New-York:
NEANDER’S aim, in the work from which this volume is a translation, was to employ the most striking facts of Church History for general Christian edification. The faith, the zeal, and the piety of the early missionaries and martyrs of the Church, and the Christian life of individuals, and even of communities, amid periods of darkness and delusion, are commemorated here with that genial sympathy for pure religion, however and wherever manifested, which so strongly characterized. Neander. His charity may, in some few instances appear excessive; but excess of love is so rare, that it may well be excused.
J. M’Clintock.
April 10, 1851.
WHEN a child is frightened at any strange apparition, the best remedy is to lead him up to it; and when men have been accustomed to pay homage to some wonder-working image, the most effectual argument against their idolatry has sometimes been found to show them how the idol is made. Many have, perhaps, been led to make one or other of these mistakes with regard to the Middle Ages; the long shadows of the past so easily convert common things into miracles or monsters. It is hoped that the simple narratives contained in this volume may help, in some degree, to remove both mistakes, by showing things as they are.
This little work is a translation of the Second Part of Neander’s “Denkwürdigkeiten aus der Geschichte des christlichen Lebens,” which may be regarded as a popular and practical supplement to his “History of the Christian Religion and Church.”
The translator would feel the toil of many summer hours amply rewarded, should this volume tend in any measure to strengthen our reverent love for the good men of other times, whilst manifesting their mistakes; to lessen any blind homage for the “golden mean” of time, whilst unveiling the lights which have shone before those who watched for them in the darkest ages; to dispel any sentimental worship of times and seasons, and human institutions; and at the same time to enlarge our sympathies with that holy Church of the redeemed and the regenerate, which is catholic amongst, the centuries as well as amongst the nations.
She will look on her labours as indeed
May we also, with Dr. Neander, as with all human teachers, remember
that they are “ours”—not we “theirs;” not, indeed, in the spirit of “right” and
self-will, but of lowlier subjection to a loftier guide—and of that true loyalty
to our Lord, which makes all hero-worship for us not only idolatry, but treason.
And now that his words come to us with the touching solemnity of a voice which death
has so recently silenced, may we listen to them, and learn from them, in the spirit
PART I. |
|
| Page | |
OPERATIONS OF CHRISTIANITY DURING AND AFTER THE IRRUPTION OF THE BARBARIANS. |
|
| Introduction | 11 |
| 1. The North African Church under the Vandals | 13 |
|
(Martyrs.—Eugenius, Bishop of Carthage |
22 |
|
(Fulgentius, Bishop of Ruspe) |
31 |
|
2. Severinus in Germany |
36 |
|
3. Labours of Pious Men in France |
50 |
|
a. Germanus of Auxerre |
50 |
|
b. Lupus of Troyes |
54 |
|
c. Cæsarius of Arles |
56 |
|
d. Epiphanius of Pavia |
96 |
|
e. Eligius of Noyon |
98 |
|
(Archanefreda, Mother of Desiderius |
98 |
|
Desiderius of Cahors |
111 |
|
f. The Abbots Euroul and Loumon |
115 |
|
4. Gregory the Great, Bishop of Rome |
117 |
|
5. Christianity in Poverty and Lowliness, and on the Sick Bed |
146 |
PART II. |
|
MEMOIRS FROM THE HISTORY OF MISSIONS IN THE MIDDLE AGES. |
|
|
1. General Remarks on the History of Missions in this Age |
150 |
|
Christianity in its relations to Barbarism and Civilization |
151 |
|
Manifold modes of Conversion |
158 |
|
Death of the Venerable Bede |
162 |
|
2. The Life and Labours of individual Missionaries |
173 |
|
a. Patrick, Apostle of the Irish |
173 |
|
b. Columban |
187 |
|
c. Gallus, Apostle of Switzerland |
211 |
|
d. Boniface, Apostle of the Germans |
217 |
|
e. Gegory, Abbot of Utrecht |
243 |
|
f. Sturm, Abbot of Fulda |
247 |
|
g. Alcuin on true Missionary Labours |
251 |
|
h. Lindger and Willehad |
256 |
|
i. Anschar, Apostle of the North |
261 |
|
j. The Martyr Adalbert in Prussia |
272 |
|
k. The Monk Nilus |
277 |
|
l. Otho of Bamberg, Apostle of the Pomeranians |
294 |
|
m. Raymond Lull |
320 |
OPERATIONS OF CHRISTIANITY DURING AND AFTER THE CONFUSION PRODUCED BY THE IRRUPTION OF THE BARBARIANS.
IN the fifth century we see destruction fall on the empire of
the city which called itself eternal; and even the great ecclesiastical institutions,
the fruit of the blood of martyrs and the prolonged labours of enlightened and pious
doctors, swept away by the tide of this mighty devastation. But whilst the heathen
mourned hopelessly over the grave of these earthly splendours, and saw, despairingly,
the old forms of civilization perish before the inroads of barbarism, good Christians
held fast to the anchor of hope, on which they could raise themselves above all
mutable things, and by which they could find a firm footing in the very midst of
this torrent of destruction. They knew, that “heaven and earth should pass away,
but that the
In that age of impending ruin, a Christian Doctor writes thus (probably Leo the Great, before he became bishop):—
“The very weapons by which the world is devastated, minister to
the operations of Christian grace. How many, who, during the calm of peace, deferred
their baptism, are now driven by the momentary fear of peril to be baptized! How
many slothful and lukewarm spirits are there, on whom imminent terror has effected
what quiet exhortations could never accomplish! Many sons of the Church, who have
fallen into captivity among their enemies, have made known the Gospel to their masters,
and have become the teachers of those into whose bondage they had fallen by the
lot of war. Others of the barbarians who served among the Roman mercenaries, have
by this means learned amongst us, what they could not have learned in their fatherland,
and have returned to their homes instructed in Christianity. Thus nothing can hinder
Individuals in whom the Gospel had enkindled a holy fire of love,—men who, with the strong power of faith united the spirit of wisdom, appeared like ambassadors from heaven, like beings of a nobler, god-like race; and such, indeed they were amongst the corrupt and enervated nations which fell beneath the power of the rude barbarians, and amongst the conquerors themselves. It was thus shown how much the individual can do through the power of religion. We shall first turn our eyes to the North African Churches, in which the period of desolation followed close on the period of the highest prosperity.
THE wild tribes of the Vandals—which, although outwardly professing
Christianity, yet, instructed and guided by ignorant and fanatical priests, seem
to have had no idea of its essence—overran North Africa, under their cruel and despotic
king, Geiserich. A fanatical hatred to the confessors of another form of doctrine
(the Vandals being the adherents of Arianism) was united with an insatiable avarice,
for which it served as an apology. The
To one of these confessors, named Arcadius, who had at first been
sentenced to exile, the bishop
Martinian and Maxima, after severe tortures because they would
not deny their faith, were given as bond-slaves to the prince of the wild tribes
which peopled the deserts of Northern Africa. They sought by preaching, and by their
life, to convert these heathen tribes; and in a district into which before no tidings
of the Gospel had spread, through their agency many were gained over. Thereupon
they sent messengers through pathless tracts to a city under the Roman dominion,
in order to procure teachers and pastors for their new converts. These having arrived,
many were baptized,
Thus did God glorify himself amongst this heathen people, by the power of faith of these sufferers; and even those who were not by their example themselves led to embrace their faith, may yet have been brought by it to recognise him who imparted such strength to those who confessed him, as a mighty God.
When in a later age the hereditary prince of the Moors in the
neighbourhood of Tripoli, was at war with the Vandal king Trasamund, he sent some
of his people disguised into the districts through which the Vandal army marched;
and whilst the Vandals in their passage had desecrated in every way the churches
which did not belong to their fellow-believers, these Moors were ordered to pay
all honour to them, as well as to the clergy, whom the Vandals
When Geiserich, in 439, plundered Carthage, the great metropolis
of northern Africa, many were precipitated from the summit of earthly prosperity
into wretchedness. Whole families, who, although they had lost their all, might
be thankful to have preserved even their life and liberty, wandered about hopelessly
in different countries. Others, men and women of the first families, were carried
away captive, and sold .as slaves in various districts. Nevertheless their earthly
need became to many the means of spiritual health, and an occasion for the exercise
of Christian virtues. Many an one, who, in his prosperity had never troubled himself
about religious matters, was, by the pressure of adverse circumstances, directed
to that which he lacked. Thus was a senator, who wandered about with his whole family,
and who had previously remained an alien to Christianity, now first through his
sufferings brought to the faith. The bishop Theodoret wrote, in recommending them
to the support of Christian love: “I have been astonished at the disposition of
this man, for he; praises the Ruler of his destiny, as if he were still in the midst
of earthly prosperity; and he does not think of the heavy storm which haft come
upon him, because his misfortunes have brought him the treasure of
A maiden of a distinguished family was sold as a slave; she was bought by Syrian merchants, and thus came into the service of a family of the city of Kyros, on the Euphrates, where Theodoret was bishop. With her was sold one of her former female slaves, and they now shared the same lot. But although the outward bond between herself and her mistress was dissolved, the slave would not dissolve the inward bond of love. After the service of their now common masters, she would wait on her former mistress. This became by degrees known throughout the city, and made a great impression. Some pious soldiers made a collection in order to ransom the unfortunate maiden. The bishop Theodoret, who was absent at the time, on his return charged the deacons of the Church to provide for the maintenance of the ransomed captive. Afterwards, when it became known that her father was still living, and was filling an official situation in the west, Theodoret endeavoured to effect her restoration to him.
