush in to fright him from his devout exercises: all which vain mockery of theirs he would not so much as behold; but with his eyes shut up, contemned them, and all their hellish practices, which made them departed with shame and sorrow. Once, when the two unresistable companions of mankind, He fighteth with the devil. sickness, and old age, had confined his weak body to entertain them both in his bed for the space of five years together, in such sort that he was not able without the help of a servant's hand to rise out of his poor couch; yet being terribly assailed by one of these importune furies of Hell, he rose without help, and naked as he was, grappled and fought with that master of mischief from one of the clock till nine, and at length put him to flight. Many years before this time the holy man was wont to sit continually by the fire, when behold suddenly one of his ancient enemies gave him such a mighty blow on the head, that he had almost laid him prostrate on the ground. Which kind of vexations were often used against him: but he molested him in nothing more cruelly, then in stirring up many dishonest and tickling motions of lust in his mind, and often presenting himself unto him in the false form of a most beautiful woman. Which hellish Goblin holy GODRICK put to flight with sprinkling the place with holy water. IX. AND these most cruel assaults and skirmishes he endured for His great d 〈…〉 u●tie in overcoming unchaste temptatious. the space of forty years after his first entrace into the camp of this spiritual combat. Which unlawful and filthy thoughts, when he could not repress nor overcome, neither with watchings longer then custom, passing three and four nights together without sleep; nor with greater fasting, which he sustained sometimes for three or four days sometimes for a week undiscontinued: nor by the power of his daily prayers: he mortified his naked body (as we have said) in the frozen waters up to the neck night and day. Neither did his rigour stay here, but that he might with more ease extinguish those coals of filthy lust which the wicked spirit suggested: following the example of our holy father saint BENEDICT, He ●ambleth naked in the briers. he threw himself naked into a thick brake of thorns and briers, and tumbling up and down therein, he miserably rend and tore his flesh rebellious against his mind, that by that means at lest he might oppress all sensual pleasure of the appetite, with the feeling of an outward pain. At length, after forty years, he got so absolute a victory over this foul tempter and firebrand of dishonesty, that either he was not assailed at all with any such filthy motions, or if he were, he easily repressed them with the only virtue of his prayers, and by the sprinkling of holy water. And thus much of the troubles and afflictions which the wicked spirits raised against saint GODRICK, for it were to long a thing to rehearse them all in particular. X. NETHER ought any one either to wonder that this pious man was afflicted with such grievous diseases, or assailed with these horrible deceits and vexations of the wicked spirits: since all these things, through his gentle sufferance and patience, increased and heaped up in his soul new treasures, not only of eternal reward and glory to come, but also of divine consolations, virtues, and many heavenly gifts and graces in this his temporal and transitory lise. With which the divine goodness so admirably ennobled him, that he might sing that verse of the Royal Prophet: A●●●raing to the multitude of my griefs, thy consolations have rejoiced my The wild beasts and serpents obey him. soul. Moreover, GODRICK obtained command and obedience not only over be wild beasts of the desert, but allsoe a great multitude of serpents that without any harm frequented his company, obeyed his desires: and these were not only to him unhurtful, but fawning in a manner upon him, remained with him in his cell, not without his consent: but lest their familiarity and aspect should hinder and distract the intention of his mind fixed in the meditation of heavenly things, he commanded all these vipers and serpents to departed, and no more to frequent his lodging. To which his command, as the wild beasts at other times had oftentimes done, so now the serpents most exactly obeyed. XI. FURTHERMORE, he was endowed with such a rare gift of His rare gift of prophecy. prophecy, that with the spiritual eye and light of his clear soul he saw thngs that were absent and distant in remote places, as plainly and distinctly as if they had been within the reach & sphere of his corporal sight: and at the very instant that many things were done in fare distant places he would faithfully relate them unto those that were present, as it was many times found by experience. And so often he foresaw and foretold things to come, that it were a great work to rehearse all the particulars. Amongst which one and not the lest was that he foretold what should befall unto saint THOMAS of Canturbury long before it happened. He foretelleth what should hap pen to S. Thomas of Canturbury For when that renowned bucklar of the Church flourished yet in great grace and favour with King Henry, GODRICK foretold that he should shortly lose that place, and be cast into banishment. And bade him withal to be of a courageous and manly resolution, and not to droop under the good cause which he had take in hand to defend; for it would come to pass that within seven years he should return to greater honour out of banishment then ever he enjoyed before. But the same year that saint THOMAS came out of banishment he sent a messenger to this holy Hermit to know what he should now expect after his long exile, and what would be the event of his tottering state that stood now almost out of all hope. To whom GODRICK (in the presence and hearing of our Author) answered, that a kind of verbal peace should be made between THOMAS and the king, before the end of the next six months following, and that within nine months more he should be restored to his archiepiscopal sea, which he should not long enjoy before a happy death (that should be to him healthful and glorious, and to the whole country profitable) did end the whole controversy between them. And at the same time this holy man He foretelleth his own death. foretold that the time of his own death should be within the space of the six months following. All which most certainly happened as he had foretold. For saint THOMAS returned, being made Legate of the Sea Apostolic, an honour which he enjoyed not before: and was crowned at his death with the glory of a most happy martyrdom. XII. BUT now of how great reverence and admiration is this to He hath the guiac of tongues. be esteemed in saint GODRICK, that both at other times, and principally at the sacred feast of Pentecost he was suddenly by a heavenly grace adorned with the gifts of tongues, which on that day was bestowed upon the Apostles, so that he both understood those that spoke Latin (of which tongue he was wholly ignorant before) and spoke many things in Latin very readily and distinctly. Again, He commandeth the waters how notable and excellent a wonder is this, that when the river Were with a mighty inundation overflowed all the adjoining country, and possessed places fare higher and stronger, yea overwhelmed and overturned many trees and houses: yet the humble and almost straw-built habitation of GODRICK was not touched with one drop of water, standing safe amongst those confused streams, to the great amazement of the whole country that judged him and house both to be buried together in destruction. An other time when the same river began furiously to run over the banks, he went forth, as it were to meet that inundation, and setting up a little Cross three paces from his poor Cell, he commanded those waters in the name of our Lord JESUS-CHRIST not to come beyond that mark: when it was strange to see the waters being come to that place swell up in height like unto a wall: so that his humble cottage stood upon a dry shore, entrenched round about with a bulwark The fire obeys 〈◊〉. or sconce of water. And in like manner as the waters, so did the fire likewise obey the voice of this holy man, when having furiously laid hold of his weak buildings it was suddenly deprived of its devouring force, and at his only command, ceafed from making any further spoil. He raised a dead man. XIII. AND now, if according to the dignity & worth of the matter, I should set down the holy cures of afflicted & lost persons which by miracle he performed, (in so much that he raised one to life that had laid three days under the cruel arrest of death) that alone would require a long discourse much exceeding the bounds of my purpose. Then which, his so great good exercised towards the souls of the dead (whom by his devout prayers, watches, fasts, and other holy works he delivered from the cleansing pains of Purgatory to the possession of the joys of heaven) seemeth to me to be a benefit fare greater and more to be admired. But above all these admirable works of GODRICK this holdeth the highest place in my opinion, that he was so divinely adorned with such an heavenly grace, that being yet in this mortal state, he understood and saw not only the soul of his fellow-champion (of whom we have already spoken) but allsoe the spirits of many other blessed men both rewarded with eternal glory, and received into the heavenly dwellings: And out of his divine manner of life which he led here on earth, he deserved to enjoy the company and conversation of Angels and other heavenly citizens, and especially of our great 8. CUTHBERT, S. NICHOLAS, the Prince of the Apostles S. PETTR, S. His familiarity with the Angels & Saints. JOHN Baptist, S. MARIE Magdalen, blessed MARIE the mother of CHRIST, yea and CHRIST himself, of whom he received many heavenly & ravishing consolations fare beyond the force of weak words to express: And namely by the blessed Virgin MARIE he was taught a divine canticle or song, which afterwards with great devotion he used oftentimes to repeat. This allsoe was a most wonderful and an unspeakable benefit shown him by S. PETER the Apostle, who celebrated the sacred mysteries of mass before him, S Peter giveth him the B. Sacrament. and having heard the Confession which GODRICK made of all his sins, gave him a general and an Apostolical absolution, and ministered the dreadful sacrament of the altar unto him. And when our Author came thither the same morning to say Mass, and demanded in honour of what Saint he should celebrate that divine mystery? Of the Blessed Virgin MARIE (answered Godrick) for before thy coming saint PETER the Apostle hath here offered the same sacrifice in honour of the most blessed 〈◊〉 But we should never come to an end if we eudeavour to lo●●● this paper with all the virtues, graces, and wonderful works of this Blessed man. XIV. THEREFORE, when he had lived in this admirable manner His last sickness. in one and the other desert for the space of threescore and six years, and was as an Oracle that astonished all England with his holy life, so great a swelling took possession of his face and all the other limbs of his body, that he appeared not to be like unto the former shape of a man. In his entrailes he endured a cruel griping pain, as it were of living worms which ran up and down his belly and consumed him. For which punishment (as heretofore for others more grievous) he gave humble thankes unto almighty God, that so gently he voutchafed to purge him from his sins in this world: And to good purpose (said he) do these worms consume my body in this life, that the neverdying worm should not gna● and tear my soul in hell. For the space of almost eight years he lay languishing in bed, being not able to rise but by the help of friendly hands. At length his sickness daily increasing, and having now almost conquered his old age, he sent for his brethren, who being come taken him out of his bed, and (according to the manner of those devout times) laid him upon the ground, on a haircloth strewed with ashes, put on his stamin and cowl (for long since he had been a Benedictine monk of Durham) and so that blessed soul departed happily out of the thraldom of this His happy departure. vale of miseries to receive the perfect consummation of that heavenly life with CHRIST, which he had begun in this world. And at the same instant was heard a most heavenly melody, ascending from his cell towards heaven. He died the one and twentith day of May, in the year of our Lord 1170. the same year that the worthy Archbishop of Canturbury saint THOMAS suffered martyrdom for the defence of the Church. His body was buried in the chapel of S. JOHN BAPTIST whom he ever worshipped with peculiar devotion, and in whose honour, by the commandment of God, he Miracles after his death. had caused that place to be built. Within the space of a few years after his death, two hundred & twenty eight miracles were wrought at his tomb, which are faithfully reported by the Author of his life, but for brevity's sake I omit them. XV. AND here now I will end the life of this admirable man with these words of William Camden in the description of the bishopric of Durham. At Finckley (said he) by the river Were in the reign of Henry the second, Godrick a man of ancient and true Christian simplicity, fixed wholly to God, lived and consummated a solitary life. Who gained so great admiration with this holy simplicity (add, and with the sanctity and austerity of his life, and many miracles before and A Church built to his honour. after his death etc.) that Richard brother to the wealthy bishop of Durham Hugh of Puteack, honoured his memory with a little Church built to his name. Thus Camden, who albeit he were an Heretic, yet could not but speak honourably of this glorious Saint. His life was written (as we have said) by one Nicholas a Monk of Durham, and spiritual father unto Blessed GODRICK, out of which, being a large history, Nicholas Harpsfield brings an abridgement saec. 12. cap. 45. whom we have followed: john Capgrave hath written the same, and William of Newberry lib. 2. cap. 20. Matthew Paris an. 1170. Matthew Westminster an 1171. Molanus in his additions to Vsuard, and all our English writers do make ample mention of him. The life of saint ALDELME Bishop of Sherburne and Confessor, of the holy order of Saint BENEDICT. MAY 25. Writrens by William malmesbury, and others. THE worthy ornament of the English Church and the Benedictine family Saint ALDELME borne of the royal stock of Saxon Kings (his father Kentenius was near of kindred to Jnas' King of the His noble parentage Westsaxons) with the generosity of mind, and greatness of learning and virtues fare excelled and outwent the nobility of his birth. Some affirmed him to have been son to Kentenius brother of King Jnas, but it pleaseth not us (saith Malmesbury) to avouch that for truth which seems rather to flatter a flying opinion, then agree De gest. reg. A●g. l 1, c, 2. with the soundness of true history, especially since it is not found written in antiquity, & the Chronicles plainly assever that Jnas had but one brother called Imgild, who died a few years before him. But S. ALDELME needeth not to be maintained with untruths, in whom abound so many famous things that are out of all question. Having passed over his Childhood, his father delivered him to be brought up in the study of all good learning under the discipline His youth and learning. of the most famous Benedictine Abbot of saint AUGUSTINS at Canturbury saint ADRIAN, who at that time happily adorned the whole country with all manner of virtue and learning. In his renowned school our hopeful ALDELME made in a short time so great progress in science, that he became a scholar worthy of so learned a master. Then returning back into his own country laden with the ballast of true virtue and learning, he courageously forsaked all the flattering allurements and vain splendour of the world, and resolved to undertake such a course of life wherein he should meet with the jest impediments to hinder him in the continual service of almighty God, and the study of holy learning. Therefore in the Benedictine abbey of Malmesbury (in which place He becometh a Benedictine Monk. from his very infancy he had been brought up, and instructed in the first rudiments of learning) he bid adieu to the world, and made profession of a monk under the holy rule of saint BENEDICT. This monastery was first founded by one Medulphus an Irish-Scott and a monk well learned in philosophy; and from him it was called Meidulphesbury, afterwards Malmesbury. Which being but a small slender thing, was by the means of saint ALDELME raised afterwards to great splendour and magnificence. II. BUT within a short time ALDELME returned to his old master into Kent, to better his understanding with more ornaments of true leaning and science; and there he remained until the weakness and discomodity of his health forced him to return into his own country. How great & worthy progress he made in learning, the His works, and writings renowned monuments which he left behind him do abundantly witness. Many whereof the envious injury of the times have rob us off. For, for these five hundred years past, that book of his, so much celebrated by Venerable BEBE, of the right and true manner of observing Easter, which he writ against the Britan's, hath not appeared. Which work of saint ALDELME was of great profit to many of them, to root out of their stubborn minds, that inveterate error. Saint BEDE hath allsoe in estimation his book of virginity, in which he writeth much in the praise of that heavenly virtue, and proves by the examples of the Saints that embraced it, that it is nether hard nor difficile to observe. In fine, saint BEDE S Bedes praise of S. Aldelme. adorns him with this testimonial of his praise; man most learned in all things, neat in his speech, and wonderful in the knowledge of Scriptures both liberal and Ecclesiastical. And surely S. ALDELME was the first of our contreymen that writ verses in Latin, as he himself doth testify in these two. Primus ego in patriam mecum, modò vit a super fit, Aonio rediens, deducam vertice Musas. First to my Country from the Romanhill. I'll bring, if life me last, the Muse's quill. Allsoe in compounding, pronouncing, and singing verses and Aldesmes skill in poesy and singing. songs in his mother-tongue, he was admirably excellent. And in King Elfreds' time (as the same King doth witness) many of saint ALDELMES' ditties were yet sung in England. One thing related of this purpose by King Elfred, is most worthy of memory. The people of those times being yet but rude rustics, and very negligent in the divine service, seemed to come to Church but for fashion sake (as many now adays do) where they made no long stay, but as soon as the mystery of mass was done, they flocked homewards without any more ado. Our prudent ALDELME perceaving this small devotion in the people, placed himself on a bridge over which they were to pass from Church to their Villages, where when the hasty multitude of people came (whose minds were A pious art. already in their beef-pott at home) he began to put forth his voice with all the musical art he could, and charmed their ears with his songs. For which when he grew to be grateful and plausible to that rude people, and perceived that his songs flowed into their ears and minds to the great pleasure & contentment of both, he began by little and little to mingle his ditties with more serious and holy matters taken out of the holy Scripture, and by that means brought them in time to a feeling of devotion and to spend the sundays and holy days with fare greater pro●●●● to their own souls. Now let us go on with the course of his life. III. THEREFORE when he had taken the habit and profession of a His exercises in the Monastery. monk, he bent all the forces and powers both of soul and body worthily to perform in deed what he promised by word. Wherefore he never moved a foot out of the Monastery, unless some urgent necessity did compelle him; he spent all his time in reading and prayer: that (as he himself doth testify elsewhere in an Epistle) by reading he might hear the voice of almighty God speaking; and by prayer, he might speak unto him himself. His diet was poor, and very sparing, thereby to force the body to the subjection of the soul: to which purpose he used an other wonderful austerity: For in a fountain near adjoining (which afterwards He reciteth the Psalter in the waters bore his name) he was wont by night (according to the example of the awcient Saints) to plunge himself up to the neck, whence he would not stir until he had recited over the whole Psalter of David for his nightly task of prayers. By which, and other such exercises he so tamed the sensuality of the flesh, that if he happened at any time to feel the tickling motions and stings thereof, he would not therefore, like a coward-souldier presently An example to be admired not imitated. avoid and fly from the presence of an object moving thereunto, until after many prayers and psalms most devoutly offered to almighty God, he found all that unclean motion of body to be utterly extinguished and beaten down. A rare, although to others, a dangerous manner of overcoming, and questionless much envied of the devils. But if any one chance to contend against the truth of this history in so Christian a philosopher, I remit him Dioge●. Laert. l. 4. de vit. philosoph to those profane writers who dare affirm of their Zenocrates, that having slept a whole night with the fair Phrine, he was enkindled with no manner of lustful heat, and proclaimed publicly the day following that he had lain with a statue and not with a woman. iv WHILST this holy man shined thus in learning and virtue, like a bright sun amongst the monks of Malmesbury, by the common consent of them all, he was chosen Abbot of the same monastery. He is made Abbot of Malmesbury. Which dignity was not so much an ornament to him, as he was an honour to it. For by his holy industry so great an increase of virtue and learning to his brethren, and of buildings, lands, and revenues was added to the monastery, that he may deservedly be esteemed as the father and builder of them. But the greatest donation of lands came chief from Elentherius Bishop of the Westsaxons, from Kenfrith Duke of the Mercians, and from the three good Kings Ethelred, Cedwall, and Inas; who all held saint ALDELME in great esteem and veneration by reason of his wonderful virtue; as manifestly appears by their charters and writings made to that Monastery for his sake, which I have read. He built allsoe the Monasteries of from and Bradford, which either by the cruelty of the Danes, or other such barbarous people, or else by the injuries of eating age have been destroyed many years ago. S. ALDELME whilst he was Abbot, writ that book, which we have spoken off, against the Britan's error in the celebration of Easter. He reduduceth the Britan's to the true Easter. For the matter being eagerly handled in many Sinods of the Westsaxons, to conclude by what means it was best to bring those erroneous people to the practice of the Catholic Church, some were of opinion that they should be compelled by force of arms, but the contrary and gentler opinion obtained, that not with the sword but by reason and disputation they ought to he dealt with. Nether was the victory judged to be of great difficulty if ALDELME did but take the matter in hand. He undertook it, and worthily and fruitfully performed it, as we have said before: So that the Britan's, next after God, are much obliged unto saint ALDELME in this behalf. Whose great piety towards them is allsoe honourably to be observed; because he exactly made his prayers unto almighty God for them, for whose amendment he writ, and his holy prayers took a fruitful and happy effect. V BUT amongst the rest this Blessed man built a Church to saint Note a miracle. MICHAEL the Archangel, and an other fare more magnificent to the Blessed Virgin MARIE: in which work he is reported miraculously by his prayers to have restored a beam that was too short, to a just length for the purpose, to the great astonishment of all that were present. And that which increased the miracle was, that all the rest of that Church being twice consumed with fire, that beam only remained without injury amidst those devouring flames. But now the renowned fame of saint ALDELME could not be contained within the bounds of the Ocean, it was passed over the seas, tran●ee●ded the Alpes, and entered into the Seauen-hilled City of Rome. Whither, being sent for by Pope Sergius, he went, and was very honourably received: where two memorable things happened. One was, that having said mass one day in the Lateran Church, he put off his vestment, which the servant neglecting to take, was miraculously sustained from falling in the sunbeams that shined through the window, on which it hung a while to the wonderful admiration of the beholders. And the same Vestment being brought to Malmesbury Abbey was preserved there until our Authors time; as allsoe a white marble altarstone, which being broken was made sound again by his prayers. And the other, that Pope Sergius being falsely accused of incest by some evill-minded persons of He freeth the Pope from ●nfam●e by miracle. Rome, saint ALDELME caused the child, to be brought into the presence, and commanded it in the name of our Lord JESUS-CHRIST to confess whether Sergius were guilty of the incest or not. When to the great amazement of all, and the utter confusion of the detractors, the child, that was scarce nine days old, spoke in the hearing of all the standers by, and plainly declared the Pope's innocence. Whereby saint ALDELME freed his friend from the imputation of infamy, and purchased an increase of love, favour, and admiration to himself. And these things are not only rehearsed for truths by our Author, and others whom it were a temereity to reject, but allsoe (which moves me more) these amongst other the like, were curiously engraved in the outside of the old chest in which his sacred relics were kept, long before our Authors time. VI THE Pope greatly honoured saint ALDELME for the foresaid He is made Bishop of Sherburne. benefit, and having liberally granted him very ample privileges and prerogatives for his monasteries, dismissed him to return into his Country. Where his fame daily increasing, he was at length found to be the worthiest to succeed Hedda bishop of Winchester, to whose government then all that Province was subject, which now is divided into four bishoprics; Cicester, Winchaster, Sherburne (afterwards translated to Salsebury) and Oxford. But Hedda being dead, it had two bishops, Daniel of Winchester, and S. ALDELME of Sherburne. To which dignity the more constantly and obstinately he resisted, the more eagerly and earnestly he was desired. At Canturbury therefore by the hands of BRITHWAID the Archbishop he was consecrated and ordained bishop of Sherburne. When going to Dover, he bought of some French merchants the new and old Testaments, a thing of venerable antiquity, which remained at Malmesbury until our Authors time. But walking then on the sea shore, the mariners, that petulantly derided and scoffed at the humility and poverty of the holy man, were suddenly, as they set out of the haven, taken with such a horrible tempest, that they were sooner in danger than they were ware of change. So that necessity and fear of death compelled them to acknowledge their fault, and call to saint ALDELME for help. Who entering He calmeth a tempest. into a boat to secure those distressed creatures, he had no sooner committed his holy body to the supportment of the waters, but the winds ceased, the sea was calmed, and those wretched mariners were delivered out of all danger. Afterwards saint ALDELME being returned to his episcopal Sea of Sherburne, he governed his subjects with all holiness of life, and learning, omitting nothing that belonged to the office and duty of a most holy and learned Prelate. And when he desired to have an other to succeed him in the regency of his monastery, his monks were so bend in affection to him, that during his life they could not be drawn to admit any other to be their Abbot. To whose will he yielded, because he knew not how to resist it, and granted that he being dead they and their successors in after ages might freely choose their Abbot according to the tenor and practice of saint benedict's Rule. Which decree of his was afterwards ratified by the authority of a Synod, and of holy King INAS. VII. AT LENGTH this blessed Saint, when he had worthily governed his bishopric for the space of five years, in the year of His happy death our Lord seven hundred and nine, gave up his pure soul into the pure hands of him who had created him for his glory. He died at a place called Doulting in Sommersetshire, in a poor wooden Church, into which he had caused himself to be carried being alive. Which being afterwards built of stone, when it was consecrated according to the Catholic custom, a blind woman running to the altar recovered her sight. Yea and at the stone on which he fate there at his death, many were cured of mortal diseases. That place was fifty miles distant from Malmesbury. But EGVINE the holy bishop of Worcester being admonished by a heavenly vision of the death of S. ALDELME, hastened ●o the place where his body was, and caused it to be brought with great pomp and solemnity to the Abbey of Malmesbury, and at every seven mile's end by the way where they rested Note the aune●●nt Pract●●e of setting up Crosses with those sacred spoils, he erected a cross of stone as so many monuments and memories of saint ALDELME. Which were afterwards made more famous, because many that flocked to them for devotion were wonderfully cured of diverse diseases: and these trophies, and benefits lasted to our Authors days. These and su●● like memorable wonders moved the King in the year of grace nine hundred forty nine, to cause his sacred relics to be enclosed in a very rich shrine, on the top of which stood a crystal with his name inscribed in golden letters. Till saint DUNSTAN miraculously foreseeing the ensuing destruction of all humane ad divine things His body obscured for fear of the Danes. which the barbarous Danes should bring to our wretched country, translated those sacred relics out of the rich shrine into a plain one of stone, lest perchance the splendour and price of the other might give occasion to have the relics taken away or injured. Nether was his divine prophecy false; for the Danish fury broke allsoe into the Abbey of Malmesbury. Where as one of that outrageous crew endeavoured to violate his sacred body, he suddenly lost his wits, which so terrified the rest of his fellow-robbers, that they had the wit to run speedily away: So that, when all the Churches and religious houses round about were made a prey to their fury, the Church of Malmesbury, by the help and patronage of S. ALDELME, remained inviolate. VIII. Now if any one desire more largely to know other strange Many mi racles wrought at his tomb. miracles which have been wrought by the merits of this glorious Saint, I refer him to the author of his life William Malmesbury, where he shall find the blind recover their sight, the lame their limbs, the dumb their speech: mad men restored to their senses, possessed persons delivered, and others oppressed with many other mortal diseases beyond the skill of physic receive their health, by the divine power of almighty God, and the intercession of glorious S. ALDELME. Of which kind some were done in the time and memory of our Author. Therefore Blessed Lanfranck Archbishop of Canturbury moved with the greatness of these and such like miracles, solemnly decreed that the memory of S. Aldelm● should be honoured amongst the other Saints of the Church, throughout the realm of England. But in the year of our redemption 1078. the thirteenth after the coming in of the Normans, all things being His body translated to its ancient 〈◊〉. now safe from the incursious of the Danes and other fears of spoling, by the hands of the Abbot Warine and Blessed OSMUND bishop of Sherburne, the sacred bones and relics of S. Aldel●e were restored into their ancient shrine that was so rich. From which time the number of many wonderful miracles increased daily more and more. His life was largely written (as we have said) by William malmesbury a very grave author, out of whom Nicholas Harpsfield sec. 8. cap. 11. relateth this History. The same hath allsoe been written by S. Eguine bishop of Worcester, and S. Osmund of Sarisbury of both which the injury of the times have rob us. Trithemius of the famous men of S. benedict's Order lib. 2. cap. 23. lib. 3. cap. 141. lib. 4. 175. Cardivall Baronius tom●. 8. an. 699. 705. and 709. and tom. 9 an. 734. Matthew Vestminster an. 704. and. 709. Camden in discript. Com. Wilton. and all Historiographers both English and else do make honourable mention of him. decorative device depiction of St. Augustine of Canterbury S. AUGUSTINUS. PRIMUS ARCHIEPISCOP, CANTVAR. Aplus Angli●●, Monachus Benedictinus. M. Ba●●. f. The life of Saint AUGUSTINE Apostle of England, Bishop and Confessor, of the holy order of S. BENEDICT. MAY 26. Written by Gotsellinus a Monk, and S. Bede. THE fruitful country of England, in times past called Britain, being oppressed and wholly subdued by the warlike power of the Saxons and other people of Germany, was compelled not only to receive and bear their governance, dominion, and name but also (which is much worse) to embrace their impious Idolatry and the service of their false Gods. So that the Christian Catholic religion which from King Lucius had flourished in that happy Island for the space of three hundred years, was miserably banished and destroyed. Till a hundred and forty years after, the eternal mercy of almighty God cast a fovourable eye upon our wretched country, and put such holy thoughts into the mind of saint GREGORY the Great, Pope of Rome, that although our country S. Gregory the great sendeth Augustine in to England. were fare distant, yet he embraced it with a pious affection, & seriously cast about, how or by what means, he might reduce it again to the sweet subjection of CHRIST'S holy Gospel. Which divine work when he himself (as is said in his life) could not bring to pass, he committed the charge thereof to this our glorious Apostle saint AUGUSTINE, who at that time was Prior of the Monastery of saint benedict's Order, which saint GREGORY bade built in Rome on the side of the hill Scaurus, and dedicated to saint ANDREW the Apostle. Out of this Monastery therefore, our saint AUGUSTINE (when he had led a holy monastical life under the rule of the great Patriarch of Monk's saint BENEDICT, for the space of many years) was called by great saint GREGORY from the sweetness of contemplation to labour for the advancement of God's Church in an active manner of life; and sent, together with other holy monks of the same Order, to preach the Gospel of CHRIST to the English nation. Who obeying the holy will of the Pope, undertook that great work, and began their journey towards Augustine beginneth his journey. England; and now they had passed over the frozen hills of Jtalie, and were entered into the confines of France, when understanding the English nation to be of a barbarous, cruel, and warlike disposition, and perverse in the profession of Idolatry, being terribly affrighted from their attempt, after a consultation had among themselves, they resolved rather to turn homewards again, then to lose their labours amongst those fierce and barbarous people, whose language they knew not. II. THEREFORE, setting aside all delay, the whole company sent He returneth to Rome. back AUGUSTINE to Rome humbly to obtain of the Pope in name of them all, to have an exemption from that journey so dangerous, laborious, and so uncertain of reaping any profit. To whom the holy Pope, burning with zeal to gain souls to the Church, sent letters of exhortation to encourage them in their holy enterprise, whereof this is the tenor. GREGORY servant of the servants S. Gregory's Epistle to comfort them in they journey. of God, to the servants of our Lord JESUS-CHRIST. Because it had been better never to have begun good works, then even in thought to fall from them being once begun, ye ought with all diligence (●moct beloved children) to accomplish the good work, which by the help of our Lord ye have undertaken. Nether let the labour of the journey, nor the tongues of slanderous men deter ye, but God being your ruler, perform with all instancy, and fervour, what ye have begun, knowing that a greater glory of eternal recompense followeth the greatness of your labour. But in all things be humbly obedient to AUGUSTINE your Prior to you returning whom we allsoe constitute your Abbot; knowing that through all things it will be profitable for your souls, whatsoever ye shall do by his admomtion. almighty God protect ye with his grace, and grant me to see the fruits of your labour in the everlasting kingdom: to the end that although I cannot labour with ye, I may have a place with ye in the joys of your recompense, because indeed I desire to labour. God keep ye in health my most beloved children. Given the third of the calends of August in the reign of our most pious Emperor Mauritius. Tiberius' etc. At the same time this most Blessed Pope sent letters allsoe to the Archbishop of Arles in France, wherein he commended sane AUGUSTINE and his fellows to be by his charity courteously received, and assisted in what was necessary for that holy enterprise. III. SAINT AUGUSTINE and his company being strengthened and encouraged with these pious lines of the holy Pope, joyfully undertook the journey, which before they so greatly feared. But coming to Angeow in France, being there much derided and scoffed at by the rude people of the Village and especially the women, for their poor habits and humble manner of carriage, they were compelled one night to take a hard lodging under a tree, in the open view of the heavens, where almighty God, who is never forgetful of his servants, by the prayers of S. AUGUSTINE sent them a clear fountain of water which miraculously sprung out of the earth, to quench the extremity of their thirst. Refreshed wherewith, they sung the praises of almighty God all that night; over whom, in the A pillar of light over the Saints. mean time, appeared a heavenly splendour which driven away the horrid shades of the night, to the great comfort of his servants, and confused amazement of those rustics that flocked thither the next morning, ashamed and sorrowful for their fault in so rejecting Gods servants. near unto the fountain S. AUGUSTINE writ these words in the earth: Here lodged Augustine the servant of the servants of A Church bu●● to S Augustine. God, whom the Blessed Pope Gregory sent to convert the Englishmen. Whereby the people understood who they were, and the cause of their journey, greatly repenting for their insolency showed towards them. And in the same place afterwards, a church was built in memory of S. AUGUSTINE, into which entrance was forbbidden to all women, because their sex had most of all injured the holy man in that place. But a rich Matron that by force, as it were, got into that Church presuming on her own guiltlessnes towards the Saint, by the miraculous and sudden loss of her own life, taught all men to believe, who before would believe no man, & she that thought with her presumption to overcome all, by her example gave a plain interdict to all, never to presume the like. But now let us follow our divine Legate AUGUSTINE entering the Ocean towards England. iv HAVING performed therefore all this long journey by land on foot, he now sails into the Ocean world of great Britain, till he arrived with his fellows to the number of forty at the Island of Kent called Tanet, which may worthily triumph that it was the first that received CHRIST in his legates. And in the rock that S. AUGUSTINE first set his foot, he left the impression of his steps as in a piece of wax, which place was of great devotion many years after. Having taken interpreters out of France, according to the direction of saint GREGORY, they marched into the land, carrying a silver Cross for their ensign, with the Image of our Saviour painted in a table, fing litanies as they went as well for their own health as for the salvation of those they came to instruct. Behold here (wretched England) in what manner thy first Apostles brought thee the first tidings of the true Gospel under the sacred banner of CHRIST'S holy An Apostrophe to England. Cross and Image, which since thou hast so oftentimes broken and defaced out of thy dominions, and which at this present by the greatest part of thy Inhabitants is held in so great scorn and contempt, that they will show more injury thereunto then to the picture of the poorest of their own ancestors. Canst thou think of this and not be ashamed at thy own madness? What hope canst thou have of remaining still in the same truth of Christian doctrine which they planted in thy land, since thou hast not only rooted out of thy bowels the sacred enfignes under which they brought thee the truth, but allsoe art become a cruel enemy to men of the same profession as were thy first Apostles and Preachers? How canst thou glory with the Apostle PAUL in CHRIST crucified, since so traiter ously thou destroyest the sacred Image of CHRIST crucified? How canst thou hope to be saved by CHRIST crucified, the image of whose memory thou seeketh to blot out of thy dominions? Return, return at length out of thy blindness, and reform thyself to the life and manners of thy glorious Apostle saint AUGUSTINE, who now marching with his company in the Catholic manner of procession aforesaid, expects to have audience of the King of Kent then called ETHELBERT, who kept his court at Ethelbert King of Kent. Canturbury the head city of that country, and who had dominion over all the land from thence to the river Humber in the North. This King had married a daughter of the royal blond of Erance called B●rtha, who coming of Christian parents, was given to him in marriage on condition to be let remain in the profession of Christianity. And this good Queen was now as a gate to these menssengers of CHRIST to lay open their way to the King. V THEREFORE saint AUGUSTYNE sent fit messengers unto King ETHELBERT to let him understand that he and his fellows were Augustine sendeth to Ethelberts' come from Rome sent by the universal Pastor of the Church, to bring the happiness of health and salvation to him and his people, if they would but yield to those blessed tidings. The King, in whom the royalty of a courteous mind seemed by nature to be incorporate, commannded them to expect him in the same I'll of Tan●t, and gave order in the mean time to have them provided with all necessary sustenance and entertainment. And after some few days he went himself in person to the Island to hear what news those strangers brought. Where sitting in the open air without any other canopy of estate but the heavens, be caused AUGUSTINE and his fellows to be brought before him; (for led with a vain and ancient superstition he had purposely refused to let them come to him in any house, lest they should deceive him with witchcraft.) But they, came not to charm him with any such devilish art, but to win him, being already charmed and blinded therewith, to Our first Apostles carried a Cross. the divine knowledge of almighty God, carrying a silver Cross and picture of CHRIST for their standard, and singing Litanies for the salvation of him and his people. Then after many wishes of health and happiness to the King, AUGUSTINE in a long speech discovered unto him the mysteries of CHRIST'S holy Gospel, and the everlasting joys that followed those that truly believed therein. To whom King ETHELBERT answered that indeed their words and promises were very fair, but because to him they seemed to be Ethelberts' answer to Augustine. new and uncertain, he could not so suddenly leave his ancient customs and ceremonies so long before observed in his country, to yield his consent unto their novelties. Notwithstanding (said he) because you are hither come out of a fare country, and with a desire (as it seems to me) to communicate those things unto us, which you yourselves judge to be in truth and worth the best, we will not be troublesome or offensive unto you, but rather entertain you with courteous hospitality, and see you provided with all necessary sustenance, not forbidding ye, in the mean time, by preaching to draw whomsoever ye can of this country to the profession of your faith and religion. VI THAN with the King's good leave, AUGUSTINE and his fellows went in procession to Canturbury the head city of Kent, Augustine marcheth to Canturbury. still carrying the Cross and image of CHRIST before them, and singing the Litanies; using amongst others, this pious form of prayer: When beseech thee O Lord in all thy mercy, to take away and withhold thy wrath and anger from this city, and from thy holy house, because we have sinned against thee: ALLELVIA. Humbly by this kind of confession putting themselves amongst sinners, whom they came to release from sin, and reconcile to almighty God. When this our Arch-Doctour leading his troop of Preachers under the triumphant banner of the Cross into the city which in future is to be his Metropolitan, did not the Angell-Guardians cry out to the citizens with those words of the Prophet Esay: Open the gates and let the just nation enter, observing the truth of their embassage; the old error of Isaiae. c. 29. v. 2. 3. Idolatry is gone, that from hence forth the peace of CHRIST and his Church may be here maintained. Here now the walls of Hiericho seemed to go to ruin, that the walls of Jerusalem might be built. Here on the ruin of paganism our holy Apostle first planted the Cross of CHRIST, and laid the foundation of the English Catholic Church. But o the heavenly and apostolical life that these holy monks AUGUSTINE and his fellows led in the mean Their holy ●●se in Canturbury. time, what pen is able to express? watching, and prayer was their only and chiefest exercise, always keeping their soul's most free from any the lest thought of worldly desires or cares. They announced the words of life to all they could, making their own lives so correspondent to what they taught, that in them those Idolaters might even with their eyes read a lesson of heavenly virtue and conversation, to see so many poor men so constantly announcing the Gospel of CHRIST, that they seemed to be most ready to suffer all adversities, yea and death itself in defence of the truth which they preached. But what followed these beginnings? Some few believed in JESUS-CHRIST and were baptised, admiring the simplicity of their innocent life, and the sweetness of their heavenly doctrine. VII. BUT in the East part of the city of Canturbury stood a See Heretic our first Apostles said mass. Church dedicated to Saint MARTIN, built in ancient times by the Romans, in which the Queen was wont to pray and receive the sacraments by the hands of her holy Bishop Lethard, who was allowed her for that purpose, and stood our Blessed Apostle S. AUGUSTINE in no small steed in the labour of preaching and converting the country. In this Church allsoe AUGUSTINE & his fellowmonkes executed their divine service, there they sung their Office, there they said Mass, there they prayed, there they preached, and baptised. When in the mean time by the divine power of almighty God, saint AUGUSTINE endued with a heavenly grace of working miracles cured all the sick and diseased persons that were either presented unto him or that he himself visited in person So that the people were thunder-stricken with amazement, at the sight of so great virtue, crying out that either men were transformed into Gods, or that the Gods in a humane shape were come to converse with men: whereby their hardness of heart being overcome, many were received into the fold of CHRIST'S Church. And at length King ETHELBERT also being astonished with so many resplendent signs of virtue, by the daily instancy and persuasion of S AUGUSTINE, by the continual prayers King Ethelbert is baptised. of the Church, by the affectionate admonitions of the Queen, abjuring the deadly powers of hell became a son of divine adoption in Christ. And now on the sacred feast of Pentecost, all the Saints of heaven highly rejoicing, and many troops of people flocking to that great solemnity, AUGUSTINE as a new SILVESTER baptiseth ETHELBERT as an other Constantine. In him our faithful David is anointed with the oil of joyfullnes, and meekly seated in a throne of mercy. Our Ecclesiastical Solomon is crowned with a diadem of peace in the chair of justice and wisdom. Our noble ETHELBERT descends from the state of his royal authority, and shows himself as a servant to the servants of CHRIST. A Prince of princes is changed to an Evangelicall Little-one: and a mighty commander of many people professeth himself a companion to the poor. AUGUSTINE rejoiceth, and much more his little Church, that now they had gained him to be their Patron, whom before they feared as a persecutor. Haec mutatio dextrae Excelsi: This is a change of the right hand of the most High. VIII. THE King therefore being baptised laboured himself to get The zeal of King Ethelbert all the Kings, Princes, Nobles and common people under his government to the subjection of the sweet yoke of CHRIST; making it the chiefest part of his own empire to dilate and propagate the Kingdom of Christ's holy Church. Whereupon great multitudes of people flocked daily to hear the word of God, and forsaking the blindness of their Diabolical rites, were purged in the sacred font of Baptism. Of whose faith and conversion the good King greatly rejoiced, yet compelled none by force to Christianity, but only embraced the faithful believers with a more strict affection, as his fellow-citizens of the heavenly Kingdom. For he had learned of the Doctors and authors S. August●●● 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 of England. of his own salvation, that the service of CHRIST ought to be voluntary, and not constrained. In the mean time, the holy master of our faith saint AUGUSTINE went to Arelas in France where by the hands of Etherius Bishop of the same place, he was consecrated Archbishop of the English nation, according as holy Pope GREGORY had preordained. Whom returning into England with this sacred dignity, King ETHELBERT received with triumphant joy, and made him now the Ecclesiastical Precedent of his metropolitan city in which before he had entertained him but as a guest; and ordained him the vigilant Guardian not only of that City, but allsoe of all the little world of his whole dominions. The throne of his own Kingdom he changed into a Bishop's sea, and his royal Palace by the reformation and consecration of saint AUGUSTINE, was turned into a sacred Church dedicated to CHRIST our Saviour, which to this day (but built in a fare more stately manner) retains the name of CHRISTS-Church, and is the mother and Metropolitan of all England. IX. BUT our new Apostolical Archbishop vehemently desiring to rejoice holy Pope GREGORY with the news of his happy success, S. Augustine consulteth Pope Gregory. presently after his return from Arelas, sent his holy fellowmonkes and Preachers LAURENCE and PETER to Rome, to make relation to saint GREGORY that the English nation had admitted the faith of CHRIST, and that he was made Bishop thereof: desiring allsoe to have his prudent counsel in many difficulties that did arise in the plantation of that new Church. The joy that the holy Pope received with the breath of this news, I leave to our hearts to imagine, for doubtless it was such that no tongue nor pen can express it. Then he sent back with these holy legates, more preachers and labourers into the new vineyard of our Lord: of whom the chiefest were these holy Benedictine Monks, Mellitus, Justus, Paulinus, and Ruffinianus: and by them all things necessary for the divine service, holy vessels, chalices, aultar-cloathes, ornaments for the Church, Priestly robes and vestments, many holy relics of the Apostles and martyrs, and great store of books. He allsoe dispatched letters to saint AUGUSTINE, in which he signifieth the sending of the pall unto him; insinuating withal after what manner he ought to ordain Bishops in England. Hear his Epistle. X. GREGORY Servant of the Servants of God, to his most reverend Pope Grego●●e ●e●ter● to S. August. and most holy Brother, Augustine Bishop. Although it is certain that the unspeakable rewards of the eternal Kingdom are reserved for those that labour ●or almighty God, it behoves us nevertheless to bestow on such the benefits of honour, that out of this recompense they may be encouraged to endeavour more abundantly in the exercise of their spiritual labour. And because the new Church of the English, by the peculiar bounty of our Lord and thy industry, is brought to the grace of almighty God, we grant to thee there the use of the pall in the performance of the solemnities of Mass only, so that thou mayest ordain twelve Bishops in diverse places, all to be subject The ancient use of the pall. to thy iurisaiction: because the Bishop of the City of London ought always hereafter to be consecrated by his proper Synod, and receive the pall from this holy and apostolic Sca, to which, by the authority of God, I serve. But to the City of York we will thee to send a Bishop, whom thou shalt think fit to ordain, only so, that if that city with the country adjoining ●hall receive the word of God, he may allsoe ordain twelve Bishops, and enjoy the dignity of a Metropolitan: because to him allsoe, by the help of God, if our life last, we resolve to give the pall; whom notwithstanding we will have to be subject to the disposition of thy Fraternity. But after thy death, August hath jurisdiction over all England. let him so preside over the Bishops he hath odayned, that by no means he be subject to the Bishop of London. But let this distinction be between the bishop of London and York, that he be accounted the first, who was first ordered. And with common counsel and peaceable dealing let them unanimously dispose those things which are to be handled for the zeal of Christ: let them judge rightly, and not perform their judgements with disagreeing minds. But let thy Brotherhood have jurisdiction not only over the bishops by thee ordained, & those ordained by the bihop of York, but allsoe over all the bishops and Priests of Britain, by the authority of God and our Lord jesus-christ. To the end that from the tongue and life of thy sanctity, they may learn the form both of rightly believing and well living, that executing their office with true faith and good manners, they may, when our Lord will, attain to the heavenly Kingdom God keep thee in health most reverend brother. Given the tenth of the Calends of July, in the ninteenth year of the reign of our most pious Emperor Mauritius Tiberius. XI. BY this Epistle it appeases how our holy Apostle AUGUSTINE What the Archbishops pall is, and meaneth. received the dignity of metropolitan Archbishop and Primate of of all England, and the pall, the chief arms of that dignity, used in ancient times to be sent from the Roman Sea to all Archbishops. But this pall (to satisfy the ignorant) is a little poor cloth in breadth not exceeding three fingers, which Archbishops going to the altar put about their necks after all other Pontifical ornaments: it hath two labels hanging down before and behind adorned with little black crosses; all rude and unpolisht, made of the very wool as it comes from the sheep's back, without any other artificial colour: and this, being first cast into the tomb of saint PETER, the Pope sends to those that are designed to be Archbishops. This ancient ceremony fignified chiefly two things: The first, that the Bishop shining and glittering at mass, in glorious robes adorned with gold & gems, looking upon the poverty of this cloth, should learn not to grow insolent with the greatness of his dignity, but cast off all high-aspiring spirits: The other, that he should diligently and exactly observe the s●me faith, which S. PETER taught at Rome (in whose tomb this cloth was thrown) and that which the other Bishops of the same sea have followed. This much by the way, be said of the pall. XII. BUT our foresaid holy legates being departed from Rome the blessed Pope GREGORY, sent letters after them worthy of memory, by which he manifestly sheweth with what an industrious & affectionate zeal he was carried towards the salvation of our country, O●her letters of S. Gregory. writing in this manner: GREGORY servant of the servants of God to Mellitus Abbot. After the departure of our Congregation which is with thee, we were held greatly in suspense, because we chanced to hear nothing of the prosperity of your journey. Therefore when almighty God shall have brought ye safe to the moct reverend man Augustine our brother, tell him, that I have long discussed with myself concerning the cause of the English: and am now resolved that the Temples of the Idols ought not The use of holy water in o●● first Apostles time. to be destroyed in that country, but let the Idols themselves only be demolished. Let holy water be made, and sprinkled in those Temples, let altars be built and relics placed therein: because if those Temples be fitly built, it is necessary that they be changed from the worship of devils to the service of the true God: that whilst the people themselves seeing their self same Temples undestroyed, may depose out of their hearts all error, and acknowledging and adoring the true God, may more familiarly frequent their accustomed places. And because their custom is to kill many oxen in sacrifice to their God; in this matter allsoe some solemnity must be changed that on the day of the dedication or the feasts of the Saints whose relics rest there, they build themselves booths and harbours of boughs about the same Church so changed from a profane Temple, and with religious banquets observe the solemnity therein: not sacrificing beasts to the ●●uill, but to the praise of God killing them for their own eating, and giving thankes to the Giver of all things for their plenty. For doubtless it is impossible, at once to cut of all things from such hard minds, because he that endeavoureth to climb to the highest place, must ascend by paces and degrees, and not by leaps. etc. These things therefore it behooveth thy charity to intimate to our foresaid Brother, that being present there in person, he may consider how to dispose all things. God keep thee safe most beloved son. Given etc. XIII. ALLSOE at the same time this boly Pope sent letters S. Augustine famous for great miracles. to saint AUGUSTINE himself, touching the miracles which he had understood were wrought by his means, in which he exhorteth him in these words: I know, most dear Brother, that almighty God showeth great miracles by thy Charity in that nation which he hath disposed to be elected. Whence it is necessary that thou rejoice with fear, and fear with joy for that heavenly gift. Thou mayest rejoice indeed, because by thy exterior miracles the souls of the English are drawn to an interior grace: But thou oughtest to fear, lest among those signs which are done, thy weak mind be raised in presumption of itself, and whence it is exteriorly listed up to honour, thence it fall interiorly through vain glory. For it behoves us to remember, how the disciples, when returning with joy from their preaching, thy said to their heavenly Master. O Lord in Luc. 10. thy name, the devils are allsoe subject unto us: They presently heard, Rejoice not for this, but rather rejoice that your names are written in heaven. For they had fixed their minds on a private and temporal joy, who rejoiced of their miracles: but they are recalled from a private joy to a general, from a temporal to an everlasting gladness, to whom it is said: Rejoice in this, that your names are written in heaven. For all the elect do not work miracles, and yet the names of them all are held written in heaven. And the disciples ought to have no joy but of that good which they have common with all, and in which they have no end of gladness. It remains therefore, most dear brother, that amongst those things which by the power of God thou A remedy against vain glory. dost outwardly work, thou do all ways exactly judge thyself interiorly, and curiously understand both who thou art, and how great grace is in that nation for whose conversion thou hast received the gifts of working miracles. And if at ame time thou remember that either by word or work thou hast offended our Creator, call always those things to thy memory, that the remembrance of thy own guiltiness may keep down the rising glory of thy heart: and whatsoever thou either shalt or hast received of doing miracles, impute it not as given to thyself, but to them for whose salvation they are bestowed. etc. XIV. MOREOVER the same blessed Pope sent an Epistle also to King ETHELBERT with many rich presents, endeavouring with temporal honours to glorify the King, to whom by his industry the knowledge of the Kingdom of heaven was arrived. In his letters he giveth thankes to almighty God for his conversion, admonishing and encouraging him with the example of Constantine the Great, to maintain and advance the profession of the Christian faith in his dominions. And amongst others he thus exhorteth him to follow the direction and counsel of saint AVGVS●I●E: Our S. Augustine pray said by S. Gregory. most reverend Brother and Bishop Augustine being tanght in the Rule of a monastery, replenished with the science of holy scripture, endued by the handiwork of God with good works, you ought willingly to hear; devoutly to perform, and carefully to keep in mind whatsoever he doth admonish you. Because if you hear him in what he speaketh in behalf of almighty God, the same god will sooner hear him making intercession for you. For if (which God forbidden) you contemn his words, how can almighty God hear him from you, whom you neglect to hear speaking for God? With all your heart therefore bind yourself with him in the fervour of faith, and help his endeavours with the power which God hath given you, that he may make you, partaker of his kingdom, whose faith you cause to be received and kept in yours. Therefore these and such other writings and Epistles of the most holy and zealous Pope saint GREGORY replenished King ETHELBERT with so great joy, that he was much more enkindled to the advancement of the Catholic cause, and the desire and love of heaven. Augustine buildeth a more nastery to the Apo●●● XV. BUT Saint AUGUSTINE when he had placed his Episcopal Sea at Christ's Church in Canturbury, and made it a perpetual habitation for himself and his successors, he allsoe built a Monastery by the means of King Ethelbert without the walls of the same town towards the East, dedicated to the Princes of the Apostles PETER and PAUL, which he adorned with many gifts and possessions, and ordained it to be the burial place of himself and all his successor-Bishops, as allsoe of the Kings of Kent: which Church notwithstanding was not consecrated by saint AUGUSTINE, but by S. LAURENCE his successor. The first Abbot of this Monastery was one PETER a BENEDICTINE Monk, whose life you may read the thirteenth of january. And this Monastery with the appurtenances was given, granted and confirmed to the Benedictine Monks by the royal charters of King ETHELBERT, whereof this is one. King Ethelberts' Charter to the monastery of S. Peter & Paul at Canturbery. I● the name of our Lord JESUS-CHRIST, be it known unto all men as well present as future, that I ETHELBERT by the grace of God King of the English, from an Idolater made a Christian by my Evangelicall father AUGUSTINE, have delivered by the same bishop some part of the land of my own right situate under the east-wall of the City of Canturbury, to wit, where by the same teacher in CHRIST I have built a monastery in honour of the Princes of the Apostles PETER and PAUL, and together with the same land, and all things which belong to the Monastery itself I have endowed with perpetual liberty: so that it may not be lawful nether for me, nor any of my successor-Kings, nor for any other person either Ecclesiastical or secular, ever to usurp any thing from thence, but let all things be in the free power of the Abbot himself. But if any one shall attempt to diminish or disannul any part of this our donation, by the authority of God, and of the blessed Pope GREGORY, & of our Apostle AUGUST as allsoe by our curse, let that person be segregated from all the communion of the holy Church, and from all the society of the Elect in the day of judgement. This land is encompassed with these bounds, etc. In the year from the Incarnation of Christ 605. Indiction the 8. Note the ancient manner of subscribing. ✚ I ETHELBERT King of the English have confirmed this donation with the sign of the holy Cross with mine own hand. ✚ I AUGUSTYNE by the grace of God Archbishop have willingly subscribed. ✚ I EDBALD the King's son have favoured it. ✚ I HAMEG●SILVS Duke have praised it. I HOCCA Count have consented. ✚ I AVG●●V●●DVS the secretary have approved it. ✚ I GRAPHIA Count have strengthened it. ✚ I PINCA have consented. ✚ I GEDDE have strengthened it XVI. THE second donation of King ETHELBERT to this monastery which may be seen in the ancient records of the same we here omit, fearing tun be tedious to the reader. Only one thing I will bring out of it, which is that after many privileges and exemptions given thereunto, the King following the tenor of the holy The M●nkes of Canturbury Benedictines. rule of saint BENEDICT saith these words: Let the Abbot himself that shall be ordained with the counsel of his brethren freely go 〈…〉 and order it (to wit the monastery) within and without according to the fear of God, that in the day of our Lord he may deserve to hear that 〈◊〉 voice of our most pious saviour, saying: Euge serve bone & fidelis quia in panca fuisti fidelis supra multa re constituam, intra in gaudium dominitui. also our holy Apostle saint AUGUSTINE in his own name and by the authority of Pope GREGORY granted a very large and ample privilege and exemption to the said Monastery, wherein he freeth it from all Episcopal subjection, but that according to the Rule of our holy father saint BENEDICT, the Abbot chosen by his brethren in the same Monastery should be consecrated by the Bishop not to his service, but to the ministry of our Lord etc. But the Benedictine The Benedictine Monks seated in Christ-Church at Canturbury. Monks from the beginning of Christian religion in England had not only the possession of this Monastery of laint PETER and Paul in Canturbury, but were allsoe seated in the Metropolitan sea of Christs-Church in the same city, as appeare● by holy Pope GREGORY'S, answer to the first question of saint AUGUSTINE. For when saint AUGUSTINE, among other things, had demanded how the Bishops should live and converse with their Clergy, and how many parts or portions ought to be made of those things which were given to the altar from the offerings of the faithful etc. S. GREGORY answered that the manner of the Apostolicque Sea was to give command to the Bishops, that of every stipend that fell to the Church ought to be made four portions or distributions, one to the Bishop and his household for hospitality, an other to the Clergy, the third to the poor, and the fourth to the repairing By the command of S. Gregory. of the Churches. B●● (adds the holy Pope) thy Brotherhood brought up in the Rule of a Monastery, because it ought not to li●e separated from thy Clergy in the Church of the English, which by the power of God is yet but lately brought to the Faith, must institute the same conversation which was with our fathers in the beginning of the primiti●e Church, in which none of them called a●●e thing his own of those things which he possessed but all things to them were common. By which words the most blessed Pope GREGORY enjoined a monastical & cloister life to be observed by saint AUGUSTINE, albeit a Bishop, together with his subjects, who professing religious poverty by possessing all things in common as saint GREGORY had prescribed, could be no other than Monks. Whence this manner of government was received throughout all England, so that in the Cathedral Churches which were Monasteries, the Bishop, who was always a Monk, presided as Abbot over the Monks, and lived monastically with them. Next to him was the Prior, who for distinction from other Priors, was call A Cathedral Prior, unto whom and the Convent of Monks always belonged the Election of the Bishop. And of this kind there appertained anciently to the Benedictine Nine Cathedral Churches in Englā●● belonging to the Monks. Monks nine Cathedral Churches in England: to wit; the Metropolitan Sea of Canturbury, the Churches of Winchester, Elie Norwich, Conentrie, Worcester, Rochester, Durham, and Bathe. Whereat the reader need not wonder, for the Benedictine Monks saint AUGUSTINE and his fellows having by the divine grace been made the first Apostles and converters of England to Christianity, were by good reason ever after the chiefest governors and rulers of that Church. The errors of the Britan●. XVII. IN THE mean time saint AUGUSTINE having by his continual labour in preaching much enlarged and increased the faith of CHRIST amongst the English, bend his endeavours to reform the Church and Bishops of the Britan's, who albeit they had remained in the profession of the Catholic faith ever since the time of King Lucius, yet was not their faith so pure but that it was tainted with some errors, and especially in the observance of Easter, which (contrary to the custom of the Catholic Church) they celebrated from the fourteenth of the moon to the twentith; and many other things they held, that were repugnant to the unity of the Catholic Church. Therefore saint AUGUSTINE, by the assistance of King ETHELBERT, summoned the Bishops and the learned men of the next Province of the Britan's to a parley, at a place called afterwards in the tongue of the English Saxons, by the name of Austens-Oke, in the confines of the Westsaxons. Where he began with a very gentle and fraternal admonition to persuade them to embrace the Catholic unity, and together Schismatics worse to be converted with him to undertake the common labour of preaching the Gospel of CHRIST. But he found by experience that it was easier to convert Heathens the Heretics. that had no knowledge of CHRIST or his Church, then to reduce Schismatics out off their errors to the truth. For after a long disputation, those stubborn Britan's would not yield nether to the prayers, exhortations nor rebukes of saint AUGUSTINE and his fellows; but rather preferred their own customs before all the Churches of the world united together in CHRIST: Therefore saint AUGUSTINE ended this laborious and long controversy, saying: Let us beseech almighty God to voutchafe to show by heavenly signs which tradition is to be followed, yours, or ours. Let a diseased person be brought in, and by whose prayers he shall be cured, let his faith and works be believed and followed of all. Which condition the adversaries unwillingly accepting, one deprived of all sight was led in, and placed amongst them. And when the prayers and labours of the Britan's could nothing avail towards his cure, saint AUGUSTINE compelled by a just necessity, S. Augustine cureth a blind man bowed his knees to the father of our Lord JESUS-CHRIST, humbly beseeching him to restore to that blind creature his lost sight, and by the corporal illuminating of one, to enkindle with his spiritual grace the hearts of many of his faithful. His prayer being ended, the blind man received his sight, to the great confusion of his adversaries, and comfort of those of his side, who with one voice extolled saint AUGUSTINE as the true preacher of the eternal light. And the Britan's themselves confessed against their wills that indeed the way of justice which AUGUSTINE followed was true; but yet they could not without the consent and leave of their country renounce their ancient customs. XVIII. THEREFORE they required a new synod to be summoned in which more of the learned men of their country might be present. Which being apppointed, seven Bishops of the Britan's, and a great A Synod held in England. number of the learned men (chief out of their famous Monastery of Bangor then governed by an Abbot called Dinoth) coming to the place of the council, went first to a certain holy and prudent man, that led an anachoreticall life in that country, to consult him whether they should yield to the preaching of AUGUSTINE, and abandon their own tradition? If AUGUSTINE be a man of God (answered he) why do ye not follow his counsel without any more delay? And by what means (replied they) can we prove this? It is written (said the other) Take my yoke upon ye, and learn of me, Math. 11. because I am meek, and humble of heart. If AUGUSTINE then be meek, and humble in heart, it is likely that he carrieth the yoke of CHRIST, and offers it to be carried by you also. But if he be proud, it is manifest that he is not from God, and that ye need not care for his speeches. And how (replied they again) can we be able to know so much? Be sure (said he) to let him come first to the place of the Council, and if he humbly arise at your entrance, know that he is the Servant of CHRIST, and to be of you obeyed; but if he contemn you, and disdaigne to rise in courtesy to you who are more in number, ye may boldly despise him too. What more? They did The Britan's contemn S. Augustine. as he commanded; when coming into the Synod, saint AUGUSTINE sat quietly in his chair. Which they no sooner perceived, but judging it to proceed out of pride, laboured to contradict him in all things: refusing not only to correct their ancient errors, but allsoe denying to receive him for their Archbishop; conferring with one and other; that if now he would not deign to rise to salute us, how much more will he contemn us if we become his subjects? To whom the holy man inspired He foretelleth their ruin. with the spirit of prophecy foretold, that because they refused to preach with him the way of life to the English nation, by their hands they should feel the revenge