Amongst such maidens of rank who had been sold into captivity,
was one of the name of Julia. She had for her master a heathen merchant of Palestine,
called Eusebius, She fulfilled her duties
Twenty years later, Rome, the ancient metropolis of the world, experienced a similar fate with the metropolis of northern Africa. Only by the influence which the representations of Leo, bishop of Rome, exercised on the minds of the rude Vandals, could Rome be saved from total destruction and ruin. Notwithstanding this, so transient was the impression made by this circumstance on the light-minded Romans, that when a thanksgiving feast was ordered on account of it, Leo found the church empty, whilst the theatre and circus were full. This drew from him an admonitory sermon, in which he said: “Let that saying of our Lord’s touch your hearts, where He says, that of the ten lepers whom He had cleansed through the power of His compassion, only one returned to give thanks; while the thankless nine, on the contrary, whose souls had retained their ungodly dispositions, although their bodies were healed, neglected this pious duty. Lest this rebuke to the thankless should apply to you likewise, return you to the Lord, acknowledge the miracle which God has wrought for us; and ascribe not ye, like the godless, our deliverance to the operations of the stars, but render thanks to the inexpressible compassion of the Almighty God, who has willed to soften the hearts of the furious barbarians.”
One consequence of the capture of Rome by the king of the Vandal
army was, that a crowd of captives
Four-and-twenty years the Church of Carthage remained orphaned;
the Vandals refusing to install a new bishop. It was not until the reign of king
Hunnerich, who did not at first display so persecuting a spirit, that the eastern
emperor, Zeno, obtained permission for the Church to elect a new bishop. But the
Vandal king made one condition, Quibus voluerint lingus
populo tractare.
As the clergy of Carthage could easily see that a treaty with
such conditions might serve as an excuse for many persecutions of the oppressed
party in Africa, they declared that “on such conditions they would accept no bishops,
but would trust to Christ, who hitherto had guided the Church, to guide it still.”
But the Church was very desirous of having a bishop, and urged that one should be
elected. The choice fell upon Eugenius, a man well fitted by his zeal and faith
for
The oppressors determined, however, to carry out their purpose; they placed guards at the church doors, who were ordered to seize and ill-treat every man and woman in the Vandal costume who sought to enter.
After many harsh and cruel measures had been adopted, four thousand
nine hundred and seventy-six of the clergy and laity, who had distinguished themselves
by their zeal, were sentenced to banishment into an African desert. Amongst these
were many sick; and old men whom age had robbed of sight. When they arrived at Lina,
Veneria, and Cares, frontier towns of Numidia, where the Moors were to fetch them,
two Vandal officers of rank, in the service of the state, came to them, and endeavoured
to persuade them to comply with the will of the king, who would reward them with
great honours: but their answer was, “We are Christians; we are orthodox Christians.”
Thereupon they were thrown into a narrow prison, where they stood so close together
that they could not move, and from which they were not allowed a moment’s absence;
so that the confinement in this pestilential cell became the most terrible torture.
Nevertheless, their faith gave them steadfastness and joy in the midst of such great
sufferings. And when, on Sunday, in the miserable condition into which this painful
imprisonment had thrown them, without being allowed any refreshment,
Meanwhile, the arrival of an ambassador from the Eastern empire
procured, at least apparently, milder measures. The king commanded a disputation
to be held between the bishops of both parties, which was to commence at Carthage,
on
Eugenius, bishop of Carthage, to whom the mandate of the king
was first addressed, immediately perceived the danger which threatened his fellow-believers.
If they accepted the challenge, it was easy to foresee that the dominant party
Since the Divine power which flows from Christ has been introduced
into the lives of men, it is not always easy in the impressions produced by the
reflection of his image—that is, by the power of faith, of love, of prayer—to distinguish
between the
The issue of the religious conference at Carthage was, as might
have been expected, that the oppressed party was accused of having evaded a quiet
investigation, and that king Hunnerich, who regarded them as convicted heretics,
issued an edict in which he withdrew from them all toleration of their religion,
and sentenced them to similar punishments with those to which the Arians in the
These cruel persecutions gave occasion for many beautiful examples of Christian fidelity and constancy. Thus, amongst others, seven monks from the city of Capso, within the province of Byzarene, were banished to Carthage. Their persecutors sought at first to seduce them to apostasy from their faith by promises. When they declared that for no price would they be untrue to their faith, they were loaded with heavy chains, and thrown into a dark cell. But the people bribed the jailors; and day and night the prison was full of visitors, whom the captives, by their conversations, inspired with new courage to endure the worst. As they were led through the streets to the scaffold, they went to meet their death, singing, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will towards men.” And to the people they cried, “Fear no threats, and no terror of present suffering, but let us rather die for Christ’s sake, as he has died for us.” The Arians tried particularly to shake the faith of a boy who was of the number; but he answered, “No man shall separate me from my father (the abbot Liberatus) and my brothers, who have brought me up in the convent; and with them will I suffer, as I trust also with them to enter into the glory that shall follow.”
To an eminent man of Carthage, who had formerly
A lady, who, after much ill-treatment, had been banished into a remote desert, replied, when it was proposed to grant her a milder exile, “Abandoned of all earthly consolation, I still find one abundant spring of consolation and joy.”
Bishop Eugenius was, indeed, after some years, recalled from exile
by the Vandal king Guntemund; but, in the year 496, he was once more suddenly severed
from his people by king Thrasimund. As he knew not what was to become of him, he
took leave of his Church in a touching letter. “In order,” he wrote, “not to leave
the Church of God in an uncertain state during my absence, or like a faithless shepherd
silently to desert the sheep of Christ, I have deemed it necessary, as a compensation
for my personal presence, to address this letter to you, by which I pray, exhort,
conjure you with tears, to hold fast the true faith. My brothers, sons, and daughters,
in the Lord, be not troubled at my absence; for if ye remain faithful to the true
doctrine, I will not forget you in the far country, nor suffer even death itself
to separate me from
Amongst the men who distinguished themselves by their beneficial
activity during these hard times for the North African Church, was Fulgentius. He
filled the office of receiver of the taxes (procurator) in the African Vandal dominions,
and wail on the high road to preferment. He sought, indeed, to soften the strictness
which his office demanded of him by the spirit of love, but notwithstanding this,
his gentle and affectionate heart could find no rest in the administration of such
an office. This contradiction between his nature and his circumstances, tended the
more to develop in him a disgust with the world, and a longing for a quiet spiritual
life. “May I not,” he thought, “like Matthew, become from a tax-gatherer a disciple
of the Lord, and a preacher of the Gospel?” He became a monk; and afterwards, at
a time when king Thrasimund would tolerate no bishop belonging to an orthodox Church,
he was, against his will, chosen
We will extract some passages from these letters. He thus exhorts
a Roman senator: “Direct thy heart to the Holy Scriptures, and learn thence what
thou wert, what thou art, and what thou shouldst be. If thou comest with a softened
and
From his second banishment, Fulgentius was soon recalled by the
mild rule of king Hilderich. The return of the persecuted confessors was a festival
for the Carthaginian Church. Multitudes poured forth to the harbour to meet them.
But the greatest love and reverence were shown to Fulgentius. As he returned from
Carthage to his church, great crowds came to welcome him from all directions, with
torches and wreaths, pealing forth the praises of God. Nevertheless he who had been
steadfast in his faith in affliction, in this change of fortune, when assailed by
the subtle and more perilous temptations of pride, continued steadfast in his humility.
The honour which was paid him only made him feel the more strongly his inward unworthiness.
He had no desire to work miracles, because the performance of marvellous things,
he said, “did not give men righteousness, but glory amongst men. But he who is famous
amongst men will not, if unjust, escape eternal punishment; whilst, on the other
hand, he who, justified by the mercy of God, lives justly in the sight of God, shall,
however little known to man, have part in the happiness of the saints.” When he
was requested to pray for the sick or suffering, he prayed with this addition:—”Lord,
thou knowest what will minister
As the Lord ever sends his angels when there is most need of help,
so in the midst of the desolation and destruction which ensued on that irruption
of the barbarians by which the Roman empire was
The district where he settled, the modern Austria and Bavaria, was then the theatre of the greatest desolation and confusion. No place was secure, one wild tribe followed another; all social order was dissolved. The land was devastated, the inhabitants carried away as slaves. Universal destitution and famine ensued on these perpetual wars. When Severinus had lived a long time among these nations, and accomplished much amongst them, so that his fame was spread far and wide and the episcopal dignity was offered him, he declined it, saying, “it was enough for him, that he had been deprived of his beloved solitude and led by Divine Providence into these regions to live amongst men who left him no rest.”