of death. Whose words the event proved true: for after the death of saint AUGUSTINE, Alfrid King of the Northumber's leading forth a great army against the headstrong Britan's, made a huge slaughter amongst them near unto the town now called West-Chester. But going to the battle, when he saw their Priests and a mighty troop of the monks of Bangor (where above two thousand lived The Britan's punished by the only labour of their hands) standing in a place of defence, and pouring out their prayers to almighty God against his success, he caused his soldiers first to set upon them; of whom (being wholly unarmed, and committed to the protection of one Brocmal who fled away with his fellows at the first encounter) were slain one thousand and two hundred, and the rest escaped by flight. Which done, he made head against the armed Britan's, when not without a great loss of his own army he utterly defeated. Whereby the prophecy of S. AUGUSTINE was fulfiled. XIX. BUT our most blessed Apostle saint AUGUSTINE leaving the rebellious Britan's to expect the coming of this foresaid punishment, traveled with his holy company to the City of York; preaching the Gospel of CHRIST as he went, and by the way he cured S. Augustin cureth the palsy. a wretched creature of a double disease, a palsy, and blindness not only of body but of soul too: for being by his prayers healed in body, he believed, and had his soul purged in the sacred font of Baptism. O most blessed man full of the spirit of God, who when occasion was offered was as powerful to work miracles for the salution, as to preach words for the instruction of his people! For what pen is able to express with how many shining miracles he illuminated the whole country in this journey? What tongue can number how many troops of Insidels, in the confines of York's and in all other places where he went, he added to the number of the faithful, and reduced into the should of CHRIST'S holy Church, when only in one day, and that on the feast of the nativity of our Lord, which the whole multitude of heavenly Angels doth perpetually celebrate, he renewed ten thousand men in the sacred baptism of life, besides almost an innumerable multitude of women and children. But what number of Priests, or other holy orders would suffice to baptise so great a multitude? Therefore having given He baptiseth ten thousand persons in one day. his benediction to the river Small, he commanded them all to enter, through which (it being otherwise fare too deep to wade) they passed to the other side with no less miracle then in times past the Jsraelites through the red sea, and as they went they were baptised by the holy Father of our Faith saint AUGUSTINE in the name of the holy Trinity. A most straying spectacle! In that so deep a bottom, in so great a throng and press of people, in such a diversity of age, sex, and condition, not one was lost, not one was hurt, not one was missing. And which is most of all to be admired, A strange miracle. all that laboured with any infirmity or disease of body, left that allsoe behind them in the water; and every lame or deformed person came out whole and sound. O most pleasant sight! O admirable spectacle worthy to have Angels spectators, when so many thousand fair faces of the English nation came out of the belly of one River, as out of the womb of one common Mother, and out of one channel so great a progenic was borne and derived to the Kingdom of heaven. Hereuppon the most blessed Pope GREGORY Lib. 7. c. 30. bursting out in joy together with the heavenly citizens, could not hold but make his pen the trumpet of this admirable accident, in an epistle written to Eulogius Patriarch of Alexandria. And in A church dedicated to S. August. perpetual memory of the fact, a Church was built by the same river, and dedicated to our wonderful Baprist saint AUGUSTINE, in which the petitions of the faithful were miraculously heard and granted. XX. RETURNING again from Torke, by the way he cured one of a most horrid leprosy by making the sign of the Cross and calling upon his divine name that cures all diseases. But coming into the County of Dorsett all ways announcing CHRIST'S holy Gospel, His adversaries justly punished. he arrived at a Village where the wicked people not only refused to obey his doctrine, but very impiously and opprobriously beat him and his fellows out of their Village, and in mockery fastened Fish-tayles at their backs: which became a new purchase of eternal glory to the Saints, but a perpetual ignominy to the doers. For it is reported that all that generation had that given them by nature, which so contemptibly they fastened on the backs of these holy men. And saint AUGUSTINE having left these wicked people to carry the marks of their own shame, and traveled with his holy company about five miles further through desert and habited places, being cruelly oppressed with the three familiar discomodities of travellers, hunger, thirst, and weariness, he that sat upon the fountain wearied with his journey CHRIST JESUS, vouchsafed to appear visibly unto him with words of heavenly comfort and Christ appears unto him. encouragement. Then the holy man being refreshed with the sweet fountain of eternal life, fell presently upon his knees and adored the place of CHRIST'S footsteps, and striking his staff into the ground, there strait sprung forth a clear fountain of crystal streams, in which all his fellows quenched the extremity of their thirst, and gave infinite thankes to almighty God, who had vouchsafed to help them in that necessity. And the same place The monastery of Cernell. was afterwards called CERNEL, a name composed of Latin and He brew, for Cerno in Latin signifies to see, and El in Hebrew signifies, God, because there our holy Apostle AUGUSTINE was honoured with the clear vision of him that is true God and man. Moreover upon the some fountain in memory here of a chapel was built dedicated to our Saviour, which together with the fountain my Author had seen, and the water cured many diseases. Afterwards one Egelward a rich man founded a fair Monastery of Benedictine monks in the same place, dedicated to saint PETER the Apostle which was called the monastery of Cernel and dured to the last fatal destruction of abbeys in the unfortunate reign of Henry the eight. XXI. BUT Saint AUGUSTINE having traveled over the greatest He returneth to Canturbury. part of England like a true Apostle always on foot, and by the virtue of his preaching and miracles converted infinity people to the faith (so that be may deservedly be called our Apostle, who not only laid the first foundation of Catholicque religion amongst us, but by his own preaching lightened almost all the whole Island) he returned to his perpetual and Metropolitan seat of Canturbury, where he was received by the people as the angelical messenger of their peace and happiness, with great joy and triumph. When a troop of diseased persons flocking about this divine Physician, behold a threefold wretched creature, bound with a triple chain of calamity was presented. He was lame of both his legs, dease, and dumb. His prayers were sighs, his words bellow, and his discourse, signs. But saint AUGUSTINE heard him that could not speak, spoke to him that could not hear, and directed him that could not go. For in the name of the blessed TRINITY he gave that thrice miserable wretch a threefold cure. So that he was able to He cureth one lame, deaf, and dumb. 〈◊〉 firmly, to speak plainly, and to hear distinctly. But he, overioyed with his new received health, became so vainly merry, that with his troublesome tongue newly taught to speak, he molested the whole Church and people with babbling, even in the time of the divine office, so that for punishment he suffered a relapse into his former misery, till having done worthy satisfaction for that fault, he was again released by the powerful prayers of S. AUGUSTINE and together with the outward health of body, he was restored also to the stableness of a more settled government of mind in his soul. The testimony of an old ma baptised by Augustane. XXII. HERE it shall not be amiss to set down the attestation of a very old man that lived in my Authors time, who affirmed that his grandfather had been baptised by saint AUGUSTIN, and had often seen the holy man encompassed about with troops of people preach and work many miracles. He had learned allsoe from his father and grandfather the form of body of saint AUGUSTINE, and that he was of a very maiesticque person, and in stature tall: and that his grandfather having been baptised by the hands of the holy man lived many years above an hundred, and the blessing of old age descending likewise to his father, and from his father to him, who now when he made this relation had long outlived an hundred years. Thus this old man. But now our holy Apostle being wholly wounded with the love of heaven, and aspiring to nothing more than out of the tumults of this world to attain to the eternal rest of our Lord, knocked daily at the heavenly gates with the continual peals of his prayers, sighs, and tears, desiring to be dissolved to live with CHRIST. Till at length understanding by divine revelation that his desire was heard, and that shortly he should be delivered out of the thraldom of the flesh, he solemnly in presence of the King and all his court, ordained the holy monk and his chief fellow-preacher saint LAURENCE to succeed him in the Sea of Canturbury, as in times past the Prince of the Apostles saint PETER apppointed CLEMENT for his successor in the Roman Primacy. For long before he had made MELLITUS bishop of LONDON (by whose means the country of the East-Angles was converted) and JUSTUS his suffragan in Rochester. So that almost all the dominion of King ETHELBERT (which reached from Canturbury to the river Humber in Yorkshire) was wholly converted to Christianity by the labours of these holy Benedictine Monks saint AUGUSTINE and his fellows. XXIII. BEHOLD now, o thou blessed Archparent of the regeneration An Apostrophe to S. Augustine. of the English nation, by leaving thy stately Mother Rome, thou hast gained England for thy Daughter, whom thou mayest nourish as a fair spouse for the King of heaven. Now after the journey of the great world, thou hast taken this other world of the vast Ocean, breathing a most fair and temperate air, most pleasant and fertile with fields, meadows, pastures, brooks, rivers, and seas, most grateful with woods, hills, and plains, most abounding with populous towns and foreign merchandise, most famous for fair people, wealth, and riches. This huge and goodly Island was long since destined for thee his elect Agent, by the divine providence of the mighty creator of all things, who from the beginning having made the world perfect in beauty gave it into the possession of man his creature. This nation so fair in face, but black in soul with the filth of Idolatry, being by thee washed in the waters of Jordan, ascendeth wholly pure and white, as the Blackmoore woman by Moses. Now to the greater glory of God and thy own crown, that new pillar of light which led the Israelites out of Egypt being erected in the faith and Cross of CHRIST, thou leadest us Heathens out of the Egyptian darkness of infidelity and out of the shades of death, into the true land of promise flowing with milk and honey. For to thee, as our Apostolicque Captain, the divine grace of the Gospel gave that which was denied to Moses the lawmaker of the jews; and that which he could not obtain in the law, thou art found worthy to accomplish in JESUS-CHRIST the End of the law. Now out of the spoils of the fettered Tyrant, and out of the Kingdom of the captive spoiler of our souls thou shalt make our God a Kingdom and a people of purchase; now next to the heavenly Kingdom and those unspeakable rewards of thy labours, this country shall be thy perpetual possession which by thee was purchased and gained to CHRIST: and whose temporal commodities thou hast forsaken, thou shalt now possess the hereditary gains. And being seated in the high towers of Paradise thou 〈…〉 jest, as an holy sentinel, perpetually watch, and defend the whole country dedicated to thy honour and glory. XXIV. AT LENGTH this most victorious Champion of our Lord having run the race of this mortal life in all sanctity, and perfection His last 〈◊〉. of conversation, having laboured in the conversion of our wretched country with continual and un wearies diligence, care, and industry, came to the goal and long desired rewards of the heavenly Kingdom. Now our Lord knocking at the gates of his soul with sickness, he willingly opened with great and unspeakable thanksgiving. Then with a courageous affection of a fatherly love he exhorted as well the King, Queen, and princes, as the Clergy and people allsoe, inviolably to remain in the fear and service of almighty God, to obey the divine precepts and observances proposed and preached unto them by his Servants. Which done, the end of his worldly tempests approached, and the bright morning of his eternal joys appeared: and having given his benediction to the King, and confirmed the infancy of his newborn Church in CHRIST, leaving unto all many holy pledges of his perpetual love, and documents of his pious fellows and disciples, in presence of S. LAURENCE his successor and a populous multitude of people, he gave up his blessed soul into the hands of him that had created 〈◊〉 happy dea●●. it for his honour, and in the triumph & glory of the heavenly citizens he was received into the ever lasting bliss of all blessedness: the 26 day of May, about the year of our Lord 614. His sacred body was first buried without the Church of saint PETER and saint PAUL, which me spoke off before, and which was not yet finished nor dedicated. But soon after it was consecrated by saint LAURENCE, and his body was honourably buried in the north Porch thereof, where the bodies of the Archbishops his successors were allsoe buried, until the place would hold no more. Over Saint AUGUSTINE'S tomb was written this Epitaphe in pro●e. Here resteth Lord Augustine the first Archbishop of Canturbury, who His Epitaphe. being in times past sent hither from blessed Gregory bishop of the Roman City, & sustained by God with the working of miracles, brought King Ethelbert and his co●●trey from the worshipping of Idols to the ●●yth of Christ and the days of his office being finished in peace, he died the seam●●th of the Calends of june, the same King reigning. XXV. THE miracles wrought at is tomb are such, so many, and Miracles at his tomb. so great that they would require a whole volume fare beyond the limits of our purpose. Gotzeline the Author of his life whom we follow maketh mention of very many, it shall suffice us to relate one or two briefly. When the Danes were outrageous in England, the Benedictine Monastery of saint PETER and S. PAUL without the walls of Canturbury, which was afterwards called Saint Augustine's, became allsoe a part of their prey. But one of them as he endeavoured to steal the cloth that covered S. AUGUSTINE'S Tomb, it stuck so close to his hands as if it had been his own skin, till having asked pardon of the Saint, he restored it again to the place. Which miracle clothed him and many of his fellows with the white robes of Christianity, and made them devoted to saint AUGUSTINE ever after. Canutus King of the Danes and English being Canutus freed from shipwreck. at sea in imminent danger of shipracke, calling upon saint AUGUSTINE for help (whose patronage he had oftentimes proved most comfortable) the fearful tempest ceased, and he arrived quietly to a secure haven: and coming afterwards to the tomb of his holy Patron, with the royalty of many grateful rewards and praises of thankes, he witnessed the great favour he had received. The Speech restored to the Dumb. same benefit was bestowed upon many others in the like case, that called to this holy Saint for aid. A young girl that (by I know not what mischance) was strucken dumb, when all art of physic had been foiled in curing her, offering a candle at saint AUGUSTINE'S tomb, and in heart recommending herself to his merits, perfectly recovered her speech. And the same favour was showed to an other of her sex praying in the same place. In a word, all manner of diseases were cured at his holy relics, to those that humbly and religiously craved help. And as to such he was always mercifully indulgent, so those that endeavoured to wrong him, his tomb, or his Church, escaped not the divine punishment. XXVI. BUT O England, England, how fare art thou swerved An Apostrophe to England. Thren. 4 v. 1. from the religion of this thy first Apostle? How is the gold made dark, and the best colour changed of thy first Faith and charity in JESUS-CHRIST? In times past thou didst learn that Faith (only which is the beginning, head, and foundation of eternal salvation) of those that were Catholic Roman Priests and Monks, whom now thou dost persecute; they celebrated the dreadful solemnities of Mass, which now thou abhorrest; they honoured and called upon the Saints in heaven, whom thou despisest; they acknowledged the supreme authority of the Bishop of the Roman and Apostolicque Sea, whence they were sent to deliver thee out of the blind night of Idolatry to the bright day of the true Christian faith, by thee then piously and dutifully received, heard, and retained, and now, like a degenerate child, being fallen from the obedience of thy mother-Sea of Rome, like unto a ship without a stern thou art blown and tossed in the deeps of the mysteries of Faith, with every wind of erroneous doctrine, being not able to steer into the haven of any settled and well-grounded opinion. Again therefore I repeat those words of the Prophet: How is the gold make dark, and the best colour changed? In very deed thou hast now left thy first faith Thren. 4. v. 1. Apocal. 2. v. 4. 5. Serm. 92 and charity. Remember therefore whence thou hast fallen, and do penance, and perform thy first works. It is now in vain and unnecessary for thee to dispute of matters of religion. Saint AMBRISE assures thee as much. We must know (saith that holy Doctor) that not without great danger we doubt of the truth of that religion, which we see confirmed with the blood of so many great men. It is a matter of mighty danger, if after the Oracles of the Prophets, after the testimonies of the Apostles, after the wounds of the Martyrs, thou presume to discuss the anncient saith as new, and after so many manifest guides thou remain in error, and after the sweats of so many dying teachers thou contend with an idle disputation. Therefore (my beloved country) I beseech and conjure thee by the bowels of our Lord JESUS-CHRIST, thy dear redeemer, to consider well this sentence of the Prophet Jeremy: Stand upon the ways, and behold, and inquire of the ancient jer. 6. 〈◊〉 16. paths, which is the good way & walk in it; and ye shall find a refreshment to your souls. The holy Benedictine Monk saint AUGUSTINE who came to thee from old Rome taught these ancient paths in CHRIST-IESUS, he shown thee the true way, he shined in thy dominions with many heavenly signs and miracles, as so many unresistable witnesses of the truth, he with his holy labours rooted up-the impious stocks of Idolatry out of the hearts of thy people, and planted there in the Christian faith which he watered with his own sweats and tears. Insist in his ways, follow his footsteps, walk in his paths and thou shalt find both in this, and much more in the world to come, a sweet refreshment for the souls of thy people. That way which of late the Apostata Luther, Caluin, or Beza began to lay in the world, was never trodden either by the steps of saint AUGUSTINE thy Apostle, or any other of his holy fellow-preachers, but leadeth thee, if thou walk therein, the high way to perdition. Return therefore to the counsel of the Prophet above said: State jer. 6. v. 16. super vias, & interrogate de semitis antiquis quae sit via bona, & ambulate in ca, & inueni●tis refrigerium animabus vestris. God of his infinite mercy give thee grace once again to find the right way to him that is Via, Veritas, & Vita, the way the Truth, & the life, who be ever glorified and praised in his Saints. Amen. The life of S. Augustine is written very largely by Gotzelinus a Benedictine Monk, the manuscript whereof we have, out of which, and Venerable Bedes history of England we have taken it. The same is written by many other authors, as joannes Anglicus, john Capgrave, & by S. Bede himself in a large volume apart. The mouths of all our English Historiographers are full of his praises. God make us all partaker of his merits. decorative device depiction of the Venerable Bede VENERABILIS BEDA PRESBYTER LT MONCHUS ORD●… S. Benedicti. May. 27. Mart. ba●. f. The life of Saint BEDE Priest and Monk of the holy order of Saint BENEDICT MAY 27 Gathered out of diverse grave Authors. AMONGST all the famous and holy men which have ever flourished in England, and with which almighty God hath adorned our sometimes happy Island, saint BEDE in the excellency of learning both divine and humane doth deservedly carry away the prize; whom for this we may worthily call the Phoenix of his time, that lived in an Island separated from the rest of the world. He was borne in the northern parts of England within the Bishopric of Durham, in a little Village called jarrow, not fare from the place where the river Tine falls into the main Sea. His parent's albeit The place of his birth, and Pare●●s. they were not famous for riches or Nobility in the country, yet was their stock more worthily ennobled by BEDE, then by the greatest nobility of blood or descent, and not their country only but the whole world was more enriched by this holy treasure of their race, then by the greatest wealth that could be imagined. For, A Homer borne of an ignoble Spring, Is Nohler then an Irus from a King. Our Sainst BEDE then like unto an other Samuel, had no sooner learned to speak, and outgrown his infancy, but he was dedicated to the temple of our Lord. For at the age of seven years, by the care of his friends and Kindred he was delivered to the virtuous school of S. BENNET Bishop in the Benedictine Monastery of Weremouth, which the same Abbot had built. Being planted therefore At seven year old he is given to the divine service. in the house of God from his very infancy, and watered with the fountain of divine grace, like unto a fair palm-tree he grew to the height of perfection, and sent forth daily fruits and flowers of justice, and learning, announcing the truth and mercy of almighty God with word, work, and example. For being amongst holy men, and by holy men nursed and trained up in the school of monastical discipline, and good learning, passing over the course of his age piously with the pious, and innocently with the innocent, he endeavoured with all his power to preserve himself unspotted from the vanity and corruption of the world. II. HE happened into the happy and golden times of the two most learned Benedictines, THEODORE Archbishop of Canturbury and ADRIAN Abbot of saint AUGUSTINS in the same city, in whom was an equal contention between the excellency of learning and holiness of life. Under these holy masters our BEDE became so great a proficient in laying the foundation of all learning humane and divine, that afterwards, what with his own daily study and diligent labour, both proceeding from a sharp wit and sound understanding, he attained to that height of perfection, that he excelled all the learned men that England could ever boast off. From His naturull inclination to learning. his very infancy he was extremely addicted and delighted with the pureness of an innocent life, and the study of good sciences, that he seemed, as it were, by the weight of his own natural inclination to be drawn and carried to virtue and learning. And together with those natural seeds of virtue planted in his soul, there shined allsoe in him, beyond the force of humane wit, a certain divine beam of the assistance of the Holy Ghost. He never went to his studies but from his prayers, and seldom to his prayers but from his studies. For whatsoever time he had, that was free from his daily exercise of monastical discipline, and from the continual care of watching, singing, and praying night and day in the Church, he was wont wholly and most diligently to spend in the study of good learning. Whence it came to pass, that with this diligence of a greedy wit, he searched and pierced into the secrets of almost all sciences. For beginning His ski● in the liberal sciences. from the first rudiments of learning, he was most ready in the Greek and Latin tongues; most elegant in Poetry and Rhetoric; most subtle in Logic and Metaphysic; admirable in Astronomy and the Mathematics, most exact in Arithmetic and Church-accompts, most conversant in history, and most excellent in all the liberal sciences, Philosophy and Devinitie. In a word, he exactly learned, sound understood, firmly retained, and clearly taught all good arts and knowledges, that I may boldly say, that not only England, but the whole Christian world in that age could find but few to him comparable, and not one that went beyond him in learning. This many learned Historiographers do testify: this, his own deeds, and the books which he writ so full of all good learning do manifestly avouch. III. To the age of thirty years he lived under the tutorship and obedience of his masters, the two forenamed Lights of Canturbury S. THEODORE and saint ADRIAN, and S. JOHN surnamed of Beverley bishop of York, all three bright ornaments of the Benedictine Order, & therefore the fit under whom S. BEDE a Benedictine might suck the sweet milk of Religion and learning. Afterwards being by the command of his Superiors made Priest, he applied himself to teach and write. And first at the entreaty of Acca Bishop, and the desire of the Brethren of his Monastery, he began to make commentaries upon all the holy Scripture. But let us hear his own most modest testimony of himself, and how sweetly the holy Ghost speaks in him; let us experience how finely his words come from him. In the end of his History of England, before the catalogue which he made of his own works, he hath this ensuing epilogue; which because it contains an abridgement of his whole life, we do more willingly set down. Thus much (saith he) I Bede the servant of God, and Priest of the S. Pedes testimony of ●●msel●. Monastery of the Blessed Apostles Peter and Paul which is at Weremouth and jarrow, have by the help of our Lord gathered of the Ecclesiastical historic of the Britan's and chiefly of the English nation, according as I could learn it, either out of the writings of the Ancients, or by the tradition of our Ancestors, or out of mine own knowledge. Who being borne in the territory of the same Monastery, when I was seven years old, by the care of my friends and Kinsfolks I was given to be brought up to the most reverend Abbot Bennet, and afterwards to Ceolfrid; and from that time, spenaing my whole age in the same Monastery, I applied all my endeavours to the study of Scripture: and between the observance of regular discipline, and the daily care of singing in the Church, I was always delighted either in learning, or teaching, or writing. But in the nineteenth year of my age I took deacons hip, and the degree of Priesthood at the thirtieth, both by the ministry of the most reverend Bishop john, and the command of Ceolfrid Deacon at 〈…〉 teen, & Priest at thirue, Abbot. From which time of Priesthood received, to the nine and fiftith year of my age, I have been careful to make these brief annotations upon the holy Scripture, for the necessity of me and my brethren, out of the works of the Venerable Fathers, or to add somewhat over and above, to the form of their sense and interpretation. And having here set down the number of thirty six volumes which he had written in seventy eight books, he adds these words: And I beseech thee, O good jesus, that on whom thou hast mercifully bestowed to conceive the words of thy wisdom and knowledge, to him thou wouldst out of thy bounty allsoe grant to come at length to the fountain of all wisdom, and for ever to appear before thy face, who livest and raignest God, world without end. Amen. Hereunto he adds an Epilogue to the Reader, which worthily sets forth his rare virtue of humility, in these words: I humbly entreat all of our nation to See his great humility. whom the reading or hearing of this history may arrive, that they would often remember to make intercession to the supreme clemency for my infirmities both of bo●ie and soul; etc. Here our wit fails us, and words are wanting; not knowing, whether to praise first the great number of his books, or the sweet modesty of his speeches, that doubtless almighty God had infused him with a large draught of his divine wisdom, to make him able to enrich the world with so many volumes, in so short a time, a midst the continual exercise of the monastical rule and discipline of the monastery. iv BUT now the fame of his learning was so renowned and memorable, that many flocked unto him, as unto an Oracle to learn Many flock to his school. the liberal sciences, and to be instructed in the more difficult places of holy Scripture: in so much that the monastery of Weremouth became an university of learned Benedictine Monks, where all arts and sciences divine and humane, were taught. And all by the means of saint BEDE, in whom lay hid so great a treasure of learning, wit, and wisdom, that each one might take as much as he was able to comprehend, and he remain nothing poorer. Others, that could not in person, consulted him by letters, desiring the exposition of such hard questions of the Scripture, as their own understanding could not reach to. Nay so famous and renowned was the The fame of his learning. name of this holy Doctor, that the Ocean was to weak a bound to contain it; it was blown to the head of the world, Rome, whose lofty magnificence wanted the Counsel of our BEDE, for the discussion of the more difficult points of religion. But that he went ever to Rome, I dare not avouch, it is more probable that he did not, but sure we are that he was sent for by Pope Sergius, as this Epistle doth testify. Sergius Bishop servant of the servants of God, to the religious Abbot Pope Sergius his Epistle. Ceolfrid, health and Apostolical benediction. With what words or means can we praise the clemency and unspeakable providencie of our God and give him worthy thankes for his immense benefits bestowed, who bringeth us that were seated in the darkness and shades of death, to the divine light of knowledge. And a little after: Therefore because of some questions of Ecclesiastical causes risen, which can no longer be left without examination, we have need of learned men to conserre with, we exhort the godly and He is sent for to Rome. beloved goodness of thy piety, that as it becomes a devout maintainer of our holy mother the universal Church, thou fail not to lewd obedient devotion to this our desire, but without any delay send the religious servant of God Bede the Venerable Priest of thy monastery to the shrines of the Princes of the Apostles Peter and Paul thy lovers and protectors, and to the sight of my meaunes: and by the grace of God, and thy holy prayers thou needest not mistrust but that he will return safely again unto thee, after the celebration of the foresaid articles by the help of God are finished. For we hope it will be profitable to all under thy charge whatsoever by his worth shall be made famous, and imparted to the whole Church. V BUT doth not this greatly redound to the praise and honour of our saint BEDE, that the Roman greatness should desire his counsel in matter of learning, who lay hid in a poor cowl and cloister in the farthest corner of the world? Surely William De gest. Reg. Ang. l. 1. c. 3. Malmesbury judged aright when he calls him, A man whom one may with more ease admire then worthily praise, who borne in the furthest corner of the world, dazzled all countries with the lightning of his learning. Nay more, his writings were of so reverend esteem and authority in the Christian world, that during his life time (first by the ordnance of an English Synod, and afterwards the whole Catholic and Apostolic Church approving it) they were read and sung publicly in the Ecclesiastical office; a thing which after the Apostles and their immediate disciples was never granted to any of the ancient Fathers or Doctors of God's Church. And hence it was (to omit other fabulous Why he is called, Venerable stories hereof) that both in his life time and after his death he was qualified with the title of VENERABLE BEDE. For his homilies being to be read in the Church he yet living, and a title of the Author to be prefixed before the lessons (as the manner is) because they could not style him, Saint, Ante obitum nemo Supremaque funera faelix, They worthily adorned him with the name of VENERABLE either by reason of the singular gravity and modesty of his carriage, or else because that Pope Sergius in the above cited epistle qualified him with that Epithet: And the same title grew so universally then in use, that to this present day he is commonly called thereby, and it remains still prefixed to all his Homilies which are read or sung in the Church. VI SUCH than was the incomparable learning of this our famous Doctor of England Saint BEDE, who living in a Benedictine Six hundred Benedictine Monks in his Monastery. Abbey in which were at that time above six hundred monks, he not only excelled them all, and became a Master to them all, but an amazement to the whole Christian world besides. But what? was BEDE so eagerly bend to the studies of learning during the time of his life that he neglected the study of virtue and piety? It can not be said. For (as an ancient author doth testify) a● his very first entrance into the lists of the sciences, together with his years the grace of spiritual gifts increased in his soul, that with the spirit of wisdom & understanding he might receive allsoe the spirit of the fear of our Lord, where with chastising his body and bringing it into obedience to his mind, he learned to Malmesb. de reg. lib. 1. cap. 3. possess the vessel of the flesh in sanctification and honour. Furthermore, all doubt of the holiness of his life is banished from humane thoughts by this irrefragable sentence which the Majesty of divine wisdom left to the world: In animam malevolam non introibit sapientia, nec habitabit in corpore subdito peccatis. Wisdom will not enter into a malicious soul, nor dwell in a body subject to sin. Which is not spoken of worldly wisdom, that entereth indifferently into the hearts of all men, and in which oftentimes wicked persons and those that to the last gasp set no limits to their wickedness are found to excel: according to that of our Saviour. The children of this world are wiser than the children of light; But that the Wiseman calls wisdom, which avoids the faynednes of good discipline, and which separateth itself from thoughts that are without the true understanding of well-living and well-saying. Whence it is that Quintilian rightly defined a true Orator when he said: Orator est vir bonus, dicendi peritus, An Orator is a good man, skilful in speaking. Therefore this our Ecclesiastical Orator saint BEDE did first purify his own conscience, that so he might worthily attain to a divine knowledge to discover the understanding of the mysteries of holy scripture. For how could that man be subject to vice, who tasted the most inward marrow of those divine writings, and employed all the thoughts & powers of his soul in the continual explication thereof? This his own words do prove when he saith, that his expositions Lib. 3. sup. Sam if they brought no other profit to the readers, at lest they were anayleable to him in this, that whilst he applied his whole study thereunto, he set aside and avoided the lightness of the world, and all vain cogitations. Therefore this holy man being free from all vice, displayed the veil of the hidden mysteries, and with a modest and devout eloquence laid open to the world those divine secrets which he had learned. VII. HIS custom was to be by his reading greatly enkindled to Trithem. de vir. illust. l. 3. c. 155. devotion and compunction, which he oftentimes witnessed with bitter tears that flowed from him at his book. And after his reading and study our pious Doctor betook himself to his prayers, having learned that the way to attain the knowledge of holy Scripture lay more in the grace of God than his own forces. O man worthy to be honoured of all ages, who enriched the treasure of his mind with virtue and prayer, and adorned the Christian world with learning. No man ever saw him idle, so vehemently he burned with the love of sacred study and devotion. He had many famous scholars, whom he not only taught by his own study and example the secrets of all humane and divine learning, but, which is the chiefest, made them excellently perfect in religion and holy life. He was a man in all things most worthy of praise, and (according to his title) VENERABIE in learning and good manners. In charity towards God and his neighbour most excellent, admirable in devotion, and glorious in chastity of life. Of a decent and comely stature, grave in his gate, of a high voice, an eloquent tongue, and a goodly aspect or countenance, in which a kind of sweet pleasantness shined through a venerable severity. Whereupon to good and devout persons he was affable, but terrible to the negligent and highminded: and yet he carried himself with so great meekness and humility to all, that in the whole Monastery (in which were six hundred Monks) is was hard to find his equal in true virtue and religion. VIII. BUT above all, the pure holiness, and holy pureness of his life and mind appeared more excellently at his death; the manner whereof we have related out of. Cuthbert his disciple, afterwards Abbot Cuthbert in ep. ad Cuth winun condiscipulum. of the same monastery, who was present at his holy departure. He fell first into sickness almost a fortnight before Easter, from which time until Ascension-day he laboured grievously with a weakness in his stomach, and the shortness of wind: yet he ceased not to dictate daily to his scholars at his accustomed hours, and spent the rest of the day in reciting of psalms and prayers, and the whole night (unless when a little sleep did hinder him) he passed over in spiritual joy and thanksgiving, striving by these pious exercises to deceive the sharpness of his disease. I confess truly (saith the Author) His employments during his sickness. that I never saw or heard off any one other, that so diligently gave thankes unto almighty God. O truly blessed man? During this sickness besides these employments, he turned the Gospel of saint JOHN into English, and gathered some memorable notes out of the books of saint ISIDORE: using these words to his scholars: Learn my children whilst I am with you: for I know not how long I shall subsist, or how soon my creator will take me away, that my soul may return to him that sent it. I have lived a long time, my Lord God hath well provided for me in this space of life; now I desire to be dessolued to live with CHRIST. IX. ALLSOE a firm hope of the joys to come, and a pious fear of the fearful judgements of almighty God being set in an equal proportion A pions' lesson. in the balance of his mind, he used that sentence of saint PAUL: Horrendum est incidere in manus Dei viventis: It is a dreadful thing to fall into the hands of the living God: and many other such like, out of the sacred scripture, whereby he exhorted his scholars and brethren that were about him to awake out of the dullness of the soul, by the remembrance of the last terrible hour, adding a speech in the mother-tongue of the fearful separation which death makes between the soul and the bodi●. Then he would sing hymns and Anthimes to the great consolation of himself and all the assistants, till tears of devotion trickling down his cheeks hindered his pious music, and made the attendants, that endeavoured to help him out, to weep singing and sing weeping, striving (as it were) with their songs to serve him singing, and with their tears to help him weeping. But he (albeit he wept) enjoyed so great comfort and spiritual joy in his soul, that when he was most cruelly oppressed with the burden of his disease, he gave thankes unto almighty The security of his conscience God for his goodness in so punishing him: Using those words of the Scripture: God scourgeth every child that he receiveth: and alluding to the words of saint AMBROSE dying. I have not lived so amongst ye that I need be ashamed of my life, and nether do I fear to die, because we have a good Lord. Thrice happy soul that could speak with so great security of conscience, that he was nether ashamed to live, nor afraid to die! not fearing the sight of men in this world, and with a quiet mind expecting the secret judgement of God in the next. X. BUT on tuesday before the Ascension of our Lord, his sickness His sickness encrea seth. began more grievously to afflict him, and a little swelling appeared in his feet, an undoubted presage of his neere-approaching death. Yet all that day he passed over joyfully teaching, and dictating to his scholars, & the night following he watched singing hymns and psalms of praises and thanksgiving to almighty God, till the next day (which was the last of his labours & first of his rest) brought him the embassage of his ensuing happiness, when he still diligently dictated to his brethren about him, whilst the bitter tears of the writers, grieving to be deprived of so good a Master, were as gauls to make their ink more black and doleful. In the after noon he sent his beloved disciple Cuthbert (who writ this history) to his Cell, to fetch thence such small gifts as he had to be disposed amongst his more familiar friends for a memory of him. Then a great part of the Priests & other monks of the monastery being He receiveth the last sacraments. gathered together, they fortified the holy man with the sacraments of Extreme Unction and the sacred Eucharist: who having given the salutation of peace unto all his Brethren, beseeching each one in particular to be mindful of him in their Masses and prayers, he joyfully expected the happy minute that should free his soul from the burden of her mortality to the immortal reward of his labours. But (said one of his devout Scholars) my beloved Master yet there remains one sentence unwritten. Writ then quickly (replied the holy Doctor) for my time is short. Which being done: now (answered he) I have written it, and the whole work is ended. Thou sayest well (replied the Saint) that it is ended, for now I desire to end also to live with my Creator. And causing them to place him towards the oratory where he was wont to pray, lying down upon a haircloth with perfect sense and a joyful countenance, he invited the grace of the holy Ghost devoutly singing this Anihime: O rex gloriae, Domine virtutum, qui triumphator hodie super omnes caelos ascendists, ne derelinquas nos Orphanos; sed mitte promissum His last song of devotion. Patris in nos Spiritum veritatis: and having added; Gloria Patri, & filio, & spiritui sancto, he devoutly rendered up his blessed spirit to the everlasting Kingdom of all blessedness: when such sweet and fragrant odours followed his swanlike soul, that the amazed assistants through themselves in a Paradise of heavenly baulmes: and all generally Sweet odouts at his death. affirmed that they never saw any man end his life in so great tranquillity and devotion. He died on the feast of our Lords triumphant Ascension into heaven, the twenty sixth day of May, but his feast is observed the twenty seaventh of the same, because the twenty sixth was solemnly observed to the honour of our glorious Apostle Saint AUGUSTINE, throughout all England. His death was about the year 735. at the age of ninety (or as others say) of an hundred and five years, for in the computation of his age and the year he died in, our writers are very different. He was first buried in his own Monastery of Weremouth, but afterwards his holy relics were translated to Durham, where together with the head of King Oswald, and the bones of King Coolwulphe a Benedictine Monk of Lindisfarne, they were found in a linen bag within the tomb of our great saint CUTHBERT, during the reign of William the second, when Ranulphus the seaventh bishop of Durham translated the body of the same saint CUTHBERT into the new Church which he had built: where the sacred bones of saint BEDE remain to this day, with this Epitaphe too unelegant for the shrine of so learned a man. Beda Dei famulus monachorum nobile sidus, The Epitaphe of his Tomb Finibus e terrae profuit Ecclesiae. Solers iste Patrum scrutando per omnia sensum, Eloquio viguit, plurima composuit. Annos in vitater duxit * Quinque vitae triginta Praesbiter officio, Maximus ingenio. junij septenis viduatur carne Calendis, Angligena Angelicam commeruit patriam. They are in no sort to be borne with or believed, who have A false opinion of his translation. written, or rather dreamt, that his body was transported to Genua in Italy. For hitherunto I do not find this affirmed by any approved Author. And not a few assever that in his life time he never went out of the bounds of England, and to say that he was transported after death into foreign lands, seemeth to be a monstrous and straying opinion worthy to be banished into fare countries. His life we have collected out of diverse grave Authors, William Malmesbury de gest. reg. Ang lib. 1. cap. 3. joannes Anglicus recited by john Capgrave in his legend of English Saints, and Trithemius in his work of the illustrious men of saint benedict's Order lib. 3. cap. 155. & lib. 2. cap. 21. But his life hath been written by Cuthbert his disciple a Benedictine in the same Monastery, and one much auncienter than all those; being an eyewitness of what he writes, out of whom, and an other ancient manuscript written by one that suppressed his name, we have taken a great part of his life. Mention is made of him in the Roman Martirologe, and all our Historiographers as well English as others do highly sound forth his praises. The end of May. decorative device depiction of St. Boniface S. BONIFACIUS MARTYR GERMANORUM APLUS Benedictinus Anglu●. Junij. 5. M. ba●●. f. The life of S. BONIFACE Archbishop, Apostle of Germany, of the holy order of saint BENEDICT. JUNE 5 Written by S. Willibald Bishop of Ei●●●●tadt in Germany. WHEN the Englishmen that came out of Germany had conquered the Island of great Britain and given it the name of England, the Catholic religion brought in by King Lucius, was forced to give place to Paganis●●e till after an hundred and forty years, by the preaching of S. AUGUSTINE the Benedistine Monk it was again restored to Christianity. Then many holy men, of the same order & profession although they thought themselves most happy in the purchase of so great good, something notwithstanding they judged to be wanting for the making up of their felicity, because their own ancient country of Germany which they had left, was yet detained in the black night The place of his birth, and desire of a religious life. of Idolatry. The care and cogitation hereof much troubled and exercised the hearts of many, and chief of this holy Benedictine Monk WINFRID, afterwards called BONIFACE. Who being borne of very worthy parents at Kyrt●n in Devonshire, was from his very childhood possessed with a wonderful love of the heavenly wisdom, and a perfect monastical manner of life; in so much that he opened the secret of this desire unto his father, Who greatly displeased thereat, endeavoured partly with flattering enticements, & large promises, and partly with threatenings, to deter him from that pious course. But by how much the more earnestly the father striven to reclaim his son to the love of the world, by so much the more constantly the holy child full of the divine grace, remained firm in his good purpose, and studied to attain to the knowledge of heavenly learning. Whence, by the wonderful providence of almighty God, it came to pass, that his father who was his only hindrance, being taken with a sudden sickness, deposed all his former stubborness, and sent his son to the Benedictine Abbey at Excester six miles He taketh the Habit of S. Bene dict. distant from the place where he was borne, commending him to the care of Wolphard the venerable Abbot of the same Monastery, by whom he was courteously received, where he began to perform all the duties of a monastical life that were agreeable to his tender age, growing daily, as in age, more perfect in the exercise of virtue. II. BEING gone out of the years of his childhood, he so entirely subjected himself to the institutions of his ancients, and the exercise of sacred reading, that every day his soul was enriched more and more with the divine gifts of many virtues. In sum, when under the obedience of the forenamed Abbot he had professed and observed all the discipline of a regular life according to the Rule of the great Patriarch of Monks saint BENEDICT, for the space of many years, and being not able there for of want teachers to satiate his thirst of divine learning, according to the greatness of his desire, with the consent of his Abbot and brethren he went to the Monastery of Nutscelle, where under the discipline of Winbert the Abbot he made so wonderful a progress in all manner of His great progress in learning. learning and virtue, that his fame being diwlged over the country, many flocked thither to become his scholars. When he, the more he was exalted to the height of science, and excellency of other virtues, the more close he kept himself within the ward of humility, ever honouring his iuferiours as his equals, and embracing them with the arms of true love and charity, according to the counsel of the wiseman, By how much thou art Eccl. 3. greater, humble thyself in all things. At the thirtieth year of his age he was adorned with the sacred dignity of Priesthood, when by reason of his great learning and virtue, he was held in so great He is made Priest. veneration in that country, that a Synod being assembled at the same time to difcusse some ecclesiastical controversies, wherein some certain decrees were ordained (which notwithstanding were submitted to the honourable suffrage of the Archbishop of Canturbury) by the consent of the King and Council, BONIFACE was chosen to be most fit to treat of so weighty a matter with the Archbishop: which business he so bravely and solidly dispatched, that he purchased to himself grace and favour with all men. III. BUT retaining always in his mind a pious desire to labour His ardent desire to convert Insidels. in the conversion of Infidels to the faith of CHRIST, and continually ruminating with himself how to bring his desire to perfection, rightly understanding every good thing to be so much the more absolutely perfect, by how much it was more common, and of all things that to be the best and excellentest by which men were brought from the blindness of Idolatry to the divine and evangelical light of the truth; contemning all domestic hopes and honours, and setting aside all dangers of health and body, he was wholly carried to that holy work. Germany was the place at which he aimed, where many had never, or very slenderly heard of CHRIST, or his Gospel, others had indeed received the knowledge of the true religion and professed the Christian faith, but were almost fallen again into Idolatry, and bore only the bare name of Christians, as the Thuringians, and Banarians, and Frisians. To guide the first in the truth, and reduce the others to the truth, was the height of his desires. Therefore having with much difficulty obtained the free leave of He saileth into Germany. his Abbot and brethren, whose prayers and tears waited upon his departure, he fosooke his own friends and country, and sailed into Frizeland, in which place he employed the first and last part of his holy labours. iv AT that time Ra●bod the impious prince of the Frisian●, having overcome Charles King of France, returned newly from the victory, when the matter went very ill with those in that country that professed the faith of CHRIST, whom he out of hate to Charles and the Christian name, did grievously persecute. Him therefore See the divine courage of the holy man. swelling in the triumph of this victory, saint BONIFACE (allbeit unknown, and abject in the world) was not afeard to meet in the very pursuit of his conquest; desiring him to abstain from vexing those poor souls, and to embrace ●lemencie as the greatest ornament of a Prince, and the Christian faith as the only true religion. The prince reverencing the boldness of this Christian champion, abstained from offering him any further wrong. But BONIFACE finding after many labours that there was little or no hope of reaping any profit in Friesland, returned back to his own country. And Winbert his Abbot being dead in the mean time, the Monks his brethren turned all their studies and desires towards him, and earnestly requested him to undertake the government of the monastery. But he desiring still to perfect his old desire, wished them to think of an other ruler, and suffer him to live a Pilgrim, He refu●●th the dignity of Abbot. for the love of CHRIST, and the good of his people. Therefore having communicated the matter with the venerable Daniel Bishop of Winchester, and being strengthened with his commendatory letters, he returned to his former pilgrimage. And to the end that being armed with greater counsel and authority he might disperse the evangelical seed, he went to Rome, the head-Church of the world, and made known his holy purpose to Pope Gregory the second. Which when he had approved, and perceived BONIFACE to be a man very fit for that function, he sent him with letters into Germany, whereby he gave him full power and authority to announce the faith of CHRIST to all the Pagans throughout that whole country; admonishing him withal that whatsoever difficulty arose, of which he could not conveniently discharge himself, to refer it to the Roman and Apostolic Sea. The profit of his first labours in Germany V FROM Rome therefore he returned to Th●ringia in Germany, where he very profitably employed his labour, both with the Princes of that Province, whom he reduced to the knowledge of the true religion, and with the Priests that lived fare unworthy their calling, whom with his pious exhortations he caused to amend their lives. Then hearing of the death of Radbod, he went again into Frifeland, where together with saint WILLIBRORD Bishop of Utrecht (an English Benedictine Monk) he laboured for the space of three years in preaching, teaching, destroying of Idols, and building of Churches; whereby many were reduced to the Christian faith. Then saint WILLIBRORD (whom old age had now made unable to govern his Church) desired to lay the burden of his episcopal charge on the shoulders of saint BONIFACE; but no entreaties could move him to yield thereunto, so ardent a desire he He refuseth a Bishopric. had to hold on the course of his preaching, to gain souls to CHRIST. Therefore with the good leave and benediction of WILLIBRORD, he traveled into Hassia (having first built a Monastery and stored it with Benedictine Monks in Frifeland) and there, when he had converted many thousands of people, and imprinted in their souls the Christian character of baptism, instead of the black marks of Idolatry, by letters and a Messenger he rejoiced the Pope of Rome with the glad news of his happy success; and not long after being sent for by the Pope he went to Rome in person; whom the Pope received with all courtesy and humanity, and admitted He goeth again to Rome. him often times to his presence, and spent with him sometimes almost a whole day together in discourse. VI IN THE mean time, the Pope having exactly understood his happy progress in promoting the Catholic cause, and received an account of his faith (which he tendered unto him in writing) that greater estimation and authority might be added to his preaching, made him bishop, and gave him the name of BONIFACE, for before He is made Bishop he was called WINFRID. In receiving which dignity he religiously called to witness almighty God, and the sacred body of S. PETER at which he stood, that he would faithfully keep and maintain the sincerity of the Catholic faith, as long as he lived, and humbly obey the Bishops of the Roman Church, as the successors of S. PETER; and hold no communication with those Bishops that violated the decrees of the Canons and ancient Fathers of the The Pope commendeth him to the Germane princes. Church. Then Pope Gregory dismissed him with letters to the Prince Charles Martellus, and to the Bishops, Clergy, Princes, and people of Germany, in which he carefully recommended BONIFACE unto all, desiring them to advance the good endeavours which he employed in promoting the Christian cause, and obey his admonitions. And that he might be the better provided and instructed exactly to exercise all the duties belonging to his episcopal function, he imparted many precepts unto him touching ecclesiastical matters, and at his departure gave him a book containing the decrees of the Popes and ancient Fathers. Returning therefore from Rome, he went again into Hassia, where many yet lay grovelling in the night of Idolatry: and many that before had professed the Christian faith, had now either perfidiously forsaken or wickedly defiled it with the impious and detestable actions and superstitions of the Heathens. VII. THERE grew in that Province a certain tree of a mighty jupiter's tree destroyed m●●●culously. greatness called joves-tree, which was superstitiously worshipped by the Pagans. This, as a chief monument of their Heathenish superstition saint BONIFACE endeavoured to cut down and overthrow. Which his labours greatly vexing the minds of those Infidels, made them take arms against him; when to the great astonishment of them all, that tree, which by little and little he had begun to cut, was by a certain divine power suddenly broken and shivered into four pieces. This spectacle so terrified the fierce hearts of the Pagans, that together with their malice conceived against the holy man, they deposed they errors and embraced the Christian faith, which from this time wonderfully increased every day. To which happiness, by the labour of saint BONIFACE, the Christian cause in Thuringia aswered with the like good success: where albeit the false Christians Dorth winus, Bertherus, Erimbertus, False Christians excommunicated. and Humedus, men wholly addicted to withcraft adultery, and all other vices, cruelly afflicted and hindered for a time his holy endeavours, yet being at length utterly convinced with the force of his divine arguments, they were overthrown, and by the censure of excommunication cut off from the Communion of the Catholic Church. Whilst he laboured in preaching, teaching, and baptising in this Province, & happened to pitch his tents near unto the river Oraham, an heavenly splendour glittered all one night over the place where the holy bishop lay, and in that light S. MICHAEL S. Michael appeareth to S. boniface. the Archangel appeared unto him with words of wonderful consolation and encouragement. On the morrow having rendered thanks unto almighty God for so peculiar a remonstrance of his favour, he celebrated the sacred mysteries of Mass in the same place, where in great extremity & want of victuals a straying bird unexpectedly brought him a fish of sufficient quantity to serve him and his fellows for a meal. And here having afterwards obtained a parcel of land of one Hugo surnamed the Elder, saint BONIFACE built the Church and monastery of Ordosse, to the honour and name of saint MICHAEL, and in memory of this divine favour there received. VIII. THEREFORE the Christian faith greatly increasing every He sends 〈◊〉 more preachers out of England. day by the preaching of saint BONIFACE, and finding the labourers to be too few for so large and ample an harvest he sent for more religious men and women out of England, and divided the burden of his labour amongst them. The chiefest of the men were B●rehard, Lullus, Willibald and Wincbald his brother; Wit●●, and Gregory; and of the religious women Tecla, Lioba, and Walburg, all Monks and Nuns of the holy order of saint BENEDICT, by whose pious labours and endeavours His obedience to the Roman sea. the Monasteries built by saint BONIFACE were governed in the profession of monastical discipline, the Benedictine Order much advanced in that Country, and many thousands reduced to the Christian faith. In the mean time Pope Gregory the second being dead, a other Gregory succeeded, unto whom saint BONIFACE sent messengers out of hand, to testify his duty and observance towards him and the Roman sea, to signify withal how and in what manner he had laboured in Germany, and to desire his counsel in many difficulties that did arise. To all which the Pope not only gave particular answer by letters, but allsoe (an honour which he desired not) made saint BONIFACE Archbishop of Germany, and sent him the pall due unto that dignity. IX. Then this blessed man, having built two Monasteries, one in the honour of the Prince of Apostles saint PETER, & an other to saint MICHAEL the Archangel, and filled them with Monks to sing the praises of almighty God, he traveled into Bavaria, then governed by a Duke called Hubert, where with his sacred preachings, and the excommunication of a wilful sck Ermwolfe, (whose poisonous doctrine infected many) he greatly promoted the Christian faith. And not long after, saint BONIFACE went His third journey to Rome. again to Rome, where he was honourably entertained by the whole court and chief by the Pope, who sent him back into Germany loaden with many sacred gifts, and with commendatory letters to men of all orders and conditions as well Ecclesiastical as secular throughout the Country. Being returned, Vtilo Duke of He reformeth the Churches of Bavaria. Bavaria sent for him to set in order the Churches of that Province, where there were many that impudently assumed unto themselves the sacred functions of Priests and Bishops without any authority but their own, and corrupted the people with diverse errors. These the holy man banished out of that country, and with great care and prudency, provided against the like deceits in future: The Province itself he divided into ●ower Dioceses, which before was governed by the sole Bishop of Pata●●a, unto which saint BONIFACE added the Episcopal seas of Saltzburg, Frisengen, and R 〈…〉 bone: and this his proceeding was ratified by the letters of Pope Gregory, who with his hands lifted up towards heaven fignified the infinite thankes he gave to almighty God, for the Evangelicall seed so happily sown by Boniface in Germany, where he had gained a hundred thousand souls to Christ out of the slavery and bondage of the Devil. X. But death having deprived the pious Prince Carolus Martell●● Carolomannus King of France. of the use and cares of the world, Carolomannus together with his brother Pipin jointly succeeded their father in the crown of France. To Carolomannus therefore, who was the elder, S. Boniface went, whom when he had carefully exhorted to imitate his father's piety towards the Churches of God, for the advancement of the Christian saith, he found nothing degenerate from his father in that matter. Therefore saint BONIFACED beseethed▪ his authority and consent for the assembling of a Synod, whereby the Ecclesiastical A Synod held in Germany. discipline (greatly impaired both in the Clergy and people) might be reduced to the exact observance of the Canons & de 〈…〉 s of the Church. For no● Synod had 〈◊〉 held there for the space of fowe●score years before. The dec 〈…〉 of the Canons were neglected; the ordinations of Bishops were dispatched by those that had no authority▪ men of wicked lives were without distrinction raised to priesthood and other Ecclesiastical functions. Therefore in this Synod (in which by the authority of Zacharie Bishop of R 〈…〉 saint BONIFACE presided) many things very profitable to the Church were decreed: and amongst others, that no bishops or▪ Priests▪ contrary to the state of their dignity and office, should follow ●eats of arms, those only excepted who serried the 〈◊〉 with the sacrifice of Mass and the sacramenes. Many allsoe that were feared with the marks of wicked life, and teaching of 〈◊〉 s● doctrine, were deprived of their degrees: and amongst others two notable masters of damnable opinions, Clement, and A●elbe●●, 〈◊〉 ●ast out of the Church; as allsoe G●●uilio Bishop He is made Archbis hop of Me●●s. of Ment● (who had cunningly slain the murderer of his father) was degraded, 〈◊〉 whose place the two Princely brother's 〈◊〉, and B●p●● substituted our Boniface. And for the greater ornament of him and ●his sea, they not only exempted it from the jurisdiction of the Church to which it was subject before, but also made it the prime metropolitan Sea of all the Churches of Germany▪ and by Lega●s sent to Rome obtained to have their decrees established by the honourable suffrage of the Pope. His labours con▪ firmed by the Pope. XI▪ BUT our holy BONIFACE being strengthened and adorned with this archiepiscopal authority, endeavoured daily as his honours increased to increase also his former labour and diligence of preaching▪ ●eaching▪ and baptising▪ making many hard journeys▪ o●er the country to that end, founding new Churches and Monasteries, and ond●yni●g new bishops and Pastors to govern them, especially at Ei●h●tat, Wirzburg, and Erphesfort, who were all confirmed by the authority of Pope Zachary, who writ many letters to saint BONIFACE himself, and to the bishops and Princes of Germany in his behalf: And saint BONIFACE likewise, ●o take counsel touching diverse Ecclesiastical affairs, sen● many epistles to Pope Zacharie, which the purpose of our brevity will not permit to rehearse at large. But the forenamed Hereticques Adelbert, and Clement were condemned in a Synod at Rome, not T●●o Me●ericks condemned, for wicked opinions. as bishops and Pastors of the flock, but as devourers of their sheep, and Apostatas against the Catholic Church. Adelbert like unto an other Simon Magu● assumed a new deity to him▪ self yet alive, and refusing to dedicate Churches to the holy Apostles and Martyrs, did consecrate, or rather pollute a Temple to his own name and honour; and gave his hair and nails for holy relics to that deceived people. And when they came humbly to him to make a confession of their sinne●▪ In vain (said he) ye seek to reveal those things to me, all which I perfectly know already, and from which I absolve ye all▪ therefore with a secure and quiet conscience return home. But Cl●ment (who was a Scott by nation) being possessed with See the insolent pride of here●ie. a spirit● of wonderful great pride, preferred himself not only before all the learned and pious bishops and others of that age, but also before all the ancient Fathers and holy Doctors of the Church: and besides other monstrous opinions, tickling the ears and minds of that foolish people with the flattering language of his preaching, he promised a certainty of salvation to all, even Idolaters, whom together with the rest, he said Christ had redeemed, by descending into Hell. But let us return to saint BONIFACE. XII. WHO although he were encompassed with so many and so great cares and labours in Germany, yet did he not depose all thought and care of his England; where when he understood that many things were done amiss both by the bishops and Kings, he piously admonished them of their duty by letters. Whereof one written to Ethel●ald King of the Mercia●s to reclaim him from his wicked life, because it is a lively patter●● of the zeal and affection of this holy man, we will here set down for the profit of these times, and of posterity. Thus therefore he writes. To Ethelbald his most dear Lord, and to be preferred in the His Epistle to King Ethelbald. love of Christ before other Kings of the English, BONIFACE Archbishop, German Leg●t of the Roman▪ Church sendeth perpetual health of Charity in CHRIST. We confess before God that we rejoice when we hear of your prosperity, ●ayth, and good works. F●● we ha●e▪ understood that attending to almesdeeds thou for 〈◊〉 〈…〉 berries and ●●pes▪ and lovest peace, and thou 〈◊〉 de●●ndes of widows▪ and the poo●e, and thence we give God thankes: but in that tho● despisest lawful matrimony, if thou didst do it for love of chastity, it were laudable; but because thou wall ●●est in lust and 〈◊〉 eue● with sacred Virgins, it is to be 〈◊〉 and damnable▪ For it confoundeth the same of thy glory before God and men, and ranks thee amongst idolaters, because thou 〈◊〉 violated the temple of God. Wherefore, most dear son, do penance, and remember how fowl a thing it is, that thou who by the gift of God, art Lord of many people, to the injury of him, becomest a slave to Lust. Moreover, we have heard that almost all the Nobles of the Mercia●s, by thy example forsake their lawful wives and commit adultery with others. Which how fare it is from honesty, let the institution of other nations teach us. For in ancient Saxony, where there is no knowledge of CHRIST, if a Virgin in her father's A straying punishment of Adultery. house, or a married woman under the duty of a Husband commit adultery, they burn her being strangled with her own hands, and hang up▪ the adulterer▪ on her grave: or else being naked to the girdle, some chaste matrons do scourge her, and punish her with knives from town to town, where she is ever me●t by new tormentors, until she be 〈◊〉 to death. A● Widen also, which is a most faithful generation of men, they have this custom, that a woman when her husband is dead, do throw herself headlong into his funeral ●ier to burn together. If than the Gentiles ignorant of God have so great zeal for chastity, what becometh thee, most dear son who art a Christian, and a King's▪ Have compassion therefore on thy own soul, and on the multitude of people perishing by thy example, for whose souls also thou must render an account. Again, if the English nation (as it is reproached against us in 〈…〉 e From unlawful, lust a bad generation. and ●●a●●, yea and by the Paga●● them 〈◊〉) said along law full marriage fall wholly to filthy 〈…〉 s, that 〈◊〉 generation it will breed a slug i● people, that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 God, and with their wicked manners overthrew the whole country, as it hath be●al●● to the 〈…〉 ans, Pro●●s 〈…〉, and S 〈…〉 ds, whom the S 〈…〉 have 〈◊〉 year's vex●● for't 〈…〉 sin 〈…〉. Furthermore, it is 〈◊〉 us that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 the Churches and Monasteries of 〈…〉 ges, thou do 〈…〉 by 〈…〉 voke thy Nobles to 〈◊〉 the like: But call to 〈◊〉 I 〈…〉 thee The divine punishment of Church ●obbers. what a terrible revenge 〈…〉 e God hath ex 〈…〉 against other Kings thy pre 〈…〉 that were gum 〈…〉 of the 〈◊〉 we now ●eprehend in thee. For 〈◊〉 thy 〈…〉ing a 〈◊〉 of sacred Virgins, and a breaker of 〈…〉 ges, was suddenly, as he fate 〈…〉 ully ba 〈…〉 g with his Nobles, 〈…〉 sed upon by a wicked Spirit, that 〈…〉 tly rob him of, his soul, without either confession 〈◊〉 Via 〈…〉 but talking with the de 〈…〉 and detesting the law of God. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 King of the 〈◊〉 and B 〈…〉 being gum 〈…〉 of the 〈…〉, be 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 mad; that by a contemptible death he was deprived both 〈◊〉 his Kingdom and youthful age. All so Charles a Prince of the ●rench being a destroyer of ma●● Monasteries, and one that turned church-good to his own ules, was co●●med with the long torment of a fearful death. Wherefore, most dear son, with f 〈…〉 and earnest prayers we besee●h she● not to despise the counsel of thy Fathers, who for the love of God endeavour to call upon thy Highness to remember thy duty; for nothing is more wholesome for a good King, then if such faults be willingly amended, when they are reprehended; because Solomon saith; Who month 〈…〉, ●oueth wisdom. Therefore, most ●eare son, making 〈◊〉 our counsel; we Prou. 12. v. 1. be 〈…〉 h and con●●re thee by the ●uing God, and by his dear son 〈◊〉, and by the holy Ghost, to remember how flee●ing this present life is, and how short and momentarl● are the delights of the 〈…〉 thy flesh, and how ig●omi●●●ous a thing it is, that a man but of a short life, should leave a p●●per●●● remembrance of bad examples to his poste●●e. Begin then to or 〈◊〉 thy life with 〈◊〉 manners, and to correct the former 〈◊〉 of thy youth, that here thou ●●iest purchase pray●● before men, and joys, of eternal glory in future. Who wish thy Highness to enjoy health, and profit daily in good 〈◊〉. XIII. The ●hould saint 〈…〉 CAL 〈◊〉; King E'the 〈…〉, wherein 〈◊〉 did 〈◊〉 wholly lose his labour, 〈◊〉 the King being Etherbald reform by ●aint Boniface. terrified with this sha' 〈…〉 and pious remem 〈…〉, in ma●le things reform his 〈◊〉, and restored di 〈…〉 so the 〈…〉 ri●s; of so● great 〈◊〉 was the 〈◊〉 and 〈◊〉 of the holy man●● 〈…〉kes of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 mean time, saint 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 (〈◊〉 btayned 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Prince K 〈…〉 man a pe●ce of land in the desert of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 into the ●iuer F●ld●) began to lay the foundation of the famous Benedictine Monastery which 〈…〉 heath to this day, and is called the Abbey The building of the Benedictine Abbey of Fulda. of Fulda, famous for religion and 〈◊〉 The first Abbot thereof was called 〈◊〉, a man of V●●●rible con●●sation, to whom and 〈◊〉 holy 〈◊〉 of Morikes, the land where the 〈…〉 nasterie now stands, was by the royal charter 〈◊〉 〈…〉 confirmed and granted for ever. Which done, this ver 〈…〉 Prince growing daily more and more perfect in the love of God, and finding that in the world he could not see purely and perfectly 〈…〉 in to the height thereof, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 with Magdalen of the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Caroloman becometh a Benedictine Monk. ●hall never be taken from him. For learning the ample Kingdom of his terrene dominions to the government of his brother. P●pi●, he departed to Mount-Ca 〈…〉 in It 〈…〉, the place 〈…〉, holy Father saint BENEDICT laid the foundation of his ver 〈…〉 Order, and in which was yet observed a most strict discipline, of 〈…〉 sticall life; And now in that place this noble Prince changed his ●oyall robes of majesty, to the simple weeds of a self-punishing humility, and made profession of a Monk under the MASTER- 〈…〉 OF DISCRETION, the holy Rule of the great Patrianke of Monks saint BENEDICT. Then King 〈◊〉 having straynge the whole inheritance to himself, imitating the place of his brother, 〈◊〉 all ways to love, honour, and promote all the pis 〈…〉 〈…〉 rs, of saint BONIFACE, unto whom by his own letters, he confirmed his Brothers' donation of the monastery of Fulda. XIV. BUT now saint BONIFACES time dr●● 〈◊〉 wherein he should receive from CHRIST the reward of his great hours, and taste the most ample fruit of the soed of his Enangelicall preaching which he had 〈◊〉 worthily 〈◊〉 in the hearts of the G 〈…〉 people. Therefore foreseeing the diss 〈…〉 of his own body S ●onitace retorneth into Frisia. to be near at h 〈…〉 by the suggestion of the holy Ghost he returned into F 〈…〉, there to finish his humane 〈◊〉 where he took his beginning, there he might all s●e make an end of his e 〈…〉 licall preaching, and his mortal life together. Thy 〈…〉 then he went, not without a presage of what should befall unto him. For being 〈◊〉 take his journey be apppointed his faithful disciple and companion L 〈…〉 us to succeed him in the Metropolitan Sea of M 〈…〉 z, diligently recommending unto him, carefully to sert forward the building of the Monastery of Fulda, and together with some books, to send him a to mind his body in after death; and cause it to be translated to Fulda. These words 〈◊〉 blessed 〈◊〉 to perform with tears the holy man's commands. XV. BEING arrived into Friesland, by his preaching he converted a The sacra meant of Confirmation. great multitude to CHRIST, and washed them in the sacred Font of baptism, unto whom departing away he appointed a day to return, in which by the imposition of hands and anneyling with sacred chris 〈…〉 they ●igh 〈…〉 the sacrament of Confirmation. When in the mean time those Neophites had by a wicked perfidiousness suffered a relapse from the Faith into their old errors; and now being changed from lambs to wolves they came not in peace to 〈◊〉 the holy Ghost by the imposition of hands, but armed with fearful weapons, and countenances more terrible than their weapons, and broke into the tents of the Saints, to lay violent hands on the spiritual father of their souls, and to take away his life, for whose safety they ought to have spent their own. Then some of Saint Bonifaces company prepared to defend them selves S. Bonifaces desire of martyrdom. by resistance, meaning to venture their own blood to save the shedding of his: but they were strictly by him forbidden that enterprise, 〈◊〉 that desire of revenge did not become true Christians, and that they ought not to lose so fair an occasion of 〈…〉, and 〈◊〉 themselves the purchase of so great glory, He sealeth the patent of his Apostles hip with his blood. as now one minutes patience would bring. Therefore that surious multitude of P 〈…〉 set upon the holy Bishop, and with their 〈◊〉 weapons mad● so many wounds in his sacred body, that through those bleeding sluices his blessed soul took a most happy flight to the immortal crown of martyrdom in heaven. And thus this Apostolical man, having to his death performed true Apostolical labours, at length (after the manner of the Apostles) left his Apostle ship signed with his own blood, that Germany no less than ot●●r Churches erected by Apostolical men, might glory with the everlasting memory and high glory of so great an Apostle and Martyr, from whom it received the Gospel testified with his blood, sealed with his death, confirmed with many miracles, and lastly (that nothing might be wanting) ●ortified with store of writings. XVI. THIS glorious bishop suffered martyrdom the fi●t day of June, The companions of his martyrdom. the sixtith year of his age, and fortieth after his coming out of England: in the year of grace 755. At the same time together with saint BONIFACE, E●banus (whom he had newly made bishop in Frisia) and fi●tie persons more, some Priests some deacons and other sacred ministers, of whom many were English Monks, walked the same paths of death, to receive the ever-florishing crown of martyrdom. But the wicked actors of this tragical scene escaped not the divine punishment of heaven; for as they returned The just punishment of the murderers. from the slaughter, a controversy arose amongst them touching the division of the spoils which they had taken, which when they could not decide by words, they fell to blows, and slew one an other with the same weapons which so lately had been imbrued in the blood of these glorious Martyrs: And as many of them as escaped out of this mutual slaughter, were soon after slain by the Christians, and so paid a just tribute to death for their former sacrilege. The sacred body of saint BONIFACE was first buried at Vtre●ctht, afterwards translated to Mentz, and lastly to the Benedictine His sacred burial. Abbey of Fulda, according as he had desired in his life time. And at all these three places his holy Tomb was adorned with many wonderful miracles, as so many unresistable witnesses of his holy life and merits. The life of this glorious Saint was written by S. Willibald an English Benedictine first bishop of Eistat in Germany, and by Othlonus Priest and monk of the Benedictine Abbey of Fulda, out of whom we have gathered the foresaid History. The Roman Martirologe maketh glorious mention of him the fifth day of june, and all Historiographers do largely speak his praises. The life of Saint GUDWALL Bishop and Confessor. JUNE 6 Extracted out of an ancient Author GUDWALL borne in great Britain of the noble blood of Britan's, seemed to be sent to that troubled country as the son of peace. For at his birth the seucritie of the divine justice was changed into clemency and meekness, and the three common scourges of Kingdoms, plague, famine, and war (which long had afflicted that nation) ceased. Being baptised, together with his years the grace of the holy Ghost increased in his soul, and the understanding and knowledge of divine learning. When he came to man's age (all men presaging that he would one day prove a worthy pillar of the Catholic Church) he was adorned with the sacred dignity of Priesthood. Then he began to lay open the hidden treasures His learning, and scholars. of his wisdom and learning gotten in his tender years, and to instruct others with the undrayneable fountain of his divine science. Whereby many were so rarely enkindled with the beams of the true Sun, that they became fit to lighten and inflame others with the virtue and learning which they had sucked from his breast. At length the fame of saint GUDWALL was of so He is made Bishop. great estimation in the world that he was advanced to the height of Ecclesiastical dignity, and made Bishop: when by how much he was exalted higher to honours amongst the people of God's Church, so the more abundantly he spread abroad the sweet odours of his holy life and conversation, to the great consolation and joy of the whole country. He was borne to a very large and ample patrimony, but despising all the riches and wealth of the vain mortal world, he gave all that he had to the Church of CHRIST his immortal King. And perceaving allsoe that his pastoral He leaveth his Bishopric. chargetied his mind with the chains of care to worldly affairs more than he desired, he found means to discharge himself thereof; and having substituted an other in his place, retired himself to a Monastery within his Diocese, where he entered into a contemplative life, serving our Lord in watching, fasting, and prayer, and all other austerity and discipline of a perfect monastical life. II. BUT desiring within a short time after to enter into a more He leadeth an Heremitical life. secret solitariness, wholly to apply his mind to the contemplation of divine things, he departed with one only companion and went to a great rock that stood like a little Island within the Sea, where having cut himself a little cave in the hard stone, he led a most retired and solitary life, according to the example of the ancient Hermit's. Till the brethren of the monastery which he had left being not able to endure the hard burden of the absence of GUDWALL who had endowed them with the learning of heavenly discipline, made a pious search over all the country to find him. And being found, they joyfully ranged themselves in the institution of his virtuous school, carefully studying to imitate his holy simplicity and lively mortification. But being pressed with the narrownes of the place, they hewed many little habitations in that hard rock to defend themselves from the violence of the weather. Therefore the rock which before bred a solitary horror to the behoulders, The number of his disciples. being now turned into a house of prayer, was made an habitation of Monks, where solemn watches were observed, and the Echoes of Gods divine praises resounded amidst the roaring of those swelling waves. When the fame of the holy man increasing daily, the number of his disciples likewise increased, so that one hundred fourscore and eight monks are reported to have lived under the government of his pious institution, in so much that the quantity of that place being not able to contain so great a number, at a low water saint GUDWALL went down upon the The seas obey his command. sands, and with an assured and strong confidence in the divine goodness, making the sign of the cross in the sand, commanded those unruly waves in the name of JESUS-CHRIST no more to flow beyond the limits which he had there prescribed. When to the great admiration and comfort of God's servants, that untamed element contained the accustomed pride of its swelling fury, and obeying the holy man's command, never more dared to transgress the bounds by him prefixed. Hence it appears that the miracles of the old law have been revived in the Christian Church; for Moses divided, and our GUDWALL bridled the waves of the untamed He 〈…〉 prayers. seas. And not only in this, but in an other act allsoe this holy man was replenished with the spirit of the Prophet Moses, when in the same place being in want of fresh water, by his prayers he obtained a fountain of clear streams to spring out of that hard rock. III. WONDERFUL surely was the life that this holy man led in this horrid place. He daily celebrated the dreadful sacrifice of Mass, Angels appear at h●● mass. and that with so great purity of mind and such devour preparations thereunto, that sometimes the Angels descending visibly from heaven assisted at that venerable mystery, and together with him sung the divine praises of almighty God, to the great astovishment of his amazed brethren. And other while, when the holy man began to recite his canonical hours, and pronounced those words; Deus in advitorium meum intend, the same celestial spirits distinctly answered; Domine ad adiwandum me festina, joining their heavenly harmony to the sacred devotion of S. GUDWALL. But now this glorious Confessor having wholly abandoned and forsaken the world, & crucified himself with CHRIST, in so much that for his sake he hated his own soul according to the words of the Gospel, yet was he not satisfied herewith, but endeavoured daily to better himself in perfection; He departeth to an other part of the country. whereupon after a consultation had with his brethren, he resolved to leave this habitation, & seek a convenient place to build a monastery elsewhere. Therefore they sailed into an other Province, where having obtained of a great man a piece of land fit for his purpose he laid the foundation of a monastery, in which together with his brethren he led a most heavenly and angelical life on earth, totally applying himself to the contemplation of heaven and heavenly things amidst the continual exercises and mortification of a most devout monastical life. iv IN THE mean time, many miracles were wrought by the divine He cureth a dumb child. power of almighty God at the intercession of this holy man, among which one was, that he gave speech to a child ten years old that was borne dumb, & others which for brevity's sake are here omitted. And many heavenly favours he received at the hands of the divine goodness, whereof one and not the lest was, that ten days before his death performing the sacred mysteries of our redemption at the altar, the holy Archangel S. MICHAEL together with the two He hath an apparition, and a revelation of his death. princes of the Apostolic company PETER and PAUL appeared visibly unto him, and amongst other divine consolations revealed the happy minute of his death, exhorting him withal to prepare himself thereunto with watching, fasting, and prayer, to gain a greater crown of glory in heaven. Therefore the next day, having assembled his brethren together, he made known the manner of this revelation, exhorting them to the contempt of the world, and a constant perseverance in the service of almighty God. Then a welcome His la●● sickness. sickness taking hold of his holy body, made him more feelingly understand that his time drew near, when being armed with the sacraments of the Church, amidst the devout prayers and recommendations of his weeping Brethren, he joyfully yielded up his blessed soul into the hands of his dear redeemer, which in the form of a white dove was seen to take her flight towards the heavenly dwellings. He died the sixth day of june, and over his sacred relics shined a glorious splendour all the night following. V AMONGST others that were present at his death were his mother A controversy miraculously decided. and Sisters, who very earnestly desired to have his body transported into his own native country to be honourably buried in the Church where he had been bishop. But his Brethren a● first absolutely resisted their petitions, till the controversy was decided by miracle. For putting the sacred body in a waggon the beasts that drew it were permitted to take their own ways: when contrary to the desire of both parties, they went directly to be Island called Plet, which was the place (if I be not deceived) where the holy man led a solitary life in a rock of the Sea, as is above said. And there his sacred body lay buried for the space of many years, famous for miracles all the country over. Till that Province of the Britan's being invaded by barbarous enemies, the Monks of S. GUDWALLS' transported his body into France, & Arnulphus marquis of Flanders caused The tran● lation of his body. it to be very honourably translated to the famous Benedictine Abbey of saint PETER and PAUL a● Gaunt, together with the holy relics of saint BERTULPHE. This translation happened in the reign of Clotarins over the Kingdom of France, and it is yearly celebrated in the said Monastery of Gaunt the third day of December. His life is written by an ancient Author recited by Laurence Surius tom. 6. and by joannes Anglicus recited by john Capgrave, both whom we have followed. Very honourable mention is made of his great virtue, sanctity, and Miracles in the life of Saint Bertulphe in the second tome of Surius, February the fifth, and by Vsuard, Molanus, and others. The life of saint ROBERT Confessor and Abbot under the holy Rule of saint BENEDICT. JUNE 7. Written by an ancient Author recited by Surius. THE Venerable Abbot ROBERT borne in Yorkshire, shunning from his very infancy the vain sports and pastimes of other Children his equals, so worthily profitted in the study of good learning, that he was afterwards promoted to the government of a Church in that country. But discharging himself within a while of that office and all care and cure of souls, he went to the Benedictine Abbey of Whiteby, where he put on the habit and profession of a monk of saint benedict's Order. At that time one Richard Prior of our Ladies of York had received a piece of land at a place called Fountains, where by the means of Thrustine Archbishop of York he had built a Monastery, in which together with twelve other monks, over whom he was Abbott, he led a Monastical life according to the constitutions of the Congregation of Cisterce, under the holy Rule of saint BENEDICT. No man there did eat his bread in idleness, nor gave his body to rest, but when it was overwearied with labour. They all went hungry to the table, and weary to bed. Their diet only supplied necessity, not their appetite; and yet without either sadness or murmuring they gave God thankes with alacrity. Therefore our saint ROBERT, having He becometh a Cistercia● Monk. first obtained leave of his Abbot, joined himself to this holy company, and changed his black habit for a white; that is, from a Benedictine, became a Cistercian, still observing the Rule of our holy father saint BENEDICT. And now it was rare to behold how strongly this holy man performed the accustomed labours of the monastery, how fervent he was in holy reading and contemplation, and how devoutly he followed his prayers, and other monastical exercises: being venerable in his behaviour, provident in giving of counsel, and elegant in his speech. II. IN THE mean time, having spent five years in this place, in He is made Abbot. the year of grace a thousand one hundred thirty seven, a noble man of Northumberland gave an ample possession of land to the Church, on which saint ROBERT built a new Monastery, and being chosen Abbot thereof, he took with him eleven other devout monks, wherewith he furnished the same. These he governed in the rigour of a monastical life, making himself so perfect a pattern His wonderful abstinence of a abstinence, that he never rose from the table with a full stomach, and in Lent for the most part his greatest dainties were bread and water. Whence it came to pass, that at an Easter time, his appetite and gust of meat was so utterly mortified, & overthrown, that he could not eat the meat which was set before him. And when the monk that waited upon him demanded why he did not eat? If I had some oaten bread (replied he) moistened with butter, I think I should be able to eat it. Therefore the Monk So holy David refused to drink the water which he had desired. his servant brought some such bread: when the holy man reflecting with himself that he had given a little favourable scope to his appetite, conceived so great fear thereat, that becoming a rigid and severe revenge to himself, he refused to taste it at all, but remained fasting. And that meat so provided he commanded to be given to the poor that waited at the Monastery gate, where they found a fair young man of a very beautiful countenance, who took the meat with the dish, and vanished, Which as they related to the holy Abbot, behold the same dish fell upon the table before him. Whereby they understood that an Angel sent from heaven had received that alms from the holy man. III. OVERDO and above the accustomed task of his divine office and His prayers and the effects thereof. prayers, he daily recited the whole Psalter of David containing an hundred and fifty Psalms. But as once more earnestly he made his prayers unto almighty God, and with the tears of his devotion abundantly trickling down his cheeks, he poured forth his soul before the court of heaven, desiring that as well his own as the service of his brethren might be acceptable to the divine majesty, and that they might be found worthy to have their names written in the book of life, he heard these comfortable words come from above: Take courage, my Son, for thy prayers are written in heaven. Only two of them, (whose hearts have been always fixed to the love of terrene things) are inscribed in the dust of the world. And not long after two Conuerses (commonly called Lay-brothers) casting off their habits made a miserable end of their lives in the world, whereby the divine revelation of the holy man was verified. iv PASSING on a time by Newcastle, he happened into a great He hinde●●●● the wicked endeavours of the devil multitude of young men, where he saw one with a wonderful curiosity run up and down amongst them, fawning upon them with an insolent countenance, and as it were exhort and stir them up to the execution of some great matter. When perceaving that he played not the part of a Man, but rather the deceitful games of some wicked devil, by the powerful force of his divine words he commanded him to departed: Ho thou gallant (said he) these men do not want thy work, quickly therefore be gone, and follow me. Presently ●e, as if he had been tied to their horse tails, went af●●t holy Abbot through the dirty streets, to the great astonishment of those that were present. When they were gone out of the town, and come into the turnings of the highway: Who art thou (said the holy man) and what was thy business there? Thou art not ignorant who I am (replied he) and thou knowest well my endeavours. There is a pompous celebration of a rich man's wedding Note the ma●ice of the devil in that town, and I was earnestly labouring to have the groom slain in the buanquet by his rivals, that the guests being incensed with anger thereat, might endeavour to revenge his death, and so blinded with wrath and drunkenness their mutual wounds might cause a sedition in the city, that by the cutting down of many bodies I might reap an harvest of souls into my possession. And now I was persuaded by the purchase of this victory to have returned in joyful triumph to my Prince, when my whole plot and counsel being overthrown by thee, I am constrained to go home without any gain at all. At these words the holy Abbot detesting the wickedness of that infernal monster, commanded him to departed to the determined place of his torments, and never more hereafter to attempt to deceive minkind. Whereat the wicked spirit vanished, taking his farewell with so great horror, that their horses growing furious with neighing, snoring, and tearing the ground with their feet, could hardly be held under the possession of their riders. V AN OTHER time the monks being at matin's, the holy man saw the Devil standing in the habit of a country fellow at the choir He seethe the devil enquiring into the faults of his Monks. door, and oftentimes endeavouring, but in vain, to enter into it. Then falling hearty to his prayers, and stirring up the hearts of his brethren to devotion, that infernal spy perceaving after a long expectance that he profitted nothing, vanished away with anger and confusion. The same holy Abbot celebrating once the dreadful sacrifice of Mass, saw in a vision a mighty storm at sea, wherein a ship was sorely tossed up and down in those swelling waves, till the stern being broken, she ran violently on her own ruin, and beating herself against a cruel rock, dissolved her joints and ribs into pieces, & left all the men her rulers to shift for themselves in the merciless billows of the Ocean. The holy man being greatly moved to compassion with this vision, having finished his mass, sent his Monks to the sea side to take up the bodies of those drowned persons. They went, and the fourth day after, in the very place designed by saint ROBERT, the sea cast up the dead bodies, which by their hands were honoured with Christian burial. VI A HOLY matron (who by the pious persuasions of S. ROBERT S. Robert freed from a fa●se Suspicion by S. Bernard had contemned the gorgeous pride and vanity of the world, and betaken herself to a retired and devout life) was oftentimes visited by the same holy man, to be by his godly instructions daily advanced in the way of virtue. Which thing was a cause of many bad suspicions in the jealous minds of some of his brethren; who judged that current of familiarity to proceed from an impure spring. And now they had infected the ears of many with their misdeeming opinion, till their complaints arrived to the knowledge of the great Patron of his Order saint BERNARD Abbot of Clarevall in France. To whom saint ROBERT went in person: and he having had a revelation of his great same and merits, took him secretly aside, and said: Brother ROBERT, those things are most false which the sinister suspicion of many hath bruited abroad against thy innocence: And in testimony of his love, he gave him a girdle, which afterwards by the merits of them both, gave the benefit of health to many sick persons. VII. THIS holy Confessor was wont oftentimes to visit the blessed Hermit GODRICK, between whom past many pious discourses of the diseases of vices and the remedies of virtues, as allsoe of the heavenly secrets, angelical visitations, and the Patronage of the Saints, spending whole nights and days in the delightful mixture of such divine speeches. But here I must admonish my good reader An error in the History of his life. corrected. that there is a mistake slipped into the life of saint ROBERT set forth by Surius, when it is said that saint GODRICK heard the confessions of saint ROBERT: for saint GODRICK (as we have said in his life the 21. May) was a man wholly without learning, and never made Priest Perchance Surius correcting the stile of the Author, destroyed the sense; for in joannes Anglicus recited by Capgrane We find contrariwise that saint ROBERT (who used oftentimes to visit saint GODRICK) was his Physician in matter of confession and conscience. Therefore let not this error in Surius deceive my reader, as already it hath done many others who are unacquainted with our English histories. VIII. BUT this holy Abbot saint ROBERT when he had gloriously finished the spiritual conflict of a monastical life which he had undertaken in this mortal world, yielded up his blessed soul to receive the immortal prize and reward of his labours in heaven. And S. Godrick hath a vision of his glory at the same instant, the forenamed saint GODRICK (being then in his cell in the Hermitage of Finckley) saw his soul in the form of a fiery globe, carried up in great glory to the heavenly Kingdoms, by the ministry and assistance of angelical hands. He died the seaventh day of June, in the year of our salvation 1159. He was buried in his own Monastery called New Abbey, where his tomb was famous for many miracles; there the blind received their sight, the dumb their speech, the lame the use of their limbs, and many others the benefit of their desired health. The memory of Saint ROBERT was famous in times passed at Knaresborow in Yorkshire, where by some he is reported to have led an Heremitical life. But whether that saint ROBERT be the same of whom now we treat, I dare not certainly affirm, especially because the Authors of his life do make no mention that ever he was an Hermit. The history of his life we have taken out of the Author thereof recited by Surius tom. 3. the same it set down by john Capgrave out of joannes Anglicus. The Roman Martirologe, Molanus in his additions to Vsuard, Matthew Paris anno 1238. Matthew Westminster in the same year do make worthy mention of him. The life of Saint WILLIAM Archbishop of York, and Confessor. JUNE 8. Gathered out of diverse Authors. SAINT WILLIAM borne of noble Parents, Count Herbert, and Emma Sister to King Stephen of England, excelled the splendour of his parentage, with the bright lustre of his virtues, and the heavenly graces and gifts wherewith he was adorned by the divine goodness of almighty God. When his tender years began to be more sound governed with the raynes of discretion, he also endeavoured carefully to rule his life with all the pious discipline of good manners. Till by the daily increase of his virtues and holy conversation he purchased unto himself advancement to Ecclesiastical dignity, and was chosen treasurer of the Church of York He is made Treasurer of the Church of York. under. Thurstin Archbishop of the same Sea. When WILLIAM judging no treasure to be more precious than that which succoureth those that suffer want, made his riches serve to enrich the poor and needy, At length, Thurstin the Archbishop having paid the tribute of nature unto death, our WILLIAM, being found to be a man in whom the virtues of meekness, piety, & charity did a bound, was by the common consent of the Canons chosen to succeed in He is falsely accused. the government of that sea. But by the factious and turbulent resistance of Osbert Archdeacon of the same Church, & by the many false complaints and crimes which he and his adherents preferred to the court of Rome against this election, the matter was held in suspense and controversy for five year's space, albeit the acclamations of the Clergy, and the general applause of the people not only testified the innocence of S. WILLIAM, but allsoe proclaimed him to be a worthy lover of justice and good life. II. AT length Eugenius a Cistercian Monk succeeding in the Roman Primacy, pronounced his sentence for Henry Mordach a pious Monk of the same profession (who was sustained by Osbert the Archdeacon) not that he judged WILLIAM unfit for the dignity, but because he was more inclined to the other, being a man of his own order. Therefore the same of saint WILLIAM being thus unjustly His great patience. torn with the venomous detractions of his adversaries, he made use of no other weapons for his own defence in all these broils but the bucklar of a contented patience, with which and the unshaken constancy of a virtuous mind he conquered all his troubles. He retired himself to Henry Bishop of Winchester, of whom (being his Uncle) he was so courteously entertained, that he made his whole family to be observant and dutiful unto him. But the holyman abhorring the pomp of the world, affecting more the solitariness of a retired life, contented himself His pious life, and exercises, with a little corner of the Bishop's house, where he piously spent his time in watching, fasting, and prayer, and the contemplation of divine and heavenly things. He rejoiced to have found the leisure of this good occasion to bewail the faults of his life past, and to drown the revengeful flames of the pains due thereunto, with the sorrowful streams of his devout tears. He lived in great silence and tranquillity, suffering no vain word or idle speech to hinder his mind from the continual contemplation of the divine goodness. In a word, he led so holy a life, full of virtue and goods works that those that beheld him, seemed to see in him an angelical creature in a humane shape. III. BUT after the course of seven years in one and the same day Pope Engenius and Henry Archbishop of York changed this life for a better, whose death was by a divine revelation made known to He is made Archbishop of York. saint WILLIAM. Then the Canons of York again made choice of him to succeed in that Sea. Who going to Rome, had his election confirmed by Pope Anastasius, was by him consecrated Bishop, and adorned with the honour of the archiepiscopal pall. Which done, he returned into England, and at Canturbury, he was for honour's sake courteously visited by Roger Archdeacon of the same city, of whom (he being departed) saint WILLIAM thus foretold to his own company: This is the He foretelleth his successor. man (said he) that after my death, shall succeed in my place. Which prophesy the event proved true: so admirable were the divine gifts and favours wherewith almighty God ennobled this holy man beyond the common lot of other mortals. Amongst which this heavenly benefit following is worthy of eternal memory. iv FOR WHEN almost an infinite multitude of people of all ages, sexes, and conditions came to meet him and congratulate his return towards York, as they pasled in violent throngs over a wooden bridge after the holyman, the same bridge broke suddenly under them, and let a great company fall headlong Note a wonderful miracle. into the river. Which the Bishop (who was newly passed over) perceaving, being strucken in mind with the vehemency of a sudden sorrow to see so many innocent people in the imminent danger of their lives; and full of compassionate tears, with his hands and eyes lifted up towards heaven, he implored the divine mercy for the health of those perishing creatures, and blessed them with the sign of life: when so miraculously he enjoyed his holy purpose and desire, that to the wonderful amazement of all, and the great glory of God and his Saint, they were all saved from the danger of drowning, albeit (for the greater renown of the miracle) a great part of them were children wholly unable to shift for themselves. To S Williams death. whom as by his prayers he gave life, so the thirtieth day after his entrance into the city of York, he deposed his own mortal life, to be clothed with the heavenly and immortal, loaden with all manner of virtues, merits, and good works, that belonged to the function of a most holy Prelate. And the innumerable benefits bestowed upon many miserable and afflicted persons Miracles at his tomb. at his tomb, were so many powerful witnesses, that beyond all exception proved of how great grace and glory he was, in the sight of almighty God. Nay which is more, a wonderful oil, most sovereign against all diseases flowed out of his sacred body, which was carefully received, and used by devout people. He died the eight day of june, about the year of our redemption 1154. But an hundred thirty one years after his death, his sacred bones were taken out of the ground, and placed in an eminent place in the Church of York, in a very precious and rich shrine, where thy were reserved with great reverence and veneration till the fatal destruction of all Churches and religion in the unhappy reign of Henry the eight. His life we have gathered out of William of Newberry lib. 1. cap. 17. & 27. Nicholas Harpsfield saec. 12. cap. 41. joannes Anglicus recited by john Capgrave, and Polidore Virgil lib. 12 who allsoe speaketh of his Canonization. Vsuard and Molanus in their Martirologes make mention of S. William. The life of saint COLUMBA Abbot and Confessor. JUNE 9 Written by Adamnanus Abbot, who flourished in the year 690, THE glorious Abbot and venerable father and Founder of many Monasteries Saint COLUMBA, borne in Jreland of noble parents, was from his very infancy much inclined to embrace all true Christian virtues, to follow the studies of wisdom, and to keep himself chaste, pure, and entire in body and soul from the infectious venom and vanities of the world. He was of an angelical countenance, nea●e in his speech, holy in his works, sound in his judgement, provident in giving counsel, and excellent in wit. He suffered no one hour to pass, wherein he did no apply himself to prayer, reading, writing, or some other good work. He was so unwearied in the labours of fasting, and watching, and His continual labour. s●e strongly exercised himself therein night and day without intermission, that the weight and greatness of those employments seemed to exceed the possibility of humane nature. And amidst all bearing always a joyful countenance he became most grateful and dear unto all men. To the age of thirty four years he lived in Ireland, in the continual exercise of a most holy life. But in the year of our Lord five hundred sixty five he came into the Island of great Britain to announce the faith of CHRIST to the northern Picts, whom by his zealous preaching, virtuous example, and miraculous works he converted to the Christian Faith; so that by a just title he is termed their Apostle. In one of the Orkney Lands on the north side of Scotland he built a famous Monastery, and furnished it with a great Convent of Monks, whom he governed as He buildeth the Monastery of Hoy. Abbot in all holiness of life and conversation, to the age of threescore and seaventeen years, when loaden with many merits and good works he ended this mortal life to enter into the immortal which never ends. He was first buried in the same Monastery, which from him was called Columbkill, or Columbs-Cell, but afterwards his holy relics were translated to Dune in Jreland, and laid in the same tomb with great saint PATRICK and saint BRIGITT; according to this Epitaphe, In Burgo Duno tumulo tumulantur in uno, Brigida, Patricius, atque Columba pius. During his life he founded many other Monasteries both in Jreland He foundeth many Monasteries. and elsewhere, in which he gained many thousands of souls to God out of the dangerous paths of this world. But if we should go about to set down in particular the miraculous works, excellent virtues, prophetical revelations, angelical apparitions, and all the heavenly and divine gifts and graces which almighty God largely bestowed upon this holy man, it would require a whole volume apart. And after all our best endeavours employed therein, we should come so fare short of worthily declaring his worthy deeds that I have chosen rather ro pass them over in silence, then with a rude pen rudely to decipher them to the world. He died the ninth of June, on which day his memory hath heretofore been celebrated with great solemnity, especially in Ireland, as his proper Office in a Breviary of that counrrey doth testify. His life is very largely written by Adamnanus Abbot of the Monastery of Hoy. The Roman Martirologe, Venerable Bede de gest. Angl. lib. 3. cap. 4. and lib. 5. cap. 10. Notkerus Balbulus in his martirologe, Henry Huntingdon lib. 3. hist. Ang. fol. 330. Cardinal Baronius in his Annotations on the Roman Martirologe, and many other grave Authors do make honourable mention of him. The life of Saint MARGARET Queen of Scotland. JUNE 10 Written by Aluredus Abbot of Rhievall. AFTER the death of Edmund King of England, who from the great strength of body was surnamed Iron-side, Canutus King of Denmark and conqueror of England) being himself ashamed to put to death his two sons Edmund and Edward by reason of the league made with their father) sent them to the King of Suevia to be murdered: who moved with compassion, presented them Parents of S Margaret. to Solomon King of Hungary to be preserved. But Edmund dying without children, Edward his younger brother married Agatha daughter to the Emperor, which marriage was blessed with a daughter called MARGARET, afterwards Queen of Scotland, who according to her name appeared indeed as a precious Margarite before God and man. For in the prime of her flourishing age (when others of such royal birth are wont to decline to the vain pleasures of the world) she began to order her life according to the rules of continency, to love God above all things, to apply herself to the reading of divine learning, and with a delight to exercise and follow the rules and precepts of her reading. Afterwards (compelled by the importunity of her friends more She marrieth Malcoline King of Scotland. than her own desires) she was given in marriage to Malcoline King of Scotland; when allbeit necessity constrained her to deal in worldly affairs, yet she never so tied her mind thereto, as to forget or omit her spiritual exercise: for she was more delighted with doing good works, then in the royal possession of her wealth and riches. By her prudent counsel, discretion, and industry, the laws of the realm were maintained, and the Catholic religion increased. Then her, nothing was more firm in faith, more constant in patience, graver in counsel, juster in giving judgement, and pleasanter in discourse. II. MOREOVER, she was wonderfully liberal to adorn Churches, Her liberality to the Churches. enriching them with gold and silver vessels and very precious ornaments: in the place where her royal wedding was celebrated she built a fair Church in honour of the holy Trinity, and beautified it with great store of riches, and amongst others with a fair Crucifix garnished with gold and many precious stones. She governed her family in the love and fear of God, and especially her The government of her children and family. children, whom she would herself instruct oftentimes in Christian doctrine; using so sweet a severity, and so severe a sweetness towards those under her charge, that they all loved her with fear, and feared her with love; in so much that no man in her presence durst presume to speak an unseemly word. Nay besides the often admonitions, and continual instructions of her children, this pious Mother (who may rightly be termed the Margurite of mothers) would daily pour out her devout prayers and tears for them, that having attained to the knowledge of almighty God, they might truly serve him, and by serving him come to his love, and by his divine love purchase eternal happiness with his Saints. Many times all so she would put the She moveth the King to good works. King her husband in mind to exercise the works of justice, mercy, almsdeeds, and all other acts of Christian virtues, whom by the inward working of almighty God in his soul, she made to be most obedient to all good things. In sum, she omitted nothing that belonged either to the maintenance of Christian religion and piety, or the prudent government of the Kingdom. III. WHEN the king went in progress over the realm with his court and a great train of attendants, this holy Queen kept his followers in so good order, that no man durst attempt to steal any thign by the way, nor wrong or oppress the poor A rare virtue in so great a dame. country people in the jest. And as in all things she was careful to correct faults in others, so was she most patiented and willing to have her own reprehended by others. And to this end she would herself oftentimes desire her Confessor to give her notice of whatsoever in her words or deeds was worthy reprehension, desiring that for an increase of virtue which others are wont to take as a calumny: According to the counsel of the royal Psalmist; Let the just man correct me in mercy, and rebuke m●● but Psal. 140. let not the oil (that is the flattery) of a Sinner fatten my head. iv SHE was careful allsoe to correct many errors and bad She correcteth an erronr in keeping the Lent. customs which had crept into the Scottish Kingdom, against the universal practice of the Catholic Church. First she reform an abuse touching the observance of Lent. For the Scots began not their Lent till the monday after Ashwensday, endeavouring to cover their error with the authority of the Scripture, which relating the fast of Christ, proposeth but forty days to be observed. But she on the other side, in an assembly before the King, made it plainly appear, that taking away the six Sundays (on which the Church is not wont to fast) there would remain but thirty six days, and therefore the four days of the precedent week ought to be reckoned in the number of fasting-days, to make up the just sum of forty days, and that for this cause they ought to begin the Lent upon Ashwensday. Moreover, (when many And an other touching communion at Easter. 