It must, indeed, have made a great impression on the enervated as well as on the savage nations, when they saw Severinus voluntarily renounce all comforts, and live at so small and mean a cost; when, in mid-winter, when the Danube was so firmly frozen that it could bear carriages, they saw him go about barefoot amidst the ice and snow.
Those nations which corrupt civilization had
There was a great contrast between him and the worldly-minded clergy, as indeed one of their number once acknowledged when he said: “Depart from our city, thou holy man, that during thine absence we may enjoy a little relaxation from fasting and watching.” The warm-hearted Severinus could not restrain his tears, that a man of his holy calling should desecrate his position by such frivolous words.
Yet it was far from him to look on these renunciations as anything
meritorious, and on their account to regard himself as a saint. When men praised
him for them, he said, “Believe not that what you see is any merit of mine, but
let it rather serve you as a wholesome example. Let human
Whilst he thus provided for the earthly wants of men, and imparted
to them earthly gifts, he never ceased to unite with these spiritual blessings,
by directing the eyes of all to the fountain of all spiritual and bodily good. He
opened the assembly with prayer, and was wont, before he proceeded to the distribution
of the gifts, to conclude with these words, “The name of the Lord be praised.” He
used to remind the poor that they should receive these gifts as from the hand of
the Lord, and give him thanks. His love was broad and universal; and, according
to the true nature of Christian love, not narrowed by any kind of limitation. He
saw in the barbarians as in the Romans, in the Arians as in the sons of the Church,
brethren, needing his help. When he fell in with princes or chiefs of the barbarous
tribes who professed the Arian doctrine, he did not begin with discussions about
dogmas. He did not at once repel them by damnatory judgments on the doctrine which
they professed, but first attached them to him by the power
It is evident, from many examples, what power Severinus exercised
over the minds of these men. The son of a prince of Rugen, who had regarded Severinus
as his most faithful and trustworthy counsellor, wished to fall on the city of Lorch,
in which, by the counsel of Severinus, a multitude of the inhabitants of the surrounding
districts had taken refuge from the swords of the barbarians, and to disperse those
who had settled there into various parts of his dominions. They all besought Severinus,
when this terrible rumour reached them, to go out to meet the prince and endeavour
to soften his purpose. Severinus arose at once, and travelled
People relied so much on the guardian power of this single man, that the inhabitants of the Roman fortresses besought him to dwell among them; declaring that they should be better guarded by his presence than by their walls. If he were amongst them, so they deemed, no harm could befall them. Thus he had procured himself a little cell in the city of Passau, where he established himself, when the citizens called him thence in order to be defended, by his intercession, from the ravages of the Alemanni, whose king, Gewald, had a great respect and love for him. This king once wished to come to this city, only that he might see Severinus again. Severinus went to meet him, anxious to spare the city a burdensome guest. By his exhortations, he made such an impression on the king, that he was seized with a violent trembling; and afterwards told his people that never, in all the perils of war, had he trembled so before. When he, thus impressed, asked Severinus what request he would make of him, Severinus besought him that, for his own sake, as well as for that of others, he would restrain his army from desolating the Roman empire, and liberate the captives whom his subjects had Carried away. A number of these unfortunates were, in fact, after this set at liberty.
His high-hearted trust in God, communicated even to the weak courage
and strength in their calling. Whilst he was sojourning in the city of Faviana,
the whole neighbourhood, even up to the walls of the town, was disturbed by barbarous
Severinus was regarded as a prophet. It may be that among the
gifts with which God glorified
He was also regarded as a worker of miracles. He himself claimed no such fame. Often did he enjoin silence on those who were witnesses of the things which he accomplished. When at one time, one sick to death was laid on her bed before the cell of Severinus, he said, weeping: “Why do you demand great things of the insignificant? I acknowledge myself totally unworthy: may I but attain forgiveness of my own sins!”
But as they persevered, saying, “We believe, if thou prayest,
she will yet survive,” be threw himself, weeping, on his knees. And when his prayer
had been granted, he said: “Ascribe nothing whatever of all this to my work.
This grace has been obtained by fervent faith, and this occurs in many
A monk, named Bonosus, who suffered from a disease in the eyes, sought to be healed by the prayer of Severinus. But Severinus advised him rather to pray to God, that his inward eye might be enlightened; and following the repeated lessons of this revered man, the monk learned at length to seek rather for spiritual than bodily sight, and to forget his sufferings in intercourse with God.
How remarkably Severinus was sustained by Providence in his labours,
two examples may suffice to show. The land had been much ravaged by locusts. When
the prayers of Severinus were entreated, to avert this calamity, he said: “Have
ye not heard what God commanded the sinful nation by his prophets? ‘Turn unto me
with your whole hearts; rend your hearts and not your garments; sanctify a fast;
call the solemn assembly.’
When Gisa, the queen of the people of Rügen, had sentenced some
captive Roman subjects to hard labour, Severinus entreated their release. She sent
him a very angry answer, importing that he might shut himself up in his cell and
pray, and leave her to do what she pleased with her slaves. When Severinus heard
this, he said: “I have confidence in my Lord Jesus Christ, that she will be compelled
by necessity to do that which with her perverted mind she will not do willingly.”
It happened soon after, that the queen met the punishment which was a natural result
of her harshness
When Severinus felt the approach of death, he invited the king of the people of Rügen, with his cruel wife, once more to visit him. He exhorted him, with fearless freedom, so to behave to his subjects, as always to remember the account he would have to render to the Lord. Then, pointing with his hand to the heart of the king, he asked of Gisa, “Which do you love best,—that soul, or gold and silver?” And when she replied that her husband was worth more to her than all the treasures of the world, he said, “Be careful then not to oppress the innocent, lest you yourself thereby prepare the downfall of your power—for you have often stood in the way of the king’s clemency. I, a lowly man, on the point of departing to God, conjure you to renounce your evil deeds, and adorn your life with good works.”
In his last hours, he gathered his monks around him, and gave them touching exhortations to lead a life devoted to God. Then he embraced each of them, and received cheerfully the Holy Supper, begging them not to weep, but to sing psalms. When they could not articulate for sorrow, he began himself to sing, “Praise the Lord, ye His saints; let everything that hath breath praise the Lord;” and these were his last words. After shedding blessings around him during thirty years, in the midst of desolation, he died on the 1st of January, 482.
IN ancient Gaul also many pious bishops were especially distinguished, amidst the overturning of the nations, by their unwearied zeal and Christian love.
SUCH was Germanus, bishop of Auxerre, who held this office in
418, from the narratives of whose life and labours we will here give some extracts.
It happened, about ten years after his entering on his office, that he was summoned
by Lupus, bishop of Troyes, into Britain, in order to oppose the spread of the Pelagian
doctrine, as a system which taught men to rely rather on their own strength than
on the grace of the Redeemer, and by the illusions of
At another time, when he was just returned from a second journey
to Britain, his aid was besought
As he was coming out of the rich city of Milan, where he had been
preaching a great deal, some poor people met him, begging alms. He asked his attendant
deacon how large their store of money was. The deacon replied that he had not more
When the horsemen heard that he had resolved to come, they presented him with the sum of two hundred solidi, (a gold coin of the time,) which had been given them for Bishop Germanus. Germanus gave it to his deacon, and said: “Take this, and acknowledge that thou hast robbed the poor of one hundred of these pieces; for if thou hadst given all to the poor, He who repayeth a hundredfold would have restored to us three hundred pieces to-day.” His arrival diffused universal joy at the estate; he visited master and servant, with equal sympathy, on their sick beds; he went even into the poorest huts, and strengthened all by prayer.
At the imperial court of Ravenna, Germanus received universal
honour; and he could easily have obtained whatever he wished. The empress
Once when, during his residence at Ravenna, he was conversing with the bishops on religious topics, he said to them: “My brethren, I wish you farewell in this world. The Lord appeared to me tonight in a dream, and gave me some travelling-money. And when I asked the object of the journey, He answered me: “Fear not, I do not send .thee into a strange land, but into thy fatherland, where thou wilt find everlasting rest.” The bishops sought to apply the dream to his return to his earthly country; but he would not suffer the mistake, saying: “I know well what fatherland the Lord hath promised His servant.”
Into this heavenly country he soon after passed. He died
July 31, 448.
Lupus, bishop of Troyes, the contemporary and friend of Germanus,
saved his city from impending destruction, by his powerful influence over the
Julianus, a contemporary, thus describes a pious bishop of those
times:—”By a holy life and holy preaching, he converts many to God. He does nothing
in a domineering way, but everything in humility. He places himself on a level with
his inferiors by the efforts of holy love. He seeks, in his life and preaching,
not his own glory, but Christ’s. All the honour which is paid him for his priestly
life and teaching, he constantly refers to God. He consoles the downcast, he feeds
the poor, he clothes the naked, he ransoms the captive. He shows the erring the
way of salvation; he announces to the despairing the hope of pardon. He urges on
those that are already running; he diffuses light amongst the wandering. Such a
man is a minister of the Word, he understands the voice
He was born in the district of Chalons-sur-Saone, A. D. 470. He seems to have been early awakened, by a pious education, to vital Christianity. When he was between seven and eight years old, it would often happen that he would give a portion of his clothes to the poor whom he met, and would say, when he came home, that he had been, constrained to do so. When yet a youth, he entered the celebrated convent on the island of Lerins, (Lerina,) in Provence, from which a spirit of deep and practical piety was then diffused. France had already received many distinguished doctors from this monastery. The weak and delicate body of the young Cæsarius was so much exhausted by the severities and abstinences which he there imposed on himself, that the abbot himself desired him to repair to the city of Arles for the restoration of his health.
There were at this time in that neighbourhood many pious women,
who employed their property in relieving the distress of those times of desolation,
and helped the good bishops in their works of love. Such was Synagria, who, because
she assisted the Church in the accomplishment of every good design, more than mere
wealth could, was called “the treasury of the church.” When Epiphanius,
Another such pious lady was Gregoria, who, with Firminius, a near
relation of hers, had devoted herself at Arles to works of love. She received the
young Cæsarius, to take care of him. She introduced him to the bishop of the city,
who, soon perceiving what was in him, appointed him to the superintendence of a
convent on a neighbouring island. How far he was, with all his esteem for monasticism,
from confounding the means with the end, or from setting any value on asceticism
apart from the essence of the true Christian character—true inward holiness, is
evident from an admonitory epistle of his to monks. “What avails it,” he says, “if
our body only dwells in the place of rest, and unrest continues to rule in our hearts;
if the appearance of rest is diffused over our exterior deportment, whilst storms
rage within? For we are not come into this place in order to permit ourselves to
be ministered to by the world, in order to enjoy plenty and repose. You ought to
know, my brethren, that it avails us nothing if we distress our bodies with fasting
and watching, and do not amend our hearts or care for our souls. In vain
In the year 500, he became bishop of Arles. Whilst he entrusted
to others the outward affairs of his Church, he devoted himself entirely to the
care of souls, and to providing religious instruction. This, certainly, appears
to be the most sacred duty of a bishop, and Cæsarius was quite penetrated with the
sense of the responsibility of his office. He would frequently urge this duty on
the foreign clergymen who visited him, who did not seem sufficiently anxious about
the religious instruction of their flocks. “Brother,” he said to many, “consider,
as a wise shepherd, the hundred sheep committed to thee, that thou mayst restore
them twofold. Hear what the prophet says: ‘Woe to me that I have been silent!’ Hear
what the
He frequently invited his young clergy to bring him questions
about the interpretation of Scripture. “I know well,” he often said to them, “that
you do not understand everything;—why do you not ask, that you may learn to understand?
You should spur us on by your questions, that we may be compelled to search in order
to impart to you sweet spiritual nourishment.” His zeal and earnestness in the proclamation
of the Divine Word, is shown by these words of a sermon:—”I ask you, my brethren
or sisters, which seems to you of the most value, the Word of God or the body of
Christ (the Sacrament—the bread and wine)? If ye will reply truly ye must say, that
the Word of God is no wise inferior to the body of Christ. Therefore, the same care
that we take in distributing the body of Christ, lest any portion of it should fall
from our hands to the ground, we should take when the Word of God is distributed
amongst us, lest, whilst we think or speak of other things, any of it should fall
from our hearts. I would ask if, at the hour when the Word of God begins to be preached,
precious stones or golden rings were always distributed,
In that age, when the old civilization was declining amidst the convulsions of the nations, preaching became all the more important, as a means of culture for the people. On the rude men who valued sermons the less, the more they needed them, it was often necessary to exercise a kind of violence to constrain them to listen,—thus at the council held at Agde, where Bishop Cæsarius presided, it was decreed, that at Divine service, on Sunday, the people should remain till the benediction at the close. Once, when Cæsarius saw several people hastening out of the church, after the reading of the Gospel, he ran to them, and said:—”What are you doing, my children? Whither are you suffering yourselves to be led by evil counsel? For your soul’s sake, hearken diligently to the word of exhortation, At the day of judgment ye will not be able to act thus. I exhort, I conjure you, hasten not hence, and be not deaf. I shall not, at any rate, have been guilty of silence.”
It is clear, that in such an age as we have described, in order
to obtain much and general blessing, it was especially necessary that the preacher
should condescend to the position of the uneducated, and use language which they
could understand.
By such maxims as these was Cæsarius guided, as he says in one
of his sermons; “If I were to interpret the Holy Scriptures to you after the manner
of the fathers, the spiritual food would only be adapted for a few educated men;
the multitude of the uneducated would be compelled to hunger; therefore, I humbly
entreat you, that it may please every one to hearken patiently to my simple words,
We will here adduce another instance, from a Visitation Sermon
in the country, in which he combats the excuse of ignorance in religious matters:
“Tell me who has shown thee how thou shouldst dress thy vineyards, and at what time
thou shouldst plant the new vines? Who has taught thee that? Thou hast seen it or
heard it, or thou hast inquired of the best vine-dressers, how thou shouldst till
thy vineyard. Why, then, art thou not as careful about thy soul as about thy vineyard?
Give heed, my brethren, I beseech you,—there are two kinds of fields: the field
of God, and the field of men! Thy field is thy farm—God’s field is thy soul. Is
it just that thou shouldst till thine own field and let God’s lie fallow? Does God
deserve this of us, that we should neglect our souls, which are to him so dear?
By our husbandry, we shall only live a
The sermons which Cæsarius preached during his visitations of
his diocese, both in the cities and in the country, express vividly his fatherly
love to every portion of his large diocese, and his grief that the numerous occupations
occasioned by the difficult circumstances of which we shall hereafter speak, prevented
him from visiting them more frequently. Thus, in one of these discourses, he says:
“If the necessity of the times permitted it, I would As the rights of the clergy seem to have been very limited in
those districts, until they were extended by the influence of Cæsarius, it is probable
that in many districts the village churches received no religious instruction except
at the visitations of the bishop. It was now provided, that even when the parish
priest (parson) was ill, the congregation should not be entirely deprived of preaching;
a deacon being authorized to read something from ancient sermons. Wisely, too, was
the clerical idea combatted, that to deliver sermons was something too high for
a deacon, although it was the deacon’s office to read the Gospels in the church.
“If the deacons are worthy to read what Christ has said in the Gospel, why should
they be deemed unworthy to read the comments of the fathers.” It is narrated in
the biography of Cæsarius, that he instructed his presbyters and deacons, in order
that the Church might lose nothing if he were hindered by sickness; saying, “What?
If the words of our Lord, of the prophets, or of the Apostles, are read by presbyters
and deacons, should it not be permitted them to read the words of Ambrose, of Augustine,
or of my insignificant self? The servant is not greater than his Lord. Those who
have the right to read the Gospels are, in my opinion, quite worthy to read in the
church the sermons of the servants of God, or their interpretations of the Holy
Scriptures. “I have done what I could. Those bishops who neglect to provide
for these things, will have to render an account at the day of judgment. But surely
no one can be so hardened in his mind, that when God calls to him, Be of good courage,
cry aloud, spare not,’ he should not only not cry himself, but also hinder others
from crying. Let him fear these words of the prophet
It was his earnest endeavour to make inquiry into Divine truths
the personal concern of every
Throughout the sermons of Cæsarius, may be traced an evident effort
to combat the externalizing religion of the age, to direct men’s attention to the
true needs of the inward life, and to eradicate their trust in outward works. As
a disciple of Augustine, of whose writings he had manifestly chiefly availed himself,
he always pointed out love to God as the only true source of all goodness. “Whatever
good works,” he said, “a man may do, they are all nothing, unless true love be
in him; love, which extends not to friends alone, but to enemies.” He quotes
“My brethren, what is there sweeter than love? Let him who knows
it not, taste and see. Hear what the Apostle says: God is love.’ What can be sweeter
than that? Let him who knows it not, hear what the Psalmist says, ( Eng.
Lit.—We lift them up unto the Lord.