1. Cor. 11. refused to receive the Sacrament of the Eucharist at Easter, alleging their own unworthiness and these words of the Apostle, He that eateth & drinketh it unworthily, eateth & drinketh his own judgement,) she shown them that to compare the worth of that dreadful Sacrament with our unworthiness, is no comparison, for he that is most worthy, is in some kind, unworthy considering the infinite worth of that excellent Sacrament: nevertheless although we be all indeed Sinners, yet we may have recourse to the sacrament of Peanance, which is instituted to reconcile sinners to our Lord, who saith; Unless ye eat the flesh of the son of man, and drink his blood, ye shall have no life in you. And this is it that the Apostle admonisheth I●an. 6. 53. sinners to do, when he cries Probet autem scips●m ho●●●, & sic de pa●● illo edat, & de chalice bibat. Let every one examine and discuss his own conscience, and by confessing his sins and doing peanance, Who receives the sacrament worthily. come with fear and reverence to to the sacred mysteries, and then he shall not eat his own judgement, as those do who presume to receive that venerable banquet with their souls loaden with the filth of sin. Allsoe she reform many other abuses, touching the due observance of the Sunday, the celebration of Mass, and the sacrament of marriage within the degrees of consanguinity prohibited by the Church, and others. V DISCOURSING at times with her Ghostly father touching the health of her own soul, and the sweetness of everlasting life, her words seemed to 〈◊〉 replenished with a certain divine grace, and herself was touch●● with so great compunction of heart, that she seemed wholly to resolve into tears. During the divine service in the Church she shown so great devotion and attention, that she would never speak word to anieman touching any worldly or secular business, but attended wholly to her prayers, which were oftentimes accompanied with d●uout tears, I 〈◊〉 her singular charity Her charity to the poor. towards the poor, whom she would oftentimes relieve with her greatest jewels, becoming herself more poor them they: for they being in want desired to have riches, and she dispersed all she had. I say nothing of her great care and piety shown to sick persons, orphans, and widows, to whom she was always a most indulgent and pious Mothe●. I pass over in silence the affection & reverence she bore to Hermit's and true religious m●n, whom sometimes she visited, and daily furnished with sufficiency. Every morning she The rare pretty of the King and Queen. nourished nine orphan-childrens, and gave them victuals with her own hands. Besides these her custom was to receive three hundred poor people into the palace, and having 〈◊〉 the doors, she ranged them into order, when the king on the on side, and the Queen on the other, served CHRIST in his poor, and gave them meat with their own hands, pecul●rly provided for that purpose. O the wonderful piety of these royal persons! This done, she went to the Church, where during the time of the holy sacrifice of Mass, she sacrificed herself to almighty God, with the long continuance of many prayers, sighs, and tears. And before the high Mass began, she heard five or six private Masses every day. VI THAN she returned to dinner, rather to maintain life, then Her spare diet. to satisfy the delights of her appetite; for in her diet she was so sober and sparing, that her meals rather sharpened then extinguished her 〈◊〉, and she seemed rather to ●ast then to ●are her meat. Throughout the whole Lent, and forty days before Christmas, she mortified her body with an incredible abstinence; in so much that out of the austerity of her fasting, she endured most sharp pains and gripings in her stomach all the days of her life: but the weakness of her body could nothing weaken the strength of her unconquered virtue. At length falling into a grievous ficknes, she sent for her Confessor 〈◊〉 the second Prior of the Benedictine Monastery of Durham, of w●om (having first declared the manner of her life, and at each word of the consolation which he gave her, poured out whole floods of devout tears) she took her last farewell: for (said she) I shall not long remain in She desireth Masses and prayers after death. this mortal life, and thou wilt shortly follow me. Two things therefore I desire of thee, the first, that during thy life thou be always mindful of me in thy mass and other prayers; the second, that thou take care of my children, and keep them always in the fear of God, lest the prosperity of the world, when they attain to the height of terrene dignity, make them lose the happiness of eternal life. VII. AFTERWARDS the vehemency of her disease increasing, she was notable to rise but seldom out of her bed. But the fourth day The slaughter of King Malcoline before her happy departure (the king being then abroad in a warlike expedition) she grew on the sudden more sad than her wont custom, saying to the assistants; I fear more misfortune hath happened this day to the Kingdom of Scotland, then in many years before. And soon after they understood that the King and his son Edward had that very day lost their lives in the wars. The fourth day after the king's death, her sickness giving some truce to the former vehemency of her pain, she rose and went into her chapel, and armed her approaching end with the last Sacrament, and the Viaticum of our Lords most precious body. Then the cruelty of her griefs laying her again prostrate on her deathbed, she understood, by the new arrival of her son Edgar from the ar●ie, of the late overthrow received by their enemies: when lifting up her hands and eyes towards heaven, she gave infinite thankes unto almighty God, who at the hour of her departure out of this A worthy example of patience. world, had sent her an occasion of so great anguish for a trial of her patience, by the sufferance of which she hoped to be cleansed from some of her former sins. In the mean time, feeling the secret messengers of death to summon her departure, she began devoutly to recite this prayer; Domine jesu Christ, qui ex voluntate Patris cooperante She dio●● happily. spiritu Sancto, per mortem tuam mundum vi●ificasti, libera me; and and at that word, her soul being delivered out of the chains of the body, quietly passed to the Author of all true liberty CHRIST-IESUS, whom so dear she had loved in her life time, being made participant of the happiness of those glorious spirits, whose virtuous examples she had been all ways careful to follow. And her face, which during her sickness was so wane & pale, returned after death to so fair a mixture of a red and white complexion, that to the astonished behoulders, it seemed to set forth the countenance of a sleeping or living body, rather than of one that was dead. She died the tenth day of june, in the year 1097. and was buried in the Church of the Blessed Trinity, which she had built in her life time. The life of this glorious Queen hath been written by S. Alured Abbot of Rhievall recited by Surius tom. 3. and by Turgot second Prior of Durham, whom we have followed. also Deidonatus lib. 12. hist. Scotorum maketh ample mention of her, as allsoe the Roman Martir●loge, Vsuard Molanus and others. The life of Saint EADBURG Virgin and Nun of the holy Order of Saint BENEDICT. JUNE 15. Out of William Malmesbury, and others. EABURG daughter to Edward the Elder, King of England, and Queen Elsgive his wife, Her parents. at the age of three years gave a notable proof of her future sanctity. For her father being desirous to try whether the little infant would be inclined to God or the world, laid the ornaments of diverse professions in his chamber before her, on the one side a chalice and the Gospel, and jewels, rings, and bracelets on the other. Thither the little girl being brought in the arms of her dandling nurse, she was seated on her father's lap, who said. Choose my EADBURG which of these things do most delight thee. She with a countenance, as it were, despising the rest, greedily laid hold on the chalice and book, embracing them with Note her choice of a religiouslife. a childish innocence. The whole company of assistants cried out, that it was an evident presage of future sanctity in the girl, and the father most tenderly kissing & clipping his child; Go thy ways (said he) whither God calls thee, follow happily the divine spouse whom thou hast chosen, and happy indeed may thy mother and I esteem ourselves, being in religion overcome by a daughter. Therefore when riper years allowed her the perfect use of discrecretion, she went to the Benedictine Monastery which her father had She taketh the habit of a Nun. built at Winchester, and put on the habit and profession of a Nun under the holy Rule of saint BENEDICT; when so rarely she conformed her life to the laws of her profession, that by the diligence of her dutiful service she greatly invited all the rest of her sisters and fellow-Nunnes highly to love and honour her. Nether did the greatness of her blood and royal birth make her more nice or backward to undergo the austerity of her profession, because she judged it a thing most glorious to be humbled under the sweet yoke of the service of CHRIST-IESUS. Her sainctirie increased with her age, and her humility flourished with her youthful years; in so A rare example of humility. much that by night she would play the part of a pious thief and steal the socks of all the other nuns, & having carefully washed and anointed them, she restored them again to their bed sides. Wherefore, albeit almighty God hath ennobled her alive with many famous miracles, yet this one example is before all most worthy of praise, that charity began, and humility finished all the works of her whole life. At length passing happily out of this world, Her happy death. her pure and innocent soul was carried on the wings of these two virtues to be perfectly united with her everlasting spouse in heaven, the fifteenth day of june, about the year of our Lord 920. Her body was first buried in the same Monastery, but some of her bones were afterwards translated to the Benedictine Abbey of Pershore in the Diocese of Worcester, where they were reserved with great reverence and devotion at both which places the holiness and integrity of her life was witnessed with many famous miracles, as the governors of the same Churches could affirm, in the time of my Author. The life of S. Eadburg (saith john Pits) is written by one Osbertus Clarentius a Benedictin Monk of Winchester about the year of Christ 1136. which I have not seen. But thus much of her I have taken out of William Malmesbury de reg. lib. 2. cap. 13. and de Episcop. lib. 4. de monasterijs diocesis Vigorn. and Nicholas Harpsfield saec. 10. cap. 8. Mention is made of her by Roger Hovedon priori part. Annal. an. 899. Polidore Virgil lib. 6. Molanus in his additions to Vsuard; Peter de natalibus in his catalogue lib. 11. cap. 69. and others. And in an ancient manuscript breniary of S. benedict's order with belonged to the Monastery of Burton upon Trent, I find her feast celebrated this fisteenth of june, with three lessons and a proper Collect. The life of Saint BOTULPHE Abbot and Confessor, of the holy order of Saint BENEDICT. JUNE 17 Written by Folchard a Monk of Thorney. BOTULPHE, and ADOLPHE brothers borne of noble parents, were both as near of kin in virtue as in birth, and both equally ennobled the nobility of their blood with the resplendent excellency of their holy life. Who (because in England then but newly converted, the Catholic religion, and discipline of a monastical life was not yet established in that perfection as their minds aspired unto) went on pilgrimage over into France or Belgia. Where, because virtue is no where a stranger, but is every where honoured even amongst strangers, ADOLPHE was at length advanced to the sacred dignity of Bishop; and BOTULPHE having been a long time He professeth a religious life. exercised in the stricter discipline of a monastical life together with his brother, and put on the habit and profession of a Monk under the holy rule of S. BENEDICT, resolved to return into his own country, being courteously recommended to ETHELMUND king of the Southsaxons, by his two Sisters, who at that time led a religious life in France. Therefore S. BOTULPHE having passed the seas was kindly entertained by king Ethelmund, who having understood the desire of his sisters, gave him a piece of land in Lincolne●hire not fare from the city of Lincoln. The name of the place was Icanhoe, a forsaken habited desert, where nothing but devils and goblins were thought to dwell. But S. BOTULPHE with the virtue & sign of the holy Cross freed it from the possession of those hellish He buildeth a Monastery inhabitants, and by the means and help of Ethelmund, built a monastery therein, which he filled with a Convent of religious monks under the rule of our holy father S. BENEDICT. II. THESE he governed both by word, work, and example, according to the stricter discipline of a monastical life which he had learned in foreign countries, drawing them by the mildness of his daily pious admonitions to embrace the sweet austerity of a virtuous and holy life; in so much that he was highly esteemed and His piety in sickness. beloved of all, and by a special favour of almighty God, ennobled with the gift of prophecy and working of many miracles. Being oppressed with sickness of body, he imitated the patience of holy job, and gave infinite thankes unto the divine goodness for that visitation, all ways discoursing of the soul's departure out of the body, and of the joys of everlasting happiness which followed. With these and such like pious exercises he spent his whole time till he attained to the happiness to be by old age overtaken in the divine service. When the end of his life drawing near, and the vehemency of his sickness increasing, he ceased not to exhort his devout children carefully to observe the rules of monsticall life which he had planted amongst them, and to maintain peace and charity in the Monastery: Till adorned with the long studies of all virtues, this untired H●s happy death. champion of CHRIT, being oppressed with the cruelty of a tedious disease of body, yielded up his blessed soul out of her mortal habitation to the immortal reward of her labours, the seaventeenth day of june, about the year of our Lord 680. He was buried in the same Monastery, where his memory was yearly celebrated, being famous for miracles both in his life and after his death. But that place being afterwards destroyed by the Danes, the worthy restorer of the Benedictine discipline S. ETHELWOLD bishop of Winchester caused his sacred relics to be taken up and translated to the Translation of his body two Benedictine abbeys Ely and Thorney. And it hath been found written in the book of S. BOTULPHES Church near Alderg●●e in London, that part of his holy body was, by King Edward, given to the Abbey of Winchester. The memory of this glorious Saint hath in former times been very famous in our Island of great Britain, and in Lincolnshire there remains yet a renowned town which from his name was called Botulphs-Towne, but now by corruption of the word is named B●ston, situate on the banks of the river Witham. His life hath been written by Folchard a monk of Thorney, and by joannes Anglicus recited by john Capgrave in his legend of English Saints. S. Bede in his history of England, Florentius Wigorniensis an 654. Matthew Westminster in the same year, Nicholas Harpsfied saec. 7. cap. 24. William Camden in descriptione comitatus Lincol●i●, Molanus in his additions to Vsuard, and many others make worthy i●e●tion of him. And in an anncient Breviary of S. benedict's Order which belonged to the Monastery of Burton upon Trent, I find his death celebrated with an office of three Lessons. decorative device depiction of the martyrdom of St. Alban S. ALBANUS PROTOMARTIR IN ANGLIA. junij 22 〈…〉 The life of Saint ALBAN the first Martyr of Great Britain. JUNE 22 Out of Venerable Bede, and an ancient manuscript of S. Alban. WHEN the bloody persecution which the two cruel Emperors Diocletian, and Maximian raised against the Catholic Church raged over the world, the fury thereof was so cruelly outrageous that it could not be contained within the bounds of the Ocean, but poured itself out in cruelty even into the remotest Lands of the Christian world, and amongst others into our famous Island of Great Britain. Where saint ALBAN was the captain and leader of that sacred warfare; who being a citizen of the ancient City of Verulam (which The place of his birth. at that time was a Colony under the Roman Emperors) and borne of a famous stock, received first the Christian faith by the precepts and instructions of the most holy martyr Amphibaluss of whom allsoe we must in this history make often and honourable mention. For after that by preaching he had purchased other countries to CHRIST, being enkindled with an ardent zeal of gaining more and more souls to God's Church, he came to Verulam, where first with courteous hospitality he was entertained by our ALBAN as yet a Heathen. But understanding that his new guest Amphibalus was He defireth to know the points of faith. not only a professor but a teacher all so of the Christian name, he was desirous to hear him discourse of the assertion of his faith, and Amphibalus was as eager to give his Host an account thereof, hoping to win him to the same profession. Therefore he shown him how almighty God consisting of one essence & three persons so dearly loved the world, that he sent the second person in Trinity his only Son from heaven, as a witness and messenger of his love, for the reconciliation and redemption of mankind. Who when he was true God of God, yet so fare he humbled himself for our health's sake, that he vouchsafed to take humane flesh upon him, and be borne of a Virgin, albeit he were the maker and creator of the same flesh and of his mother the Virgin. And these (said he) are the principles of our Faith, these by the instruction of the holy Ghost were many ages ago known and foretold by many of the jews, and since confirmed by the wonderful works of CHRIST himself, and received by the common consent of almost all nations: and in embracing of these points consisteth the height of all felicity, and perpetual misery followeth all that deny them. II. BUT at first ALBAN seemed to laugh at these things and contemn them, and to hold the teacher of them himself not only to He laugheth at the mysteries of Faith. be vain in his doctrine but allsoe scarce sound in his wits, in avoching such, paradoxes so abhorring (as he thought) from all sense and reason. For who can be brought to believe (said he) that (said he) that God had a Son, and the same soon to be made man, and borne of a Virgin without a father, and she to remain both a Virgin and a Mother? In sum, that day's discourse was broken off, and ALBAN being displeased with Amphibalus and his doctrine, went to please his troubled mind in his bed: whilst his holy teacher Amphibalus, sorrowful that his words had taken no deeper root in the mind of his kind Host, and still remaining careful for his soul's health, betook himself to his prayers in steed of sleep: nether was his petition to almighty God in vain. For ALBAN being oppressed under the heavy wings of sleep, seemed to behold His vision being asleep. the whole tragedy of our Lords sacred passion so perfectly acted before him, that to his imagination it appeared not so much to be in a dream, as in very deed represented to his corporal sight. Terrified therefore out of his sleep with the strangeness of this vision, he went forthwith to Amphibalus, and desired him (if those things which he preached of CHRIST were true) to expound allsoe the meaning and interpretation of his dream. Who (having first given thankes unto almighty God for so wonderful a vocation of his beloved Host) drew out a Crucifix Amphibalus expoundeth his dream. which he always carried about him, and shown in that sign how he might plainly understand what his nightly vision did portend. And following on with a declaration of CHRIST'S Gospel and passion, conformeable to what he had seen in his sleep, he so solidly discovered the mystery of CHRIST crucified, that there was no place for any doubt left in the mind of ALBAN, so powerfully the holy Ghost had planted the truth of faith in his soul. By whose sacred unction ALBAN Note the strange & sudden eonuersion of S. Alban. being wholly replenished with unusual sweetness and contentment of mind, desired now nether teacher nor arguments to instruct him, but of his own accord detesteth his false Gods, abiureth his Idols, professeth to acknowledge no other God, to believe no other in his heart, to confess no other with his mouth, but God the father, and his son CHRIST-IESUS, and him crucified. He admireth the greatness of the divine piety and goodness in the redemption of mankind; and begins wholly to be inflamed with his love, who vouchsafed first so to love humane frailty, that he undertook not only our nature, but allsoe all the miseries adherent thereunto, as also a most shameful death itself, to redeem man from the tyranny of eternal death, to the glory of God's elect people. Nay falling He worshippeth the Crucifix. prostrate before the Cross, as if he had seen CHRIST himself really hangging thereon, he embraceth and kisseth his wounds, gives him infinite thankes for calling him to the knowledge of his faith, being wholly carried beyond himself to think how to appear worthily grateful for the benefit of so undeserved a vocation. Therefore he bade adieu to all worldly pleasures, and embraced tears and sighs for his greatest delights, all other things he contemned, that he might gain CHRIST alone for all; in him he placed all his hope, and love; to him he so perfectly vowed himself and all he had, that he would rather a thousand times endure to be rob of this life, then to be separated from the faith and charity of his dear redeemer. III. IN the confession of these and such like things Amphibalus admitted ALBAN to the purifying grace of Baptism, and at his He is baptised. earnest entreaty remained there some days, more amply to instruct him in all things that belonged to the profession of his received religion. But in the mean time the renowned name of ALBAN, and the fame of this fact (albeit secretly performed) made, that it came to the ears and knowledge of the enemies of the Christian cause, who envying the advancement thereof, made complaint unto the judge of the city. And he forth with commanded both the master and the disciple to be cited to appear before him; which cruell-minded decree was soon made known to saint ALBAN. Who desiring by all means to prevent the deceits of the prince, exhorted Amphibalus to Amphibalus flieth into Wales. departed secretly out of town, giving him a rich garment of his own (which at that time was of great dignity and reverence with all men) thereby to pass with more security through his enemies. But he himself retained his Master's poor habit for his own use, knowing for certain that the very sight thereof would more vehemently incense the fury of his and CHRIST'S cruel enemies against him. Therefore the sun had scarce cleared the day following, but Amphibalus took leave of his dear scholar, when the tears shed on each side, witnessed the greatness of their mutual love. Amphibalus hastened into Wales, there to preach the faith of CHRIST, and find out a place of martyrdom: and ALBAN clothed in his master's weeds, expected the same glory at Ver●da●, which afterwards he most gloriously obtained. iv FOR the same day the furious officers broke violently into his S. Alban is apprehended. lodging, searched narrowly in every corner thereof, and filled the whole house with noise and tumult. Till coming to the little cottage (where he and his Master had piously spent their time the days before) they found S. ALBAN in a strange habit, barefcot, humbly praying before the sign of CHRIST'S holy Cross. Then rushing furiously in troops upon him, they apprehended him, bound him, and violently haled him, some by the garments some by the hair, to the presence of the judge, who at that time in a great assembly of people was bysily employed in offering sacrifice to his diabolical Idols. But seeing ALBAN led in that manner, his heart boiled with rage and fury against him, because of his own accord he perceived him bend to hazard his life for Amphibalus whom he had entertained: Therefore he commanded him to be drawn before the Idols, threatening to make him suffer all the torments due unto his sacrilegious guest (so his wicked tongue termed holy Amphibalus) because as a contemner of the Gods, he had presumed to conceal him from the officers, and now seemed himself to be departed from the profession of his ancient religion. But S. ALBAN He contemneth the threats of the judge (who had willingly betrayed himself to the persecutors of the Christian faith) without any sign of fear, let pass the storm of the Prince's threats and fury; and armed with the shield of the spiritual warfare, boldly and plainly affirmed that he would not obey his command. Then the judge demanded of what family and race he was? It appertains not to thee (answered ALBAN) to know my lineage, but if thou desirest to understand the truth of my religion, know that I am a Christian, and one that embraceth all Christian duties. My Parents called me ALBAN, and I adore and worship the true living God the maker and creator of all things. Then the judge swelling with wrath and fury; If thou desire (said he) to enjoy the happiness of life, offer forthwith sacrifice to our great Gods. These sacrifices (replied saint ALBAN) which by you are offered to devils, can neither help the supplicant sacrificers, nor accomplish the end of their desires, but reward them in the end with the everlasting torments of Hell. V AT THESE words the judge could no longer contain his fury, but commanded the holy Confessor of CHRIST to be cruelly beaten He is cruelly beaten. and tormented, hoping with stripes to overthrew the resolution of his constancy, which with words he could not move. Therefore the Lictours executed their office of cruelty upon his holy body in most rude manner, when amidst the noise of their pitiless whips, he joyfully called upon the name of our Lord JESUS-CHRIST, making a willing oblation and sacrifice of himself to his divine goodness: Till the tormentors being wearied with their vain punishing, and he nothing wearied with constant suffering, the people obtained to have him imprisoned for the space of six He is committed to prison. months, hoping that time would wear out the purpose of his resolution. In the mean while the heavens witnessed the injury done to the holy Martyr; for from the first day of his apprehension to the day of his martyrdom, such an intolerable drought by the extremity of the sun's heat raged in that Province, that the fruits of the earth were quite burnt up and destroyed. Which the Heathens (whose hearts nevertheless were frozen up against the holy flames of true charity) judged to be done by the art magic of the imprisoned Christian. Therefore the wisest of the country being assembled together to discuss this point, saint ALBAN was called out of the horror of the prison to answer for himself at the bar He is released. of their examination. And being found, Not guilty, they all griened at the injury, and suffered in his sufferings; in so much that a sedition being risen amongst the citizens and his friends, all stood up in his defence, and freed him out of his beloved chains (by which they thought him injured, having all ways had the name and fame of a man of good life) that he might render an account of his deeds before the judge. But saint ALBAN taking this kind of mercy as an act of the greatest cruelty, greatly feared lest his martyrdom should be deferred. He exclaymeth a 'gainst Idols. VI THEREFORE standing in the midst of the whole assembly, he made a new invective declamation against the weakness of their profane Gods, and their blind folly in worshipping those blind Idols: whereby they were all incensed afresh against him and with one voice pronounced him guilty of death. Then arose a great contention amongst them in defining with what kind of death to punish him, some as a disciple of the Crucifix judged him to be crucified, others would have him buried alive, as enemy to their Gods, the rest thought fit to have his eyes digged out and sent so to seek out his Master Amphibalus. In fine, the ●udge and all the people agreed, He is condemned to death. and condemned him to lose his head. Therefore being again bound in chains, he was rudely dragged to the designed place of his Martirdom called Holmhurst, on the top of a fair plain hill, whose pleasantness seemed worthy to be consecrated with the blood of our glorious Martyr. But the thronging multitudes of people that hastened to see this strange spectacle were so great, that coming to a large river over which they must pass to the hill, the bridge being not able to receive them, many that for haste endeavoured to wade or swim over, were by the fury of those wild streams carried down to an untimely death. Mean while S. ALBAN much grieved in mind to see the ruin of those perishing souls, and perceaving his journey to the desired place of martyrdom to be hindered by that huge concourse of people, fell down on his knees, and humbly made his prayer to him whose side flowed water and blood for the redemption of the world, to give a safe passage to that people so desirous to be present at his death. Then by the almighty power A notable miracle. of him that divided the red sea for the Israelites, the fury of that great river was stopped, and the channel made dry for the holy Martyr to pass: the flowing of his prayers and tears before almighty God took from the river the power of flowing, and laid open a fair passage for himself and the people through the waters. VII. BUT the virtue of this wonderful miracle gave grace to the Officer that was apppointed to be ALBANS executioner, to cast off all The executioner converted thought of such like wolvish cruelty, and become a meek lamb of CHRIST'S flock. For throwing away his sword that should have done that bloody deed, he fell prostrate at the holy Martyr's feet, confessed his error, and humbly demanded pardon; crying aloud that there was no other true God but the God of the Christians, and earnestly desiring to die in steed of him whom he was commanded to put to death. But his belief moved the rest of those ministers of mischief to greater rage and fury, and falling upon that new Confessor of CHRIST, they beat out his teeth, tore his mouth that had given testimony to the truth, and so bruised all his limbs with cruel blows, that in his whole body scarce any one part was left unhurt, yet in heart he remained firm and sound in the confession of his faith. But leaving this wretched creature in that miserable plight, they arrived at length Is cruelly beaten. to the top of the hill, where an infinite number of people were expecting to behold the action of this tragical scene. Who being generally tormented with an extremity of heat & drought, He obtaineth a fountain by his prayers. S. ALBAN by his prayers obtained to have a clear fountain spring out of that dried earth, by which the multitude quenched their thirst, yet always thirsted for the effusion of his blood by whose merits they had received that benefit: so great was the ungrateful cruelty, & cruel ingratitude of their blinded minds, which ascribed all these most sensible miracles to the power of their own senseless Gods. VIII. THEREFORE whetting still the edge of their own fury on the unshaken rock of the holy Martyr's constancy and virtue, they He is beheaded. were more and more incensed to the shedding of his innocent blood. A new executioner was chosen, to give the deadly blow for them all, who at once made a cruel separation