Life and preaching, with this man of God, flowed from one fountain:
that which was the soul of his sermons was also the soul of his life. It is related
of him, that he never prayed only for himself; that when he suffered wrong from
his enemies, he used simply to say, “May God blot out thy sins; may God take away
thy sins; may God chastise thy sins, that thou mayest not retain them; may God amend
thy soul here below.” He prayed also with fervour for his enemies. His inward life
expressed itself in his outward life. A heavenly repose dwelt ever on his countenance;
so that, according to the “A merry heart doeth good like a medicine.”
Although Cæsarius, in those times of dearth, often earnestly urged beneficence and almsgiving, yet he also frequently spoke with great emphasis against the delusion of those who converted almsgiving into an external justification by works, and imagined thus to make up for all their sins. Thus, in a sermon on the Festival of the Three Kings, (Epiphany,) he says: “Those wise men from the East brought worthy gifts to the Lord Christ: do ye bring Him your souls; bring Him spiritual gifts, that is, yourselves; for God loves you more than yours. There are many who give alms, and yet do not renounce sin. These give their goods to God, and themselves to the devil. But God has no fellowship with the devil; and, therefore, you must banish from you robbery, rioting, pride, hatred, and all evil things, that your Creator may possess you wholly.”
He spoke thus against the delusion of those, who, attributing
a magical power to the sign of the cross, were only confirmed in their sins by it:
“I beseech you, dearest brethren,” he said, “let us very carefully consider why
we are Christians, and bear the cross of Christ upon our brows. For, we must know,
that it is not enough to receive the Christian name, if we do not bring forth Christ-like
works. As the Lord himself says in the Gospel: ‘Of what
So, also, at the consecration of churches, he sought to turn the
thoughts of the assembly from the outward sanctuary to the inward sanctuary in the
heart; e.g.—”Whenever we celebrate the festival
In prayer, also, he taught the distinction between the appearance
and the essence. “Above all, must we pray to God in silence and quietness; He hears
our very sighs, as it is said of Hannah, (
As it was a matter of so much importance to Cæsarius to make Christianity
and Christian devotion a common concern of every member of the Church, he introduced,
instead of the hymns sung only by the priest, choruses, in which all were to
He often warns against everything which tends to make men secure
in their sins: as, when many gave themselves up to their lusts, in the hope that
on the sick bed it would be early enough to repent and obtain absolution; or, when
others thought to insure their salvation by receiving the tonsure and the monastic
habit on their death-bed; or, when others excused themselves by saying, that they
could not renounce the world in their youth, and imagined they were thereby saved
the trouble of a true conversion: against such a delusion, Cæsarius says:—”We need
have no hesitation in declaring what awaits the man who constantly lives in sin,
and puts off his repentance to the end of his life, sinning on in the hope that
a momentary repentance will obtain him the forgiveness of all his sins; the man,
who, after having submitted himself to ecclesiastical penance, restores not his
unjust gains, does not pardon his enemies with his whole heart, does not purpose
in his heart, if he recovers, to repent all his life long with great contrition
and humility; we need not say, for the Lord himself has said in the plainest way
in the Gospel, what awaits such a man. ‘If ye forgive not others their trespasses,
neither will your heavenly Father forgive you your trespasses.’ How shall the sinner,
who will not forgive, be forgiven? ‘Or how shall it be given to those who have not
given?’ for the Lord will surely say to those who have never given alms, ‘Depart
from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire: I was hungry, and ye fed me not.’ I may
indeed The question, whether a death-bed repentance would avail
a man, was frequently discussed at that time. The pious Faustus, bishop of Rhegium,
(Reiz,) in Provence, had, in his warm zeal for practical Christianity, and in order
to give no ground for security in a sinful life, denied it all significance. “Since
God will not suffer himself to be mocked, that man deludes himself who begins, whilst
scarcely half alive, to seek life, and then first resolves on the service
of God, when all the faculties of soul and body fail him for the service. He seems
but to mock God, who delays as long as possible to seek the physician; and begins
to will, when he no longer can.” Justly, and wisely, especially for
that age, did Faustus here deny the value of a dead faith, not manifesting itself
by works. This letter of Faustus disquieted Hundebad, the Burgundian king, who (as
may be seen from the letters of Avitus, to whom he addressed many theological questions)
was thoughtfully disposed, and he asked Avitus, bishop of Vienne, his opinion. He
declared with reason, that if a true conversion, proceeding from repentance and
faith, took place even in the last moment, it could not be in vain. He referred
to
In combatting the delusion of those who imagined that they need
only repent of the grosser and more palpable sins, and in seeking to show that every
Christian, even those who were considered holy, had perpetual need of repentance,
he numbers as among the minor sins, neglecting to visit the sick and imprisoned
at the due time, neglecting to reconcile enemies, unnecessarily irritating neighbour,
or wife, or son, or servant. If, amongst men who were inclined to place religion
in a dead faith and ceremonial observances, he insisted on the necessity of good
works as the fruits of faith, and set the requirements of the Holy Ghost before
their eyes in all their strictness, he was, nevertheless, no preacher of the law,
which killeth, and can never make alive. He did not direct men to their own strength;
but sought rather to bring them to a true sense of their powerlessness, that they
might learn to draw from that Eternal Fountain of all strength to which he directed
them; He says, after representing what
In consequence of the convulsions from which France was then suffering,
and the frequent marching and countermarchings of heathen, or recently Christianized
tribes, many superstitious pagan customs were again diffused; such as, the observance Among the superstitious customs which Cæsarius, perhaps vainly,
sought to repress, was the abuse then becoming prevalent in France, of seeking oracles
about earthly things in that book which is the guide to eternal life—i. e.
the Lot of the Holy Scriptures. Even in earlier times, it had often happened that
pious men would, in an important crisis of their inward life, take an appropriate
expression of the Scriptures as a word directly addressed to them from heaven: we
find examples of this in the lives of St. Athanasius and Augustin. But it was somewhat
different from this to seek for decisions about uncertain earthly events in the
Scriptures, and to employ them in the service of a prying, worldly, and superstitious
spirit. We find the first trace of this abuse in Augustin, who would have expressed
himself yet more strongly, if the use of heathen auguries—a result of mere external
conversions—had not then been so prevalent in. the Roman empire, especially in Northern
Africa. “Although,” says St. Augustin, “it is to be wished that those who seek lots
in the Gospel (qui de paginis evangelicis sortes legunt,)
should rather do this than run hither and thither to inquire of the gods; yet this
custom also displeases me, of seeking to apply the word of God which speaks of another
life, to the vanities and events of this life.” But now this abuse was practised
even by the clergy. So that in mere temporal perplexities, the priest would lay
a Bible on the altar or on the grave of a saint, and with fasting and prayer invoke
the saint that he would reveal the future by some text; and then, in the first passage
which came to hand on opening the Bible, seek the decision, (sortes
sanctorum.) Against this was directed the decree passed at the above-mentioned
council of Agde, A. D. 508, that “inasmuch as many clergymen and laymen practised
magic under the cloak of religion, or in some manner promised to throw light on
the future by searching in the Scriptures, all who either advised or taught such
things, should be excommunicated.” This was a repetition of the decree already enacted
at the council of Viennes, A. D. 466.
For a long time there had been two parties in France, which contended
on the doctrines of grace and free-will. The one (the so-called Pelagians) sought
to find a via media between the Divine and
“Man has nothing of himself but sin and lies. What man has of truth and righteousness, he has from that Fountain for which we thirst here in this wilderness; from which we are now and then refreshed with some drops, lest we should faint on the way. The branches are so joined to the vine, that they give nothing to it, but receive the sap of life from it. The vine, on the other hand, affords the sap to the branches, but receives nothing from them. It is, therefore, for the advantage of the disciples, not of Christ, that Christ should dwell in them and they in Him. For if the branches are cut off, another branch can easily shoot forth from the living root. But the branches thus cut off cannot live without the root.” But he also expressed horror against those who taught that God predestined men to evil. A beautiful testimony of a genuine Christian spirit, and clear Christian knowledge in the midst of uncivilized nations.
The faith of Cæsarius was proved by many severe trials in these
stormy times. One of his secretaries accused him falsely and craftily to Alaric,
second king of the Visigoths, of endeavouring, out of attachment to his Burgundian
fatherland, to bring Arles under the dominion of Burgundy. In the year 505, he was
torn away from his church and banished to Bordeaux. Here, also, he inspired great
reverence. The people attributed the extinction of a great fire to his prayers.
Instead of
When the Goths had gained the victory, they
After this time of affliction, Cæsarius said, in a sermon: “The
riches for which we hope, are not to be found in this world; ‘for hope that is seen,
is not hope’ (
Cæsarius was again accused to Theodoric, the Arian king of the
Ostrogoths, and in 513 he was, at his command, carried off to the royal residence
The house in which he resided was so filled with the poor and the suffering, that room could hardly be found amidst the crowd for his visitors. Such respect was felt for his person, that all the people of rank sent him gold to distribute. He was enabled to send back a multitude of captives in carriages to their families in France; and also to bring back with him a considerable sum of money (eight thousand solidi) for the poor and the captives.
Even whilst this district was in its saddest condition, impoverished
as his church was, Cæsarius never lacked means to alleviate the misery of the people;
his love, and his inexhaustible trust in God, overcame all difficulties, and brought
him through.
He would often send out his servant to see if
When once a poor man begged money of him, to ransom a captive, and he had nothing to give him, he said: “What shall I do for thee, my poor friend? What I have, give I thee.” He went into his cell, took up his episcopal state-robes, gave them to him, and said: “Go, sell that to any clergyman, and with the money set thy captive free.” His affectionate heart could never refuse to intercede for any sufferer; and people had great confidence in his prayers, so often were they granted; but he always rejected the fame of a worker of miracles.
When a mother once thanked him with tears for his prayers, to which she ascribed the recovery of her son, he told her rather to thank Him whose omnipotence and grace are always ready to help the afflicted who call on Him.
And often he would say: “He to whom the charge of souls is committed,
must take good care, that people do not rather seek bodily than spiritual help from
him [the cure of bodily sickness, rather than the cure of the maladies of the soul].
Divine
Thus bad Cæsarius laboured as a bishop forty years, and reached his seventy-third year, when he was seized with a severe illness. In the midst of great pain, he asked if Augustin’s day was still far off. And when he heard that the day was near, he said: “I trust in the Lord, that he will not suffer the day of my death to be far from his; you know how I have loved him as a teacher of the truth, great as the distance is between him and me in worth.” And he died the day before, August 27th, 542.
ABOUT the same time that Cæsarius was thus labouring in France,
Epiphanius, Bishop of Pavia, was labouring in a like spirit in Italy. He also was
a blessing for his land, convulsed by the disturbances of war, and deluged by one
barbarous tribe after another. Amidst the strife of hostile tribes, he gained equal
confidence and equal respect from the leaders of the adverse parties, and shed benefits
alike on friend and foe. When the wild hosts
THE life of this pious bishop is so much the more worthy our consideration,
on account of his having passed many years in the position of an ordinary citizen,
before he entered on the clerical office; because his life may thus afford us a
picture of the pious citizens of his time. Eligius was born at Chatelàt, a mile
from Limoges, A. D. 588. His family had been Christian for many generations, and
he received a pious education, The mind of a pious mother of those times is
expressed in the letters of the mother of Desiderius, a friend of Eligius, who lived
at the Frankish court at the same time with himself, and afterwards became Bishop
of Cahors. In the letters of Archanefreda, to her young son, Desiderius, she says:
“My dearest son,—I exhort thee always to think of the Lord, always to have God in
thy soul, and neither to do evil deeds, nor consent to them. Be loyal to the king,
and kind to thy companions; and ever love and fear God. Be carefully on thy guard
against all evil deeds, by which the Lord may be offended, lest by thy bad example
thou shouldst draw others into sin. May thy neighbours, or thine equals, have no
cause to blame thee, but may they rather, seeing thy good works, glorify the Lord!
Remember constantly, my son, what I have promised God for thee, [the parents were
then commonly the sponsors,] and walk continually in the fear of the Lord.” After
the loss of both her other sons, she wrote to him: “What would thy wretched mother
do, if thou too shouldst die? But thou, my beloved son, take heed, now that thou
hast lost thy dear brothers, that thou lose not thyself. Depart from the broad way
which leadeth to destruction, and keep thyself in the way of God. I believe grief
will put an end to my life do thou pray, that He may receive my soul, for whom love
makes me sigh night and day.” Concerning
prayer, Eustasius, abbot of Luckow, in this century, said: “The more the Lord is
sought, the more He is found. Nothing should be so important to us as diligent prayer;
for the Lord says to us through the Apostle: ‘Watch and pray, lest ye enter into
temptation.’ The Apostle also exhorts us to ‘pray without ceasing;’ the whole Scripture
tells us to call upon God; for he who neglects to call upon God, is cut off from
communion with the members of the body of Christ.” In a biography of this age, mention
is made of the imparting of that true light, which enlightens every saint who prays
for himself and for all believers in Christ. When Wandregisel, abbot of Fontanelles,
in this century, was yet a layman, he came into a village, whose inhabitants were
very ill-spoken of, and a quarrel arose amongst them which seemed likely to end
in bloodshed. He had recourse to prayer, and succeeded in restoring peace. After
that his heart began to glow, and he praised God, saying: “Surely He is to be loved
above all, who is instantly present whensoever He is called upon, as he himself
has said by the prophet, (
Eligius took great interest in the propagation of religious knowledge.
On his journeys he preached edifying sermons to the people. He founded convents,
which formed a strong contrast by their severe discipline to the degenerate Frankish
monasteries, and provided them with Bibles. The universal reverence which he inspired
by his pious life, It is related of Samson, bishop of Dot, in Bretagne,
in the sixth century, that, after having preached successfully on the 1st of January,
on a certain island, against the heathen festivities common at that time, he gathered
around him the children who were wandering about in consequence of these customs,
and whilst he kindly advised them in the name of the Lord to refrain from those
heathen superstitions in future, gave to each of them a golden coin, in order, by
this token of love, to win more favour for his exhortations in their childish minds.
Fragments of the sermons of Eligius have been preserved, from
which it may be seen how anxious he was to combat the delusion, that a mere outward
historical faith, and an outward ceremonial were enough homage to render to religion;
and to impress on men the necessity of true sanctification. “It is not enough,”
he said, “my beloved friends, to have adopted the Christian name, if you do not
bring forth Christian works; for to be called a Christian only profits him who constantly
keeps Christ’s doctrines in his heart, and manifests them in his life; who commits
no theft, bears no false witness, lies not, does not commit adultery, hates no man,
but loves all as himself; who does not render his enemies evil for evil, but rather
prays for them; who excites no strife, but rather reconciles those
Eligius also exhorts them to bring up their children, for whom
they had stood sureties to God at their baptism, in the fear of God, and to visit
those who were sick and in prison; he warns them against many kinds of heathen superstition:
not to hang amulets about the neck of man or beast, even if they were made by
a priest—even if they were said to be holy things, or to contain passages
of the Scriptures; for such things were no medicines of Christ, but poisons
of the devil. Chrysostom, Jerome, and Augustin, also speak against this superstitious
abuse, of making amulets of fragments or passages of the Gospels. We see thus how
superstition everywhere takes the same direction; because it does not come to man
from without, but issues from the abundant fountain of his corrupt heart. “No need,”
says the significant old proverb, “to paint the devil on the wall; he comes in without
being invited.” The Mohammedans in Asia and Africa, we know, sell sentences from
the Koran as amulets.
He especially counsels them to despise dreams, because, as the
Holy Scriptures say, they are vain; and he appeals to
He uses this as a motive to beneficence, that all are redeemed
by one ransom, and serve one Master. He introduces the Saviour as speaking thus
at the
“Let us,” he says, in another place, “love God above all; for it is, indeed, a crime not to love Him, to whom we can repay nothing, even if we love Him: for what can we poor sinners render unto the Lord for all He has given us? To Him who, without any merit of ours, has done such great things for us unworthy creatures? Who, to deliver us from the dreadful condemnation, came down from the throne of His Father’s majesty to us, and bore all our shame on earth.”
The affectionate disposition of Eligius, and the constant bent
of his mind towards the things of another life, are expressed in this letter of
his to his old friend Desiderius, bishop of Cahors. “Before all, I entreat thee,
as often as thou art able to lift up thy soul amidst the cares of the world to the
life of eternal rest, to bind up the remembrance of my insignificant person with
your prayers. For it is certain, that nothing in this world penetrates the heart
with such a strength of longing, as the thought
Eligius had, in the exercise of steadfast and unwearied activity,
reached his seventieth year, when he became calmly conscious of the approach of
death. One day, as he was walking about with the young clergymen who were educated
under his eye at Noyon, he remarked something out of repair in a church which they
were passing, and immediately sent for workmen to restore it. When his scholars
said to him, that it would be better to wait for a more convenient time, that the
work might be more durable, he replied: “Let it be done now, my children; if it
is not repaired now, I shall never see the restoration.” Deeply grieved by these
words, his scholars answered: “Far be that from thee; may the Lord preserve you
yet many years, for the glory of his Church and the good of the poor!” But Eligius
exhorted them to resign themselves to the will of the Lord, and said: “Be not
A slight fever was to him a sure sign of the approach of death.