of his head from the body, that his blessed soul might take a happy flight to the crown of everlasting life, which our Lord hath promised to those that suffer for his sake. But the cruel executioner was not permitted to triumph in his wicked fact; for his eyes (ashamed as it were to The punishment of his executioner. behold their Master's cruelty) fell miraculously out of his head, at the very instant that he gave the Martyr his death: so that losing the guides that had directed him to do what he did, he lost allsoe the power to see what he had done. Which miracle caused many of the Gentiles there present to confess, that he was justly punished. Mean while the poor soldier, whom they had left half dead below, had cralled to the top of the hill, and coming to the holy body of saint ALBAN, he was presently restored again to the perfect use of all his limbs. But that happiness was soon after seconded with a fare greater, for making profession of the faith of A soldier martyred. CHRIST, he was forthwith beheaded, and by being baptised in his own blood, was made worthy to follow his leader saint ALBAN into the everlasting joys of CHRIST-IESUS, the eternal crown and glory of his Martyrs. S. ALBAN was martyred about the year of our salvation three hundred and three, and his body was buried in the same place of his martyrdom. IX. BUT about the year of our Lord four hundred forty six and an hundred forty three years after the passion of S. ALBAN, the Pelagian Heresy, as over the rest of the world, so chiefly it reigned in great Britain, in which it is reported to have first begun. To suppress this infection saint GERMAN Bishop of Au●er The Pelagian heresy suppressed. and Lupus Bishop of Troy came out of France into our Island, by the force of whose arguments and miracles the impudent mouths of the Pelagians were stopped. And at that very time many great miracles and cures of diseased persons being wrought at the sacred tomb of S. ALBAN, thither the holy Bishops went for devotion sake, to give thankes unto almighty God for their success; and S. GERMAN having opened the holy monument, laid therein many relics of the Apostles and other Martyrs, that the same place might contain the bones of them whose souls enjoyed one and the same glory in heaven. Which done, he took thence some part of the earth which had received the holy Martyr's blood, and which yet blushed therewith, to be by him reserved as a most precious treasure, The ancient Britan's over come by the Saxons. and a worthy reward of his labour. Afterwards the English and Saxons that were Pagans, like unto a furious tempest invaded the Island of great Britain, and by force of arms driven the ancient inhabitants thereof to the mountains and farthest parts of the country, now called Wales, persecuting not only the men but the Christian faith which they professed. Then amongst others the ancient city of Verulam being destroyed, and all sacred monuments and Churches demolished, the memory of the glorious Martyr Saint ALBAN was extinguished for the space of three hundred forty four years, and to the reign of the most famous King of the Mercians, Ossa, who (following a divine revelation that commanded him to search out those holy relics, and place them in a more worthy monument) assembled the people and Clergy together, and armed with fasting and prayer they ascended the mountain where the holy Martyr suffered. In the mean time the divine goodness, that would not have that treasure lie hid any longer, sent forth a heavenly splendour which glittered over his sepulchre, and lighted them to find out those desired relics. For having digged in the same place, they found his sacred body in a The invention of S. Alban body. wooden chest, together with the relics of the Apostles and Martyrs which Saint GERMAN had placed therein. Therefore the King and whole assembly being replenished with inestimable joy, translated that sacred treasure with great veneration and solemnity, singing of hymns and praises to almighty, into an ancient Church near Verulam, built in times passed to the name and honour of saint ALBAN, where in a very rich shrine made of gold and silver and adorned with precious gems, they reposed those sacred spoils. Whereby it is made manifest, that as in times passed to Lucian Priest the body of the Protomartir of jury saint STEPHEN, and to King Dagobert the relics of saint DENIS the first Martyr of France, so to our noble Offa almighty God miraculously revealed the body of the prime Martyr of great Britain S. ALBAN. But this invention and translation of S. ALBAN happened in the year 794. the first day of August. X. IN the mean time king Offa built & founded a most magnificent King O●●a foundeth a Benedictine Abbey to S. Albau. Church and a Monastery for the Benedictine Monks, to the honour of S. ALBAN in the very same place where the holy Martyr had shed his blood for the Christian faith. This Monastery he not only adorned with great wealth and revenues, but went himself to Rome, and obtained for it large and ample privileges of Pope Adrian, whereby it was exempted from all Episeopall power and jurisdiction, and by the royal charter of Offa, the exercise of all civil authority within the territorre thereof, was delivered into the hands of the Abbott. And lastly Pope Adrian defined, in his Privilege granted thereunto, that as S. ALBAN (whom at the earnest desire of King Offa, & the whole country he had enroled into the number of canonised Saint) was known to be the first Martyr of Britain, so the Abbot of his Monastery should always have the precedence before all the other Abbots of that Country, and that Abbey be accounted the principal and head of the rest. The Abbots of this S. Alban the head ab●ey of England. Monastery in times past were Barons of the realm, and Parliament men, and from the Abbey the town built there abou●s to this present called by the name of Sainct-Albans. XI. BUT a fare greater and more excellent honour came to this Monastery by the wonderful miracles which almighty God wrought there by the merits of this glorious Martyr S. ALBAN, then by all the other glory of privileges, wealth, and riches added thereunto. Nay more; the whole country received infinite benefits of cures of all manner of diseases, as we may understand out of Venerable BEDE, an Author beyond all exception (who avoucheth miracles wrought there even unto his time) and by the ancient annals of the same Monastery, wherein the wonders which yearly happened are diligently and faithfully set down. Let us hear the Authors themselves make an Affidavit of their own sincerity. Whatsoever we go about to relate (say they) of the holy Martyr, let no man esteem as feigned or frivolous, for we take God to witness that they are such, as either we have seen with our own eyes, or heard reported by men of approved credit. Out of which it shall Miracles wrought at his Tomb. suffice us for the glory of our Protomartir briefly to rehearse some few. 1. His relics being opposed to a furious fire oftentimes extinguished it. 2. In extremity of drought his holy body being carried in procession with the usual Litanies and supplications of the Church, obtained rain; and in time of immoderate rain purchased fair weather. 3. Those that by an injurious violence presumed to rob him of land or riches dedicated to his honour, were oftentimes punished with a miserable end. 4. One A notable punishment. Hugh, who with an impious mouth uttered reproachful speeches against the blessed Martyr and his sacred solemnity, cast forth the excrements of his body at his blasphemous mouth, all his life after, being justly punished in that part which had offended. 5. A woman sick of a cruel palsy, who for many years was not able to go herself, being admonished from heaven, entered into the holy Martyr's Church, where having made her prayer unto God and his Saint, at the very time when the Priest at Mass offered the sacred Body of our Lord to his father, she felt herself strongly recovered, and presently walked home in perfect health of all her limbs. 6. The water which had washed his holy shrine was oftentimes proved sovereign against many diseases. 7. And the dust gathered out of the place where he was buried, and put into drink, wrought the like miraculous effects. But we shall never come to an end if we go about to load this paper with all the miraculous cures done at his tomb; blind, lame deaf, broken, and contracted persons received the wished benefit of their health by the merits of this thrice glorious Martyr. Scarce any disease could be named that was not here cured. Yea and many dead persons were recalled again to life, by the The dead raised to life. Beda Hist Eccl. Angl. lib. 1. cap. 18. And others, as Constant. in vita S. Germ. Baronius tom. 5. an. 429. Camden in descrip. Herford. come. Harpsfield sex. primis sae culis cap. 9 Westm. an. 794. malm. de gest. reg. l. 1. c. Surius ● Tom. 6. jun. 22. intercession, and patronage of this glorious Martyr saint ALBAN. XII. HERE it shall not be amiss to admonish my good reader, if perchance he light on the writings of some foreign Authors unskilled in our English histories, that affirm the body of our saint ALBAN, to have been by the sorenamed saint GERMAN translated to Rome, and thence afterwards again transported by the means of Theophana the Empress to the Benedictine Abbey of saint PANTALEON at Cullen, that he suffer not himself to be easily deceived: for all our English writters maintain the contrary. First saint BEDE (following the ancient Annals of saint ALBAN) avoucheth that saint GERMAN took only with him some of the dust, where his body was laid, and not only left the body itself behind, but (as we have said) placed many other relics of other Martyrs which he had thither brought, in the tomb of saint ALBAN, as so many sacred witnesses and pledges of his devotion to the holy Saint; which relics (to the manifest confutation of the contrary opinion) were found there together with the body of S. ALBAN three hundred forty and odd years after S. GERMANE coming into England as Matthew Westminster, William of Malmesbury, and other English, writers do testify. Therefore his body could not be carried out of England by saint GERMAN. Moreover in Surius (whom I take to be the chief Author of the adverse opinion) I cannot but admire one thing, as a sign of great partiality in him; for having gathered the whole life of Saint ALBAN out of Venerable BEDE, he willingly passeth over in silence that act of Saint GERMANE putting the relics into Saint ALBAN tomb, and carrying away of the earth imbrued with his blood. And why doth he so? I leave the reason to the judgement of the judicious reader, being loath to touch the authority of so great a man. It may be because he was himself of Cullen, he had rather for the honour of his town, report it to be enriched with the whole body of saint ALBAN, then only with some of the dust of his tomb: using a figurative speech of Rhetoricians, and putting the Whole for a Part. Or else the identity Authors that affirm his body to be a S. Alba●s. of the names of saint ALBAN martyr of Mentz, and our saint ALBAN of England drew him to report that of ours, which he should have said of the other. Howsoever he was deceived, this much we can say on our own behalf (ommitting to make an argument of the unliklihood of the contrary assertion) that Matthew Paris in the year 1179. Matthew Westminster in the year 1259. Walsingham in the year 1313. Henry Huntingdon in the ninth book of his history, Thomas Rudburne in his greater Chronicle, and others English writters of great credit and authority, and fare more conversant in our histories then any stranger can be, do constantly affirm that the sacred relics of saint ALBAN remained always in his own monastery in England; and this the ancient records of the same place (which I have in my hands) do largely testify, by the undiscontinued relation of the yearly miracles wrought at his tomb to the reign of He●●y the second. And in the year of grace 1257. Certain workmen that were busied in repairing the Church of saint ALBAN, digging somewhat deep into the ground, happened upon the marble tomb in which his body had been laid presently after his martyrdom; at which time a heavenly splendour shined over his grave, and the ravishing notes of Angelical harmony warbled fourth, the praises of the holy martyr. But the garment of Amphibalus saint ALBAN His garment found spotted with fresh blood. Master in which saint ALBAN suffered martyrdom, was afterwards carried to the Benedicti●e monastery of Ely, and there in a certain tomb reserved: which King Edward the second caused to be opened in his own presence, when it was found uncorrupted and stained with fresh spots of the blood which he had s●ed for CHRIST, who be for ever glorified in his Saints. Amen. All Ecclesiastical writers make very honourable mention of S. ALBAN. of whom amongst others Fortunatus sings this verse. Albanum egregium faecunda Britanniaprofert. And Hiericus a Frenchman, who flourished seven hundred years ago, hath these verses of him in the life of saint GERMAN; in which he mentioneth the executioners loss of his eyes. Milliapaenarum Christi pro nomine passus. Quem tandem rapuit capitis sententia caesi. Sed non Lictoricessit res tuta superbo, Vtque caput Sancto ceciderunt lumina soevo. His life we have gathered out of Venerable Bede in his history of England, and an other old Author ancienter than Bede, which we have in written hand. And besides the writers above named, Gyldas Sapiens epist. de excidio Britanniae, Geffrey of Monmouth hist. Brit. lib. 5. cap. 5. the Roman Martirologe, Vsuard, Molanus, and others do largely speak his praises. In the Sarum Breviary he hath an office of nine lessons, & in an ancient Manuscript breviary of S. benedict's Order which belonged to Burton upon Trent, he is served with twelve lessons, whereof eight are proper, and which make large mention of his life and miracles. An Appendix to the life of Saint ALBAN containing The Passion of Saint AMPHIBALUS, and other Martyrs at the same time. JUNE 22 Out of an ancient manuscript cited before. THE famous miracles which went before and followed the death of our glorious Protomartir saint ALBAN, moved The miracles of S. Alban converteth many. many of the astonished assistants to be fare better affected to the Christian faith than they were; in so much that had they had but a teacher, it seemed they might easily be brought not only to approve, but to embrace it for truth, being of their own accord already well inclined thereunto. Nether was the divine goodness wanting to their good will in this point, by whose instinct one bolder than the rest stood up and in this manner spoke unto them. If only with words (O fellow-citizens) ALBAN had maintained the truth of A citizen's speech to his fellows. his faith, it were not to be admired if all men had rejected it as vain and unprofitable doctrine, condemned by public laws, and contrary not only to the institutions of our ancestors, but even to reason the guide of all things. But now since he hath confirmed his words and faith with such admirable works, whosoever shall presume to deny it, will seem in resisting ALBAN to resist God himself, by affirming that these wonderful signs proceeded from any other author but God; or that that faith is not grounded in truth, which is authorized by the testimonies of such divine works. For when I pray you did our Gods ever perform the like? When was the like heard off in our religion? Moreover the singular integrity, The praise of S. Alban. meekness, patience constancy, piety and other virtues of of this divine man do set him forth amongst his other wonderful works for the greatest wonder: Being vexed with so many taunts and reproaches, he reviled no man; being afflicted with so many injuries, he was so fare from making the lest show of any indignation of mind, that he seemed more tobewayle our case then his own. Nay he went with so joyful and clear a countenance to his last deadly punishment, that one would have judged him going to a banquet of mirth, & not to the scaffold of death. Who doth not see in this man a divine power greater than humane frailty? If than these gifts do proceed only from God, surely he is not wont to bestow them on wicked impious, and sacrilegious persons, but on those that piously and holily serve and worship him. Nether is it to be doubted but that he will adorn us and our common wealth with these and fare greater gifts than these, if we show ourselves pliant and dutiful to his divine calling. Let us therefore follow ALBAN our Captain, and courageously embrace his faith and piety, which God grant to be fortunate and happy to us, our children, and our common wealth. II. THESE and such like words being spoken in a great assembly of the Citizens of Verulam, all publicly proclaimed that then the religion of CHRIST nothing was more divine, nothing more holy, nothing more true. Therefore they resolved to search the whole country over to find out AMPHIBALUS, A●BANS guest, who was a teacher of the Christian discipline. But he was gone into Wales, where with so happy success he had cast abroad the divine seed of the Gospel, that he had filled all the country thereabouts with fruits of the Evangelicall harvest, and the sweet odour of his own fame and name: whereupon the citizens of Verulam to the number of about a thousand left their house & home, and following the sent of his holy deeds & virtues, came at length to AMPHIBALUS: who having understood of the martirdom of his dear Host ALBAN, They are baptised. and the cause of their coming thither, received them all to the sacrament of the Christian faith, which they desired. And they joyfully embracing those divine institutions, were incensed daily with so ardent a desire to profit and perfect themselves in their new-receaved faith, that the multitude of faithful Christians grew every day greater in number, and more famous and renowned in sanctity. III. BUT the ancient and common enemy of mankind perceaving the Evangelicall kingdom to be amplified daily with such joyful increases, and his possessions to be greatly diminished by these purchases; judged it high time to oppose himself against those proceed, and to that end he incensed the citizens against their fellow-Cittizens, those remaining at Verulam against the others whom AMPHIBALUS had now made Citizens of the kingdom of heaven. Against whom the Burgesses of the earth (being incensed with the fury of the Prince of darkness) determined to raise a cruel war, grounding their quarrel on no other theme, than that their fellow Citizens had forsaken the desire, and love of the world, and were by the means of AMPHIBALUS ranged into the warfare of CHRIST'S A thousand Christians cruelly murdered. holy Gospel. Marching therefore against them, when they perceived them to be so resolute in the opinion of their new-receaved faith, that with courageous minds they were ready to expose their necks to the furious swords of their persecutors; setting aside all thought either of the name of fellow-cittizens, or affinity of blood, or dignity of their innocence, they made a furious assault upon them being unarmed, and in most cruel manner bathed their swords in the blood of their own fellows and countrymen, they in the mean time joyfully and willingly offering their bodies to the deadly blows of CHRIST'S enemies, whereby his triumphant Church was adorned with the fresh roses of new troops of holy Martyrs. iv BUT apprehending the Captain of this holy war AMPHIBALUS Amphibalus reserved for greater pains. in the midst of those murdered bodies, they brought him back to Verulam, to be there reserved for greater and more exquisite torments. Wither when the news of his coming arrived, all the town flocked out to meet him, though not in courtesy, but to revenge on him the loss of their fellow-cittizens and kindred, of whose slaughter they judged him to be the sole and principal author. Therefore falling violently upon him, with so great inhumanity they tormented and beat the body of the holy man, that they left no place thereof without the cruel marks of many hurts and wounds. All which he is reported to have endured with so great fortitude of mind, that no sign of anger or trouble appeared in his countenance. When all men held it for a miracle (as indeed it was) that his aged body was able to endure so many and so great torments with such an unmoved constancy; and that they could not force his soul out of that weak lodging with such pains, the lest whereof seemed more than sufficient to martyr the strongest champion in the world. V ALL being astonished and many much grieved at this spectacle, Many converted to Christ. made (as the manner is) diverse interpretations and constructions of the matter; some imputing it to witchcraft, others to a divine power; in so much that there wanted not those that affirmed it to be a most unworthy act to exercise so many torments on an innocent man, which without note of great cruelty could not be inflicted on the wickedest malefactor that ever was: for what offence is it (said they) to draw men from the horrible rites of profane sacrifices, and from a savage manner of life, to an holy and pious way of serving God? Therefore because AMPHIBALUS teacheth these things we ought rather to honour his virtue with all due reverence, and with benefits to requite him labouring for the common good, then so ungratefully and cruelly to persecute his innocence. And this proceeding seemed to them to besoe unwarrantable, that they feafeared not to affirm the patiented to be most grateful to God in suffering such cruelties for virtue's sake, and the doers themselves to They are martyred with S. Amphibalus. be of God most hated, for so outrageously persecuting a poor innocent. On these then speaking in this manner, and recommending themselves to CHRIST and the prayers of AMPHIBALUS, the barbarous multitude exercised their madding cruelty, and together with AMPHIBALUS their captain, with swords, knives, and stones battered their souls out of their mortal lodgings, to take an happy flight to the immortal. VI THIS holy man was martyred at the village of Rudburne, three miles distant from Verulam, where Thomas Rudburne reports that two great knives which had been instruments of this cruelty, were reserved to his time. And for the space of almost seven hundred years the relics of this blessed Martyr lay buried in obscurity, The invention of his body. till about the year of our Lord 1178. they were miraculously found out, and brought honourably in procession to the Benedictine Abbey of S ALBAN▪ when the monks of the same place went solemnly to meet that treasure, carrying with them S. ALBAN shrine. The town of Verulam never beheld a more comfortable and joyful day. One martyr met an other, the disciple his Master, the Host his guest, a heavenly citizen his fellow-citizen of heaven: His dear guest, whom S. ALBAN in times past had secretly dismissed lest he should fall into the hands of his enemies, he now receiveth with public honour and triumph at his return. And whom then his weak lodging could not keep secure from harm, he now introduceth into a most magnificent Church. And this happened in the The wonderful miracles wrought at his tomb year above said, and the five and twentith day of june. At what time that country was burnt up with intolerable heat and drought, but at the holy Martyrs return there fell a great abundance of rain, and they received a common medicine of almost all diseases. But the many heavenly benefits and miracles which were then wrought in the sight of the whole country that flocked thither drawn with the novelty of the thing, and the diseases that were cured after these sacred relics were brought into the Church we omit to recite here in particular, being contented only to say thus much, that nether Galen nor Hipocrates, nor any other of the skilfullest physicians that were, could ever cure so many and such desperate diseases, as this holy Martyr, being piously called upon did, without either potions or plasters, by his only intercession to almighty God; whereby some dead persons were recalled to life, a thing which no human physic was ever known to perform. Thus much of this blessed martyr we have gathered out of the annals of S Alban Monastery. Matthew Paris anno 1179. and 1217. Matthew Westminster anno 1178. joannes Anglicus in his golden legend, and many ●●●er writers especially of the Britan's do make very honourable mention of S. Amphibalus, and speak all agreeable to that which we have said of him. decorative device S. ETHELDREDA REGINA, VIRGO ET ABBATISSA Ordin●● S. 〈◊〉 in Anglia. Junij. 23. M. ba●●… The life of saint ETHELDRED, or AUDRY, Queen, Virgin, and Abbess, of the holy Order of saint BENEDICT. JUNE 23 Out of the ancient records of Ely. LEt the fabulous Greeks talk no more of their chaste Penelope, who in the twenty year's absence of her husband Ulysses lived continently in despite of the tempting importunity of many noble wooers; and let the proud Romans cease to brag of their fair Lucretia, that chose rather to become the bloody instrument of her own death, then to live after the violent ravishment of her honour, and let all the world turn their minds to admire and their tongues and pens to sound the praises of the Christian virtues and chastity of our blessed ETHELDRED, who being joined in wedlock to two kings one after an other, preserved herself most pure in chastity to be spiritually united to her heavenly spouse the king of Kings CHRIST-IESUS. Let all the married admire, and the unwarried in their degree, endeavour to imitate this example of wonderful continency, the like whereof very few are to be found in the Ecclesiastical histories. Hear her life. I The glorious Virgin ETHELDRED being daughter to Anna king Her parents. of the East-Angles and his wife Hereswith, adorned the royalty of her blood with the glory of her virtue and sanctity. For from her very infancy she studied to order all her actions to the service of almighty God, by avoiding the toying company of other maids The virtue of her youth. her equals, and wholly betaking herself to embrace chastity, modesty, humility and all other virtues as the only ornaments of a devout soul: And that they might be the better planted and rooted therein, she nourished them with the food of her continual prayers, and watered them with the streams of her devout tears; making it her chiefest exercise to be present at the divine service, to visit and frequent Churches, wherein she was more delighted then in the splendour of her father's royal palace. In a word, she led so holy a life in this her tender age, that to her may be truly applied that saying of wisdom; Aetas Senectutis, vitaimmaculata. A pure and immaculate life adorned with many virtues begets more veneration than many years of old age; for he life's long that life's well. II. At length when this holy virgin had in this virtuous manner She is desired in marriage. passed over her younger years and was come to an age in which she appeared marriageable, her virtue of mind, wherein she excelled, and beauty of body wherein she paralleled almost all young virgins of that time, being by flying fame made celebrious all over the country, many Princes and nobles that frequented her father's court were much taken therewith, and judged it a worldly bliss which they greatly aimed at, to be wedded to such excellent parts seated in so fair a throne of beauty. But she contemning all worldly pleasures aspired only and wholly to the bedchamber of her eternal spouse CHRIST-IESUS, for whose love she desired always to preserve her chastity untouched, singing continually spiritual hymns and canticles to his honour and praise, and daily sacrificing herself unto almighty God. In the mean time, the divine wisdom so disposing it, and that her unshaken resolution of chastity might in this world be made more famous, and deserving a greater crown of victory and triumph in the next, she was earnestly She marrieth against her will. desired in marriage by one Tunbert a Prince of the South part of the I'll of Ely; who having obtained her father's consent, judged himself sure of his desire; till the flat refusal of the holy Virgin made him perceive that more than one word was requisite to a bargain. Then her father interposing his royal authority, his virtuous daughter ETHELDRED obeyed, using violence to her own desires to make them subject to her fathers will. Therefore being married in royal manner to the forenamed Prince (behold that which amazeth the fond world and worldlings) she was found worthy to imitate the Blessed Virgin MARIE, and to lead a chaste life together with her husband, if he may be called an husband who never rob A chaste marriage. bed his spouse of her virginity. But albeit they were not as two in one flesh, yet were they both of one mind in devotion, passing over their days in prayer, alms deeds, and other good works (for both parties were consenting to the observance of chastity) till an happy death made a separation of that pious union, and called Tunbert into an other world to receive the everlasting reward of his continent and chaste life, when he had lived in the bands of an unexperienced wedlock the space of almost three years. III. THAN although our holy Virgin ETHELDRED piously lamented She retireth to Ely. the death of her husband, yet in heart she rather rejoiced that now she was freed from the yoke of matrimony, hoping by that means more easily to escape the vain allurements of the world. Therefore in her own house at Ely, she began to lead a most retired and devout life, hoping in that place (which was an Island encompassed with store of shady woods) more securely to avoid the vain honours of the world. There her devotion increased daily, and her pious desire was more and more enkindled with the fire of the holy Ghost But now her former labour being overcome, she is to be drawn out and ranged into a greater conflict, that the palm and glory of her virginity might more excellently be made manifest to the world. For Egsrid King of the Northumber's made very earnest suit to have her for his wife. To which his petition, although Her second ma●●●ge to King ●gfrid to her it seemed rather odious then glorious, yet being overcome by the importunity of her friends, she unwillingly yielded & for the gaining of a greater triumph over those vain pleasures, again she put her virginity to the hazard of marriage. But with King Egfrid (who was a young man that boiled in the flower and ardour of youthly years, she endured a fare greater combat, always remaining unconquered: In whom the love of heaven was so powerful, that it still preserved her holy purpose free from all carnal desires. A straying resolution of c●asttie. And in her king's palace, where other ladies are wont to be inflamed with those unchaste fires, she burned with the flames of His heavenly love, whom the Angels desire to behold and gaze on. In a word, for the space of twelve years our pious Virgin ETHELDRED lived in an holy marriage with her husband king Egfrid, without suffering any the lest blemish to her virginity. A thing so worthy of admiration, that it is hard to say, whether the constancy of her, or the patience of him that boiled with love, is more to be praised and admired. Sure I am, that among many thousands you shall scarce find one, able so to bridle the unbridled desires of the rebellious flesh. iv IN the mean time, King Egfrid, who was desirous to have King Egfrids' desire to overthrew her chastity. heirs to succeed him in the kingdom, laboured by all means (setting violence aside) to get his wife to consent unto his desires, and yield unto him that only desired the right of matrimony. ETHELDRED on the other side, who had dedicated her virginity to the king of heaven, could not be removed nether by the allurements of his pleasant words, nor with the terror of his rude threats, to betray the resolution of her holy purpose. Therefore the King who by nature was of a courteous and pleasing inclination of mind, although by how much the more constantly his wife denied his request, by so much the more eagerly his love burned in the pursuit thereof (for things denied are more greedily desired) yet he always withheld his hands from violence: and to the end he might leave no way unbeaten that might lead to the mark of his affection, he committed the matter to S. WILFRID Archbishop of York, hoping that his authority would be powerful enough to beat down the fortress of her resolution, and the rather because he knew how great confidence the holy queen reposed in the man. But S. WILFRID quickly found all his labour in persuading to be employed in vain, so unconquered the holy virgin remained, in her foretaken purpose of chastity. V Nay she not only refused to condescend to the point of the Etheldred laboureth to have her husband consent to a divorce. king's desire, but allsoe ceased not with her daily prayers to solicit him that with his leave and licence she might be freed from the bond of matrimony, and betake herself to embrace a single and private manner of life, which at length by much importunity she obtained. For Egfrid, who was a prudent prince could not chose but love and honour the purpose of chastity in his wife, knowing that she had dedicated it to CHRIST JESUS. Therefore ETHELDRED being now mistress of her desired liberty, retired herself to a Monastery She taketh the habit of a Nun of Benedictine Nuns at a place called Coldingham, in the confines of Scotland, where blessed EBBA aunt unto King Egfrid, was Abbess of a holy Convent of Virgins. Amongst these, our holy ETHELDRED made her royal robes give place to the humble weeds of a Nun, and instead of her princely diadem of Sovereignty, she adorned her head with the poor veil of humility, making herself from a commandress a subject, from a princess a handmaid, from a queen a servant. Yea now it was that this holy woman judged herself truly to reign, when being freed from her terrene kingdom, she was ranged into the service of CHRIST, and undertaking for his love the rule of monastical discipline, she subjected herself to the rod of holy obedience, and found by her own daily experience, that the yoke of our Lord is sweet, Her holy conversation. and his burden light. In this place she attained to so great a height of holy conversation, and shown so perfect an example of humility, that her life appeared to the rest of her sisters as a true pattern and mirror of all monastical perfection. VI BUT King Egfrid impatiently bearing the departure of his beloved queen, began at length to be much contrislated thereat, and by instinct and instigation of his Nobles, he endeavoured with violent A straying miracle. means to take her out of the Monastery. Which his intention being understood by the holy Virgin, she recomended her virginity to almighty God, and with two other of her fellows fled for safeguard into a hill near adjoining, where, by the divine power of him that governs and commands the winds and seas, she was miraculously preserved out of his hands. For the sea overflowing its usual limits, encompassed that hill about in such sort, that the king admiring the accident durst attempt no further, but returned sorrowful, Thomas Monach. in Hist. Eliensi. that he had gone so fare. And the author hereof doth testify that while she lived with her company on the top of this hill, she obtained by her prayers to have a fountain of clear water to spring out of the earth, to comfort them in their extremity of thirst. And allsoe that the impression of her footsteps ascending and descending the same hill remained visibly in the rock unto the same Authors time. All which doth most evidently prove of how great merit her holy life and untainted chastity was in the sight of her dear spouse CHRIST-IESUS, the fountain and head of all purity. But because we are fallen into such times that a great part of the world holdeth vows of chastity to be unnecessary, and the virtue of chastity itself impossible, especially between married folks, therefore it shall not be amiss here to set down the testimonies of Venerable BEDE and saint WILFRID for an unresistable proof of our holy ETHELDREDS' virginity. When the matter was by some called in question (saith S. BEDE) WILFRID Bishop of blessed De gest. An. lib. 4. cap. 6. A notable testimony of her virginity. memory affirmed to me that demanded it, that he himself was a most certain witness of her virginity, in so much that King Egfrid promised him a reward of many lands and treasures if he could but persuade the Queen to yield to the use of marriage, because he knew she loved ●oe man better than him. Nether aught we to mistrust, that also in our age that was possible to be done, which our faithful histories relate to have been done in former times, by the gift of one and the same Lord, who promiseth to remain with us to the end of the world. For the divine miracle, whereby the flesh of the same woman buried could not be corrupted, is a sign, that she remained incorrupted from the touch of man. Thus saint BEDE. Whereby is made manifest the undefiled integrity of this holy Virgin. Who albeit she shed not her blood by martyrdom, yet she may be justly entitled Etheldred a Martyr. with the name of a