He had his whole household called together, announced to them his approaching end,
and exhorted them all to live in peace and love one with another. His illness lasted
five or six days, and as he was still able to go about, leaning on a staff, he continued
active as ever. On the last day of his life,—the last day of November, 659,—he again
assembled all his household and all his young clergy, and spoke to them thus: “If
you love me, as I love you, listen to my last words. Strive continually to keep
God’s commandments; sigh continually for Jesus; let His lessons be deeply graven
on your hearts. If ye love me, love the name of Christ, as I love Him. Think always
of the uncertainty of this life; keep the judgment of God continually before your
eyes, for I go now the way of all flesh. Ye will live henceforth without me in this
world, for it pleaseth the Lord now to call me away; and I, too, long for my dissolution,
and for rest, if it please the Lord.” He then called to him, one by one, the young
men whom he had educated and trained for the clerical life, and told each of them
in what abbey he wished to be buried. It was long ere their tears or complaints
would allow him to speak; for, much as he yearned for everlasting life, and rejoiced
in the nearness of the goal, yet was he deeply moved by
To the examples already given in the previous biographies, of
the power which religion exercised over the rough and savage mind, we may add the
following. The abbot Ebrolf (Euroul) had settled with his monks in a thick forest,
infested by wild beasts and robbers. One of the robbers came to them, and, struck
with reverence at their aspect, said to them: “Ye have chosen no fit dwelling for
you here. The inhabitants of this forest live by plunder, and will not tolerate
any one amongst
Thereupon the robber went away; but the words which the excellent
abbot had spoken to him in such affectionate and penetrating tones, had left a deep
impression on his soul. The next morning, he hastened back to the monks; he brought
the abbot from his poverty three of his coarse loaves
Another Frankish abbot of this age, Lauman, (Loumon,) was surprised in his cell by robbers; but the loftiness of his aspect overcame them so much, that they fell down at his feet, embraced his knees, and cried out, “Pardon us, holy man of God.” He replied: “Why do ye ask pardon, my children ‘? wherefore are ye come hither?” They then confessed everything to him, and he gently replied: “The Lord have mercy on you, my dearest children; arise and renounce your robberies, that you may partake of the mercy of God.”
IT pleased God, to whom all his works are known from eternity,
to prepare Gregory by a twofold process, for the great and difficult work of the
guidance of the Western Church, then agitated by so many storms. Destined to be
plunged into the midst of an immense multitude of avocations of the most varied
character, he was trained to bear such a burden by administering, until his fortieth
From the calm repose of the monastic life,—for which he often
afterwards sighed,—he was next thrown into a whirl of business which left him no
rest, and was in a great measure alien to the spiritual life and calling, as he
himself complains: “For since,” he says, “as the world draws near its end, The
convulsions—which the God who killeth in order to make alive, who can call forth
new life from death, designed to be heralds of a new creation—appeared to those
who suffered from them, to betoken the end of all things.
Gregory draws vivid pictures of the devastation of the world in
that age, and avails himself of this to press on the hearts of his contemporaries
the hollowness of earthly things, and to direct their eyes to things eternal. Thus,
he says in a sermon: “Those saints on whose graves we stand, had hearts exalted
enough to despise the world in its bloom. There was then long life amongst men,
continued prosperity, rest, and peace; and yet, whilst the world was still blooming
in itself, its charm had already faded from their hearts. But now, lo! the world
itself has faded, and yet its
Italy was devastated by the Lombards, who frequently threatened
the Roman territory, and Gregory, as one of the mightiest vassals of the eastern
empire, had to take part in its defence. We may conceive what a melancholy position
it was for a man, who would gladly have lived for spiritual realities alone, to
be placed between the Lombards, eager for conquest, the governors of the eastern
empire, often neglectful of their duty, and a court full of dissensions. In addition
to all this, there was the care of the numerous lands which the Roman Church possessed
in different continents
He himself has given us a sketch of his own situation, in these
few words of a letter: “I must care at once for the bishops and the clergy, the
monasteries and the churches; must be vigilant against the snares of enemies; ever
on my guard
Yet he knew in whom he had believed. For when he says,
“What sort of a watchman am I—I, who stand not on the height of the mountains,
but still lie in the valley of weakness?” he answers himself: “But the Creator and
Redeemer of mankind is mighty; and, unworthy as I am, if, from love to Him, I spare
not myself in the preaching of His Word, he is able to bestow on me the fulness
of life, and the power of utterance.” He was able also to turn this struggle to
profit for his inner life; it became clear to him, through his own experience, how
easily a man living in the undisturbed tranquillity of contemplation, might deceive
himself about his own spiritual state; that it is only amidst temptations and conflicts
that we learn rightly to discern between the human and the Divine. He says himself:
“By contemplation man is raised to God; but by the weight of trial he is thrown
back upon himself. Trial bows down, that contemplation may not puff up; and again,
contemplation elevates, that trial may not overwhelm. By an admirable ordinance
of God, the soul is poised in a certain equilibrium; so that it may be neither unduly
exalted in prosperity, nor unduly depressed in adversity.” And he observes beautifully
on
The spiritual duties of his office were the dearest and weightiest
to him; his admonitory discourse to bishops shows how he was penetrated by the consciousness
of the greatness and responsibility of the office of spiritual pastor. “There are
but few labourers,” he complains, “for the great harvest; we cannot say it without
sorrow; for, although there is no lack of those who like to hear what is good, there
is a lack of those who can preach it. See! The world is full of priests, yet but
few labourers for God’s harvest are to be found; because, though we have indeed
assumed the priestly calling, yet we do not fulfil its duties. If any man is not
able to address the whole congregation in a connected discourse, let him instruct
individuals as far as he is able, edifying them in private conversations,
To a bishop of Messina, who wished to pay his respects to him at Rome, he wrote, wishing to avoid such empty honours: “Do not trouble yourself to come to me, but pray for us, that although we are separated from each other by the sea, we may, by Christ’s aid, through love be united to each other in spirit; that we, supporting each other by mutual admonitions, may one day resign the pastoral office intrusted to us, without reproach, into the hands of the coming Judge.”
To a bishop, whose unclerical life he censured, he wrote: “You
ought to acknowledge that you have undertaken not the care of earthly things, but
the guidance of souls. To this you must bend your heart,—on this expend your whole
solicitude, your whole diligence.” To another he wrote: “Let the word be in our
mouth and fervent zeal in our hearts, so that we may belong in truth to the number
of those of whom we read in the
It was Gregory’s strenuous endeavour to extend the study of the Scriptures among the clergy and the laity. He says in a sermon: “As we see the face of strangers and know not their hearts, until these are opened to us by confidential intercourse, —so, if only the history be regarded in the Divine word, nothing else appears to us but the outward countenance. But when, by continual intercourse, we let it pass into our being, the confidence engendered by such communion enables us to penetrate into its spirit.” “Often,” he observes elsewhere, “when we do something, we believe it to be meritorious. But if we return to the word of God, and understand its sublime teaching, we perceive how far behind perfection we stand.”
A bishop, whom Gregory advised to study the Scriptures, had excused
himself on the plea that the troubles of the times would not permit him to read.
Gregory showed him the barrenness of this excuse, referring him to
Gregory did indeed use the saying of the Lord, “Ye are .the salt
of the earth,” in too limited a sense, if he meant to restrict these words, applicable
to all Christians as such, to the doctors of the Church as successors of the apostles.
But it was far from him not to regard the vocation of labouring for the extension
and furtherance of God’s kingdom, as common to all Christians. After indicating
the high dignity of priests from
While recommending the study of Holy Scripture, he discriminates
between its false and its true use; and counsels that manner of reading the Bible
in which the regard to self-improvement should be paramount. “Those,” says he, “who
seek to fathom the mysteries of God beyond their power of comprehension, become
unfruitful by their hunger; for they seek not what can train them in humility, patience,
and long-suffering, but only what serves to show off their learning and enables
them to talk. They often speak boldly about the being of God, while they are so
unfortunate as not to know themselves. While they strive after what they cannot
comprehend, they neglect that which might have made them better men.” He shows,
however, at the same time, how every one, seeking in the right way, may find an
answer to his questions, and the satisfaction of his wants in the Holy Scriptures.
“God does not,” he says, “answer individual minds by special voices, but he has
so arranged his word as to answer all questions thereby. If we search for our particular
cases in the Scripture, we find them there. A general answer . is given therein
to us all about that which each in particular suffers. Let the life of those who
have gone before be a pattern for those who follow. To adduce one instance amongst
many: When we are seized with pain or any bodily annoyance, we wish perhaps to know
its hidden causes, finding some
Gregory, no less than the earlier ecclesiastical doctors, combated
the delusion that it is enough to confess the pure doctrines contained in the creeds,
Although Gregory was credulous about the miraculous tales of his
time, and took delight in them, yet he was far from that thirst for marvels which
forgets, in solitary instances of the miraculous, that which is the aim and centre
of all miracles. He uttered many a golden word upon the true end of miracles which
are addressed to the eye, to raise the gaze of men from the visible to the invisible,
and on the relation of all miracles to that highest miracle, the goal of them all,—the
work of God in the minds of men redeemed and sanctified by Him, the work of the
bringing forth of the new creature. In one place he speaks thus: ‘When Paul
came to Malta and saw the island full of unbelievers, he healed the father of Publius,—who
was afflicted with dysentery and fever,—by his prayer; and yet he said to Timothy,
when he was sick, only this: ‘Drink no longer water, but use a little wine for thy
stomach’s sake, and thine often infirmities.’ Why, O Paul, do you restore the sick
unbeliever through your prayer, and for so great a fellow-labourer in the preaching
of the Gospel, only prescribe natural remedies in the manner of a physician?