martyr, when fight gloriously against the vices and concupiscences of this world, she daily carried our Lords cross in her body. And if she had happened in the bloody times of Nero or Diocletian, without doubt (like unto other holy virgins and Martyrs of God's Church) she would of her own accord have endured the torture, fought with the wild beasts, gone through the fires, and not have feared to have had her body torn in pieces with the instruments of studied cruelty which the iron-hearts of those times made use off. But let us go on with her life. VII. A YEAR after she had received the veil of religion in the monastery above named, she returned to her own possession in the I'll of Ely, which was her dowry given by her first husband Tonbert, and the place destined for the perpetual habitation of her, and her successors. But travelling this long journey on foot accompanied only with two other sisters, being all more than usually wearied with the labour and heat of the way, they sat down under the protection of a shady grove, a while to refresh their tired bodies with a desired rest. Where after a short sleep, they arose, and (as it is A straying miracle. constantly reported by the Authors of her life) they found the holy Virgin's staff, which she had stuck in the ground at her head, to be miraculously grown into a fair green tree, which afterwards came to be a mighty Ash bigger than any of the same kind in all that country, and the place was ever after called by the name of Etheldredstowe, where a Church was built in honour of the holy Virgin, and in memory of this miraculous accident. VIII. AT the I'll of Ely therefore she at length arrived, where in Ely first built by S. Augustine. times past (as many Authors affirm) saint AUGUSTINE our Apostle had built a monastery at the charge of Ethelbert King of Kent, and dedicated it to the Blessed Virgin MARIE, and placed therein a Convent of Benedictine Monks, about the year of our Lord six hundred. But afterwards, when Penda, that tyrannous King of the Mercians, had laid to waste all the country of the East-Angles, that Monastery was allsoe made to fall into the confusion of an untimely ruin: which now our holy ETHELDRED not only re-edified again but allsoe restored to a fare greater state of glory. When many other Virgins, drawn thither with the fame of her holy life and virtues, ranged themselves into the discipline of a regular life under her government, (for by the authority of S. WILFRID she was made Abbess of the same place) so that within a short time she Etheldred made Abbess of Ely. had gathered a worthy Convent of holy Benedictine Nuns, that night and day sung the praises of almighty God, and led a most strict and holy life. Then by the means of the same Saint WILFRID, and the instance of our holy Virgin, this new Monastery of Ely was established with many privileges and liberties by the authority of the Pope, & exempted from the jurisdiction and power of Bishops. IX BUT with how great sanctity, virtue, and pious example of With how great virtue she governed. life our holy ETHELDRED governed the same Monastery, with how great continency she lived, and with what heavenly gifts and graces she was adorned by almighty GOD, it fare exceedeth, the weakness of this pen to rehearse. From her first entrance into the monastery she never used any other clothing but of , which she wore also next unto her skin: She seldom made use of warm baths (a thing much practised in those days) but against the greatest solemnities of the year, as Easter, whitsuntide, and the like; nether then would she take them, but after all the rest of her Sisters, when she had first played the part of a diligent servant in helping them in that act. In her diet she was so sparing, that she always contented herself with on small meal a day, unless either the solemnity of some great feast, her own infirmity of body, or some other greater cause compelled her to enlarge her ordinary allowance. In divine prayer and contemplation she was so untired that after the performance of the midnight's office in the choir, she always continued her devotion in the Church till the next morning. Hereuppon the divine goodness, that is never wanting to his servants, adorned his virtuous Spouse with the grace of doing many miraculous cures on the bodies of possessed and diseased persons; and also endowed her with the gift of prophecy, by virtue whereof she foretold the coming of an inevitable sickness to the monastery, which to her and many of her sisters should be the messenger of death; specifying withal the certain number of those that should come under the cruel arrest of that fearful seargeant. X. AT length, the time drawing near, in which the Spouse of all She falleth sick. pure souls CHRIST-IESUS had determined to take this his beloved spouse out of the frail bark of this mortal state, to the heavenly dwellings of his glorious Kingdom, she was attached with a sickness which brought with it such a cruel swelling and imposthume in her neck and throat, that her body growing daily to lower and lower degrees of weakness, she was compelled to entertain both those incommodities in her bed. When, albeit the swelling gave her most sharp feelings of her pain; she nevertheless being attentive to her accustomed devotions, ceased not to render thankes unto almighty God, who useth the scourge of a pious chastisement to correct those he truly loveth. Then, nothing but weeping and lamenting was to be seen or heard in the house: her family and the people adjoining grieved to lose so good a Mistress, and her holy and chaste choir of virgin's sorowed more than can be expressed, with fear to be divided from so good a mother. Only she herself, for whom was made all this lamentation, seemed in heart and countenance most joyful; whose confidence in the divine goodness was such, and so great, that she was nothing terrified with the apprehension and fear of death. And when the pain of her imposthume gave her the sharpest remembrance, she seemed much delighted therewith, and endured it as the delights and ornaments of her glory; using these words to the bystanders: Most certainly I know that I deservedly suffer this swelling in my neck, about which in my youth I was wont to wear many vain bracelets, and golden ornaments of pride, Therefore I give hearty thankes unto the divine goodness, that thence my grief springs, where I was wont to make show of a delightful vanity. And I believe, and trust that my pious Redeemer by afflicting me with this pain, will mercifully absolve me from the punishment due unto my former levity. A rare example of virtue! * Harpsfield saec. 7. c. 24. Our English women are wont to wear about their necks a certain chain made of fine small silk, which we call Etheldreds' chain, it may be in memory of what we have here said. And would to God this monument would stir up our minds (as indeed it ought) to imitate the virtues and holy life of S. ETHELDRED, which surely is the end for which it was first instituted and used. And the same I wish unto those Peers and noble men both of England and other nations, who carry a chain about their necks called, A Collar of S. S. which letters signify the name of Saint Simplicius, who borne of the blood of Roman Senators, generously suffered death for the love of CHRIST. Truly then, these chains would become of no less ornament both to men and women, then in times past that chain was to Titus Manlius the Roman, which, being provoked to battle, he had taken from his conquered enemy, whereupon he afterwards was surnamed Torquatus, from Torques, which in Latin signifies a chain. But let us return to Saint ETHELDRED. XI. THEREFORE whilst this holy Virgin lying amidst the torments of a most cruel sickness, gave thankes unto her Creator for so pious a visitation, boiling with a desire to be dissolved to live with CHRIST, some of the assistants, in whom yet remained a small hope of her recovery, caused a skilful chirurgean to lance the swollen place, and make way for that corrupted matter to issue forth, as being stuff to base and loathsome to be imprisonned in so pure a body. Which done, the holy Virgin seemed for two day's space to be greatly eased of her pain, and to wax better in health, so She seemeth to recover. that many conceived a new hope that she might escape this danger, which was cause of great joy unto her friends and Sisters. But all this was but as a glimpse of lightuing before death, for the third day, (when all wounds and incisions are most panifull) she herself perceaving that the happy minute of her wished departure was at hand, caused the whole Convent of Nuns to be gathered together about her; unto whom, (having first signified that her hour of death was come) she imparted (as well as the violence of her pain would suffer her) the dying words of her last farewell, so full of the sweetness of divine documents and devotion, that she wonderfully moved the minds and hearts of them all to the love of heaven and heavenly things. Then, having strengthened her journey with the Viaticum of our Lords holy body, she rendered up her pure soul into the pure hands of her Creator, and ending this mortal Her happy de●th. life, entered into that which never ends, leaving the whole Convent of her devout Sisters so overcharged with sorrow, that not being able to contain so hard a burden within doors, their compassionate eyes let forth lively signs thereof, to ease the heaviness of their pious hearts. This glorious Virgin died the 23. day of june, in the year of our Lord six hundred seventy nine, when she had been Abbess seven years, Aldulph her Brother then reigning over the East-Angles. XII. BUT when her sacred body had laid buried in the earth the space of sixteen years, her holy sister SEXBURG (who had succeeded in the gonernment of the same Monastery) moved with the many miracles daily wrought at her tomb, was desirous to take up those sacred spoils, and honour them with a more eminent place in the Church. Therefore a day being apppointed for the more solemn execution of this translation, a great multitude of devout people flocked thither to be present at that act; amongst whom also was S. WILFRID Archbishop of York, and Kinefrid the Chirurgean that two days before her departure, had made the incision in her neck, which we spoke of before. But before they opened her sepulchre, the holy Abbess SEXBURG sent some of the Monks to provide A tomb●stone miraculously found for her body. a stone to be the tomb of those sacred relics. Who (because the I'll of Ely itself, being a place encompassed round with waters & Marshes was void of all manner of stones of such greatness) went to a little town not fare from thence, called Grandacester, where near unto the walls of the same town, they straight found a fair tomb curiously cut in white marble, with a cover of the same matter most justly fitted thereunto. All much amazed at this good fortune (especially because the neighbouring people affirmed that they had never before seen any such stone in that place) they understood that our Lord, the wonderworking spouse of the glorious Virgin ETHELDRED, had miraculously prospered their journey, and provided a shrine for her holy body. Therefore singing hymns of praise & thankes unto his divine goodness, they brought the newfound tombstone to the Monastery; which was a great comfort and encouragement to the virtuous Abbess, to hearten her to proceed in the execution of her intended purpose. Her body found uncorrupted after sixteen years XIII. THEREFORE all things being worthily ordered and prepared, the whole Convent came in procession and stood singing about the sepulchre, which was covered and hidden under a pavilion. Then the Abbess with some others entered into it, to take up the holy body, which being discovered, they found to be as whole, fair, fresh, and uncorrupted as the same day it was laid, in the earth, and appeared unto the amazed beholders more like unto one asleep, then dead. Nay which is most wonderful, the incision in her neck, which at her burial was a wide and open wound, was now so perfectly cured, that there remained only to be seen a small and slender scar, as a token of what it had been before. So that the earth, which is wont to corrupt and consume the dead bodies of other mortal men, served here as a sovereign balm not only to preserve her virginal flesh uncorrupted, but even to cure and heal the wounds made therein. Then the body being elevated to the public view of the whole multitude of assistants, with astonished eyes they all beheld the wonder of almighty God, who worketh his own will and pleasure both in heaven and earth, and here to show the integrity of this holy Virgin's chastity during her life, had preserved her body allsoe from all spot of corruption for the space of sixteen years after her death. And of this were witnesses, besides many others, great S. WILFRID, and Kinfrid the Chirurgean who being a faithful recorder of this accident, was De gest lib. 4. c. 9 wont to relate the same, as it is here written, unto Venerable BEDE, and others, as BEDE himself doth testify: affirming also that not only the body, but the linen in which it was wrapped were found also to be as entire and new, as the first day they were employed to enclose that chaste body. XIV. THAN having washed the sacred body, and shrouded it in fresh fit to contain so worthy a treasure, they placed it with great reverence in the new and miraculous tomb of white marble, (which they found to be so fit in length and bigness to contain that sacred relic, that the cunningest workman by line and measure could not have made one fit) and brought it with Miracles at her tomb. great joy and solemnity into the Church of the B. Virgin MARY, which she had founded in her life time. This translation or elevation of her holy body was performed on the seaventeenth day of October, and sixteme years after her death. Many great miracles were afterwards wrought there at her tomb, & the only touching of the that her body had been wrapped in, driven devils out of the bodies of possessed persons, and cured many diseases, by the power of Him that is all ways wonderful in his Saints. And the wooden chest, in which her body had been first buried, healed many of sore eyes, by only laying their heads close unto it, and in their prayers calling on the help of almighty God, and the intercession of his glorious Virgin S. ETHELDRED. also out of the place where she was first buried, sprung forth a fountain of clear water, which was proved to be most sovereign for many diseases even until the time of our Author, who had seen the experience thereof himself. diverse other miracles are faithfully related by this Author, Thomas of Ely, to have been wrought in the same Monastery, by the merits In the manus cript history of Ely. of this glorious Virgin. There the blind recovered their sight, the dumb their speech, the lame the use of their legs, the dease their hearing, and almost all kind of diseased persons were restored to perfect health, as may be seen at large in the history of Ely. XV BUT as this holy Virgin was piously gracious to all that devoutly The divine punishmennt against one that wronged her Tomb. implored her assistance in their necessities, so was she many times no less terrible in punishing those that maliciously endeavoured to wrong her Tomb, Church, or any thing belonging thereunto. For proof whereof it shall suffice to relate one example only. In that outrageous spoil which the barbarous Danes mad throughout the kingdom of England during the troublesome raignee of the two kings Etheldred and Elfred; when all Churches, Monasteries, and religious houses together with their inhabitants were committed to fire and sword; the Monastery of Ely was also made a prey to their untamed cruelty. When one of those Pagans, more prone to wickedness then the rest, attempted to break open the holy shrine of saint ETHELDRED, hoping to find it furnished with store of golden treasure, which his covetous mind greatly thirsted after. And having with much labour made a hole through the marble chest (which remained in the same until our Authors time) the divine punishment was so sudden against him, that his unworthiness was not suffered to behold the treasure contained therein. For at the very same instant, his eyes fell out of his head, and he himself falling down to the earth, vomited out his miserable soul to carry news to the next world how severely God punisheth those that wrong the relics of his Saints. And his wretched end taught his fellows not to presume to touch that sacred tomb, albeit they committed the Church and Monastery to the unsatiable flames of fire. But after a long desolation, in the time of the peaceable reign Kind Edgar repaireth, the Church of Ely. of the most noble King Edgar, the same Monastery was magnificently restored to its former and a fare greater glory, by the royal munificence of the same King, and the secular Clerks, that had crept into it in the mean time, were for their incontinency and bad life cast out by the means of that worthy Pillar of the English Church and the Benedictine family, saint ETHELWOLD, and by the special command of King Edgar; & the Benedictine Monks placed in their steed, & one Brithnode made Abbot, unto whom in success of time nine other abbots succeeded in order. After whom in the year of our Lord 1108. during the reign of King Henry the first, the Abbey itself was turned to an Episcopal sea, and the Convent of Monks governed by a Prior, who had the title of a Cathedral Priour, unto whom and his Chapter of Monks, belonged the election of the Bishop. XVI. BUT our glorious saint ETHELDRED was always held and Etheldred the Patroness of Ely. reverenced for the special and principal Patroness of this place, and such she shown herself to be both by the continual working of many miracles and cures at her tomb, as allsoe by diverse apparitions after her death, for the peculiar good thereof. One whereof we cannot omit. In the sixteenth year of the reign of King Henry the first, there lived in the Province of Ely, a man called Bricstan, who being from his very infancy entangled with the crosses and adversities of the world gave himself amongst other vices to deal in the damnable trade of usury, by which only he was maintained in the world: Till having drawn his line of life to a great length in such wickedness, he fell into a sickness so vehement, that it made him apprehend death to be nigh. When the extremity of his disease forced him to enter into consideration of the miserable state he had lived in: and being inspired with a heavenly glimpse of divine grace, he made a faithful promise to deliver himself to the service of almighty God, under the habit of a Benedictine Monk, in the Monastery of saint ETHELDRED at Ely. And without any further delay, having gathered all his goods together, he went to the Monastery, Bricstan resolveth to be a Monk. and made livery and season of them, & himself, unto the Monks, humbly craving mercy for his former life. But the common enemy of mankind, by whose envy Adam fell out of Paradise, stirred up an instrument of his, and a servant of the Kings called Robert Malartes, who in behalf of the King hindered poor Brickstans' taking the habit He is maliciously hindered. of Religion, and having laid theft and other great offences to his charge, affirmed that not to save his soul, but to cloak the hay nousnes of his wicked life he sought now to enter into religion. In fine, Brickstan having no other weapon but his own innocence, stood stiffly upon his denial, as indeed he had reason being guiltless of the crimes he was accused off. But the authority of his adversary so prevailed against the justice of his cause, that he was clapped under guard, and led fettered and bound to London, where he became an unwilling guest to the jailor in a dark and loathsome prison: and loaden with bolts and iron chains, in great misery he a long time fed upon the two common dishes of the poor prisoners ordinary, cold, and Hunger. XVII. IN the mean time, albeit he found in himself no former merits, whereby he might deserve much before the face of almighty In prison he calleth upon S. Benedict and S. Etheldred. God, yet he ceased not to call to his divine goodness for help, with a sorrowful heart and voice desiring the intercession of the glorious Patriarch of Monks saint BENEDICT, (to whose order he had vowed himself) and of S. ETHELDRED (in whose Monastery he purposed to have embraced the same order.) And this was his daily and nightly exercise whilst he lived in this wretched state of imprisonment, which dured five months. What more? One night when the bells in the city rung to the midnight's office of Matins, & our Prisoner (having fasted three days before) lay, as he thought, at such a point of extremity, that he expected nothing but death to be the period of his misery, (yet still calling either in mouth or heart on the names of those glorious saints) the divine goodness shown him a heavenly token and sign of his mercy. For S. BENEDICT, and saint ETHELDRED with her sister saint SEXBURG appeared visibly unto him in the prison, with such a glorious lustre to He hath an apparition. that dark place, and such a lightning of comfort to his weak soul darkened with sorrow, that betwixt joy and amazement he was almost transported beyond himself, not knowing what to say, or what to think. Till those heavenly citizens having made themselves known unto him, demanded if he would be delivered out of that captivity? At which words awaking, as it were, out of a deep sleep he answered, that he would most willingly, enjoy liberty, if he thought he could any longer live, but because the forces of his body were quite spent, he had now no further hope to escape. Then S. BENEDICT drawing near unto him, very gently pulled off his He is released by S. Benedict shackles, and threw them with such vehemency against a beam in the same room, that they broke in pieces, and the noise awaked the keepers, who fearing lest their prisonners might have made some escape, came hastily with lights into the same room, where to their great astonishment, they understood first by an other of the prisoners, and next of Brickstan himself, what straying guests had been there, and how he had been miraculously loosed out of his fetters, by the heavenly visitation of S. BENEDICT and S. ETHELDRED. Therefore the next morning, they made relation hereof to the virtuous Queen Mawde, who happened to be in London at the same time: and she presently sent one Ralph, a chaplain of the Court, to be more certainly informed of the truth of this accident. He, having found how Brickstan was released out of his fetters, and seeing the irons so strangely burst in pieces; brought him to the Queen's Great joy for his releasement. presence at court. Then the noise of this miraculous accident being blown all over the city of London, made the citizens with their mouths full of the praises of almighty God, come flocking to the Court. And the Queen being replenished with an extreme joy at the novelty of the miracle, caused all the bells in the town to make the air resound with peals of joy for the straingenes thereof, & all Conuents of Ecclesiastical persons to sing forth praises of thanksgiving unto the almighty worker of wonders, for so great a remonstrance of his goodness. And Brickstan himself going in pilgrimage to visit many Churches throughout the city to give thankes for this heavenly favour, was followed with whole troops of people that desired to look upon him, as upon a wonder, and at the Benedictine Abbey of Westminster he was received by Gilebert the Abbot, and the whole Convent of Monks, that came in procession to meet him In fine, by command of the Queen, he was honourably conveyed out of all his troubles, to the beloved haven of his desires, the Monastery of Ely, carrying with him, as the trophies of his victory over the world, the chains and fetters, which had bound him in prison, and out of which he was so miraculously released. At Ely he was very honourable received, where he brought Briestan becometh a Monk at Ely. his former purpose to perfection, and put on the habit and profession of a Benedictine moke. And his fetters were hung up in the same Church before the high altar, for a perpetual spectacle and monument of the miracle. This happened in the time of Herueus first bishop of the same place. XVIII. THOMAS Walsinghan in his history of England, in Richard the second in the year 1389. relateth how during the same king's reign, the holy Virgin ETHELDRED appeared at two several times to distinct persons, and foretold straying accidents and punishments that should happen unto the Country, if they were not averted by the prayers and sacrifices of good men. Other particularities thereof we omit, fearing to be over tedious, having showed sufficiently how great a care this glorious Saint had of her country. Let us make intercession unto her, that by her merit and prayers, she would obtain us grace of almighty God, to be freed from the yoke & oppression of Heresy, which in these our days beareth so great a head over our miserable country. Her life we have gathered out of the Chronicles of Ely which we have in an ancient manuscript, written by Thomas of Ely a Monk of the same place; a● also out of Venerable Bede de gestis Ang. lib. 4. cap. 19 Nicholas Harpsfield sec. 7. cap. 24. and jonnes Anglicus recited by john Capgrave in his legend of English Saints. Mention is made of her in the Roman Martirologe, and in that of Bede, Ado, Vsuard, and Wion. also William Malmesbury lib. 2. de gest. reg. cap. 13. Matthew Westminster anno 679. Polidore Virgil lib. 4. Wigorniensis annis 672. 673. and 679. Trithemius in his third book of the famous men of saint benedict's Order chap. 122. and many other writers do worthily sound forth her praises, and in ancient times her feast was celebrated in England with great solemnity. The life of saint BARTHOLOMEW Priest and Monk of the holy Order of saint BENEDICT. JUNE 24 Written by joannes Anglicus. SAINT BARTHOLOMEW borne in Yorkshire in the Province of Whiteby, in times past called Streanshall, was by his parents first named Tostius, but when he left the world and entered into a monastical life, he left also that name, and was called BARTHOLOMEW. In his very infancy he gave many rare signs of future sanctity, and received from heaven many special favours to confirm the His divine visions. same; being diverse times visited by our Lord JESUS-CHRIST himself in person, and by his glorious Mother the Blessed Virgin MARY, and the holy Apostles S. PETER, and saint JOHN. In his youth he traveled into many foreign countries, and in Norway he was adorned with the sacred dignity of Priesthood. But returning into England, he received the habit of a Monk in the Benedictine monastery Note a miracle. of Durham, where entering into the Church, and making reverence to the Crucifix, the sacred Image of Christ hanging on the Cross, seemed with an humble bowing of the head, to resalute him again. In this monastery he led a very regular and strict life, profiting daily more and more in humility, obedience, and all other virtues belonging to a Monastical life. Till at length aspiring to a more solitary manner of living segregated from all humane company, the great Patron of that Order, and monastery, S. CUTHBERT appeared to him in a vision, and invited him to live in the Island of Farne, which was the place that he himself in his life time had honoured with his holy conversation. BARTHOLOMEW being glad of so heavenly an offer so suiting with his desires, promised to spend the remnant of his life in that Island, & to that end, with much difficulty and importunity he obtained leave of his Prior, who fearing lest so strict a life might be too hard for him to undertake, having yet lived but a year in the observance of the Monastery, was the more unwilling to consent to his purpose. II. TO the Hermitage of Farne than he went, where he led a most His strict life in the the Ermitage. strict and rigid manner of life. He wore a hair shirt next his skin for many years, until his Prior commanded the contrary. His bed was no other than the hard ground; his diet, bread and herbs; he never tasted any flesh, and after some years he abstained from fish also: his drink was fair water, and seven years before his death he is reported not to have drunk at all. His clothing was a stamin, a cowl, and a black cloak lined with skins. His stockings were also of leather which he never put of until they were quite consumed with age. For he was wont to say to his brethren, that our bodies were to be used to all manner of hardness and filth, if we desired to bring our souls to the perfection of beauty and purity But in all this rigorous manner of life, he always carried so pleasant and merry a countenance, and had his face so well tempered with its natural colours, that all that beheld it would have judged him rather a great lover of bodily delights and dainties, than so severe a chastiser and tamer of his own flesh. In prayer, so unwearied, that besides his ordinary office, he recited over David's Psalter sometimes twice, sometimes thrice every day. In the mean He overcometh the temptations of the devil. time he was grievously vexed, and assaulted by many hellish temptations of the devil all which with a firm confidence in almighty God, and by the signe of the holy cross and the virtue of holy water, he utterly vanquished and overthrew. III. HE is reported also to have wrought many miracles in his life time, and to have been comforted with diverse heanenly visions during the time of his strict life in this Hermitage: amongst which, he beheld the soul of Thomas Prior of Durham (who having left the regency of the Monastery, had lived a retired life together with him, & died in the same Island) carried up into heaven by the ministry of angelical hands. And at length saint BARTHOLOMEW himself (when he had lived forty years and six months in this hermitage, in all sanctity and holiness of life, having a long time before had a revelation of the hour and time of his death) was called out of the thraldom of this world to receive the everlasting rewards of his labours in heaven, on the very feast of saint JOHN the Baptist the four and twentith day of june. He was buried in his Oratory in the same place, at whose tomb many miraculous cures were wrought by the all mighty power of him, who is for ever glorious in his saints. What year he died is not specified by the Authors of his life, but he must needs have flourished since the year 1100. about which time the Benedictine Monks were first introduced into the Cathedral Church of Durham, in the reign of William Rufus. The life of S. Bartholomew we have gathered out of joannes Anglicus recited by john Capgrave in his legend of English Saints; with whom let the truth of this history stand, for I have not yet found any other Author that makes mention of him. The life of saint ADALBERT Deacon, Confessor and Monk of the holy Order of saint BENEDICT JUNE 25. Out of an ancient manuscript recited by Surius to. 3. THIS holy man was one of those twelve Benedictine Monks which S. EGBERT sent, as so many elect Apostles, to preach the faith of Christ in Germany; of which mission you may read more in the life of saint Swibert March the first, and in that of saint EGBERT April the twenty fourth. He was son to Edilbald king of the Deiri, and nephew to saint OSWALD king of the Northumber's. But esteeming the gain of the kingdom of heaven before all worldly greatness, he despised the royal wealth, dignities, and honours of his birth, & embraced first a Monastical life in England, afterwards he became a disciple to saint EGBERT in Ireland, in a more rigid & strict observance of the Benedictine rule and profession; and lastly being made Deacon, he was joined to eleven other Priests and Benedictine Monks to make up the number of twelve Apostolical men which (as we have said) saint EGBERT sent to announce the He converted many in Germany. Christian faith to the barbarous Pagans of Germany. ADALBERT therefore for the love of CHRIST and the advancement of his holy Gospel, went courageously with the rest, and at Egmond in Holland he employed his best labours for the conversion of souls to CHRIST and his Church. Where after he had reaped a most happy and fruitful harvest in the vineyard of our Lord, and reduced great multitudes of Heathens out of the blind night of Idolatry to the comfortable light of Christ's Gospel, famous for his holy life, and miracles, which it pleased allmighiie God to work by his merits for the better confirming of what he preached, he ended his toilsome days in this world, and departed to the eternal reward of his labours in heaven; the five and twentith day of june, about the year of our Lord 705. He was buried at Egmond in Holland, where his tomb flourished wonderfully with many great miracles wrought thereat. two Afterwards in the time of Theodoricke the first, Duke of Holland his holy body was taken out of the earth, where under his coffin there appeared a fountain of most pure water springing out of the ground: and the pall in which that sacred treasure was wrapped they found to be as entire and uncorrupted as it was at the first. And The elevation of his body. the same Theodoricke built a chapel in a place called Hallen, in which the holy body was placed with great reverence and solemnity. But his son Theodoricke the Younger being a most fervent follower of his father's devotion founded there a goodly Monastery of S. B●nedicts order, in honour of S. ADALBERT, by whose merits his son Egbert A monastery dedicated to his name. afterwards Archbishop of Trevirs, was cured of a tedious & cruel fever, which had given the foil to all the skill of human physic. This Monastery of Egmond is held for antiquity and dignity the noblest in all Holland, in which lie buried the bodies of many Princes, expecting the dreadful summons of the last trumpet, who in their lives endowed it with many rich gifts and possessions. Many other miracles were wrought at the same place by the merits of this glorious Saint, which are contained in the history of his life written by the Monks of Medeloc, and recited by Surius in his third tome, out of which we have gathered thus much of him. The Roman Martirologe maketh mention of him, as also that of Ado, and Wion. also Molanus in his Index of the Saints of Belgia, Trithemius in his third book of the famous men of S. benedict's order chap. 294. Baronius tom. 8. anno Christi 697. Marcellinus in the life of S. Swibert, and others. The end of june, and the first Tome. TO THE READER. Vouchsafe (good Reader) courteously to receive this first tome of our Saint's lives, which although it come alone to thy view, and s●e bear an imperfect face, yet I doubt not it will give thee some consolation in the reading. The second part is going to the press, and shall by God's holy assistance come with as much speed, as is possible, to thy hands. In the mean time, let thy kind acceptance of this add wings of courage and haste, to the accomplishment of the other. Farewell. AN ALPHABETICAL TABLE OF THE SAINTS CONTAINED IN THIS FIRST TOME. A. A DELBERT Deacon. 612. Adrian Abbott. 42. Alban Martyr. 574. Aldelme Bishop. 487. Alfwold Bishop. 325. Alured Abbot. 56. Amphibalus Martyr. 587. Anselme Archbishop. 380. Asaph Bishop. 412. Augustine Archbishop. 496. Aydo Abbott. 200. B. Bartholomew Priest. 610. Bathilde Queen. 104 Bede Priest. 523. Bennet Biscop Abbott. 46. Birstan Bishop. 114. Boniface Martyr. 535. Bosa Bishop. 245. botulph Abbott. 571. Brigitt Virgin. 118. Brithune Abbot. 432. Brithwald Bishop. 45. C. Cadock Martyr. 102. Cedde Bishop. 35. Cedmon Monk. 153. Ceolulphe King. 70. Chad Bishop. 224. Columba Abbott. 562. Cuthbert Bishop. D. David Bishop. 218. Deicola Abbot. 82. Dimpna Martyr. 426. Dunstan Archbishop. 434. E. Eadburg Virgin. 569. Eadbert Bishop. 413. Edilwald Priest. 324. Edward King Confessor. 1. Edward King Martyr. 292. Egbert Priest. 402. Elfled Virgin. 14●. Elphegus Bishop Martyr. 361. Elstan Bishop 340. Erkenwald Bishop. 407. Ermenburg Queen. 100 Ermenild Abbess. 157. Ethelbert King Confessor. 179. Ethelbert King Martyr. 466. Etheldred Queen Abbess. 593. F. Felix bishop 244 Fremund King. 424. Furseus Abbot. 72 G. Gilbert Confessor. 135 Gregory Pope. 246 Godrick Hermite 472 Gudwall Bishop. 505 Guthlake Confessor. 343 Gyldas Abbot. 112 Gysla and Rictrude. 341 H. Henry Hermit. 78 Herebert Priest. 322 I. Inas King. 142 john of Beverley. 415 K. Kentigerne bishop. 61 Kyneburg Abbess and Kineswide virgin. 237 L. Laurence Archbishop. 126 M. Margaret Queen 564. Melli●us Bishop. 399. Milburg Abbess. 173. Milgith Virgin. 187. O. Oswald Bishop▪ 188. Owen Confessor. 235. P. Paternus Bishop. 356. Patrick Bishop. 270. Peter Abbot. 69. Pyran Bishop. 236. R. Richard Bishop. 327. Robert Abbot. 554. S. Sexulphe Bishop. 111. Stephen Abbot. 357. Swibert Bishop. 202. T. Thelian Bishop. 149. Theorithgid Virgin. 101. Translation of S. Edward King and Martyr. 159. Trumwine Bishop. 152. V Vlrick Confeffour. 162. W. Walburg Virgin. 183. Wereburg Abbess. 131. Wilgis Confessor. 116. Willeick Priest. 229. William Archbishop. 559. Winwaloke Abbott. 231. Wolstan Bishop. 84. Wulsine Bishop. 39 Wyre Bishop. 421.