Gregory rejoiced in the success of the abbot Augustine, sent forth
by him for the conversion of the Anglo-Saxons, who also believed himself supported
in his work by miracles. Gregory gave thanks for the Divine grace, but held it necessary
to warn Augustine not to be unduly exalted on account of it. Such a warning was
very needful to this active missionary. There was danger lest the Divine work itself,
of which he served as the instrument, might be hindered by his want of humility.
Perhaps, if he had had more of this salt of all Christian virtue and labour, he
might have succeeded in effecting much for the confirmation and extension of the
new Church in England; even in inducing the ancient Britons, who, by their traditional
customs, and their spirit of ecclesiastical freedom, were separated from the Romish
Anglo-Saxon Church, to unite themselves into. one whole with it.
Gregory wrote him this letter, imbued with the spirit of Christian
wisdom: “Glory be to God in
“This also remains for you to do, my dearest brother: that whilst you work these things outwardly by the power of God, you judge your own heart with strictness,—remembering well what you are, and how great the grace of God towards his people, in that he enables even you to work miracles for their sakes. If you recollect to have sinned in any way against our Creator, by word or by deed, recall it continually to your thoughts, that the consideration of guilt may repress rising pride. And remember in all the signs and wonders which you have received, that they were not given to you, but to those for whose salvation they were granted. It is necessary to restrain the soul from seeking its own honour in miracles, and from becoming elated with joy at its own elevation. Nothing but the winning of souls should be sought by miracles, and the glory of Him through whose power those miracles are accomplished. The Lord has given us one sign, however, at which we may indeed rejoice, and by which we may recognise our own election, when he says: ‘By this shall every one know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another.’”
A golden counsel is this at all times, for all to whose labours the Lord gives great results, and who incur the temptations of wishing to glorify themselves in what God has done through them.
A lady who was tormented by the sense of her sins, sought consolation from Gregory, and wrote to him that she would give him no peace until he told her that he had received a special revelation that her’ sins were forgiven. Gregory wrote to her that he was unworthy to receive a special revelation, and directed her to the fountain of the compassion of the Redeemer, open to all, saying: “I know that you fervently love the Almighty God, and I confide in his mercy that these words from the lips of truth, are spoken in relation to you also, ‘Her sins, which are many, are forgiven—for she loved much.’” In a sermon, he says, concerning Christian self-knowledge: “The more holy men advance in the Divine life, the deeper insight do they gain into their own unworthiness; for when they are nearest to the light, they discover what had been hidden from them in their hearts, and their outward life appears to them so much the more odious, as that which they see within appears more beautiful. For every one is revealed to himself when he becomes enlightened by contact with the true light; in learning what holiness is, he also learns what guilt is.”
But he also warned men against that false humility, which nourishes
vanity by that which is the most contrary to all vanity and pride. “We know
Of the nature of self-denial, he says: “It is not enough to renounce our possessions, if we do not renounce ourselves. Whither then should we flee from ourselves? We should renounce ourselves in that which sin has made us, and remain ourselves in that which we have become through grace.” And in reference to this, he says elsewhere: “The more holiness daily grows in us through the Spirit of God, the more does our selfish nature decrease. We attain to a perfect stature in God, when we renounce ourselves entirely.”
Gregory always deprecated the externalizing and isolating of virtues
and good works; pointing out, that there is a close connexion between all that is
really good,—that love is the soul of all good, without which nothing has
any value. “Purity, soberness, distributing our property amongst the poor, are nothing,
he says, without love. Satan trembles to see in us that true lowly love which we
bear to one another; he grudges us this harmony; for we thus display that which
he himself was not able to. retain. Evil spirits fear the multitude of the elect,
“In order to show mercy to the needy,” he says, “two things are
requisite: a man to give, and a thing to be given. But the man is incomparably better
than the thing. Thus, he who gives of his substance to his famishing neighbour,
but does not guard his life from the evil one, gives his goods to God, and himself
to sin. He has offered the meaner thing to his Creator, and preserved the nobler
for the evil one. Then only is any sacrifice acceptable to God when the branches
of piety spring from the root of righteousness.” He terms love the compensating
principle in all diversities of gifts among men, both corporeal and intellectual,
because thereby the gifts peculiar to each are made common to all. In speaking of
the diversities of gifts among the Apostles, who were appointed to supply and complete,
he says: “The Almighty God deals with the souls of men as with the different countries
of the earth. For He might have bestowed all productions on every country; but if
every land did not need those of others, there would have been no intercourse between
them. Therefore, He gave to one a superabundance of wine; to another, of oil; to
one, great numbers of cattle; to another, richness of vegetable productions; so
that, by each supplying what the other wants, the several lands become united by
an interchange of gifts. As the
Of true prayer: “We see, dearest brethren,” says Gregory, “in what great numbers you have assembled at this festival; how you bow your knees, beat your breasts, utter words of prayer and confessions of sins, wet your faces with tears. But test, I beseech you, the quality of your prayers; search whether you pray in the name of Jesus, that is, whether you ask for the joys of eternal salvation, for in the house of Jesus ye seek not Jesus, if, in the very temple of eternity, you pray in an inordinate way for what is temporal. One prays for a wife, another for an estate, another for a maintenance. We may, indeed, when we want such things, pray to the Almighty God for them, but we must at the same time remember what our Saviour has commanded us: ‘Seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things shall be added unto you.’”
And in another place: “True prayer consists not
Of the manifold modes in which the Holy Spirit draws men to himself
and trains them, he says: “Sometimes God awakens us to repentance by love, sometimes
by fear. Sometimes He shows the nothingness of the present, and directs our desires
to the love of the eternal; sometimes He reveals eternal things to us first, that
the temporal may appear as nothing in their light. Sometimes He represents to us
our own sinfulness, thus softening us into compassion for the sins of others. Sometimes
He
A man who so well appreciated the nature of Christianity, as intended
to influence the inward being of man, would necessarily understand that men, in
order to lead their brethren to repentance, can only bring this Divine power near
to their hearts by their life and doctrine, and that the work which the Lord alone
can accomplish by His Spirit, cannot be enforced by human contrivance or power.
And we find in his writings many beautiful observations on this point, although
he was sometimes carried away by untempered zeal, and did not al: ways faithfully
act up to the opinions here laid down. He emphatically declares his disapprobation
of those blind zealots who forcibly compelled the Jews in Italy to be baptized,
or disturbed them in the free exercise of their religion. He wrote to a bishop of
Naples: “Those who sincerely seek to guide the unbelieving to the true faith, must
try to effect their purpose in a friendly, and not in a violent manner, lest the
souls which might have been won by a patient exposition of doctrine, should be repelled
by hostility. Those who act otherwise, and under the cloak of zeal seek to hinder
them in their wonted religious observances, show that they ate seeking their own
things rather than the things of God. Why do we prescribe to the Jews rules for
their Divine service if we cannot thereby win them? We should endeavour rather to
draw them
THE working of Christianity is not less seen in small than in
great things. It needs no grand or public theatre in order to display itself. It
is the light that, wherever it may be, cannot remain hidden under the bushel. Indeed,
what Christianity is, is best seen in this, that it fills with heavenly glory vessels
despised or esteemed as nothing in the eyes of men—a glory which far outshines all
earthly splendours; that it pours into them the powers of the world to come, beside
which all the powers of the earth are nothing. In all ages, that which the apostle
Paul so nobly expresses in
A large portion of these operations of Christianity remains, indeed, hidden from the eyes of the greater portion of mankind, and cannot, therefore, find a place in the pages of history. So much the more unwise, therefore, is it to judge of the effect of Christianity in any age, by what floats on the surface; and so much the more important is it for the historian to search everywhere in the midst of the darkness for these scattered beams of light, and by the side of a man whom God set on so high a place, and to whom he intrusted so broad and manifold a sphere of activity as Gregory, to introduce one who, in the meanest station of this world, in the neediest and most helpless condition, yet manifested the glory of the Divine life.
We should know nothing of the life of this child of God, if the great bishop (Gregory) had, like the world, suffered himself to be so dazzled by appearances, as not to perceive the treasure in the earthen vessel. We will listen to the bishop himself, as he describes to us the life of this man.
“In the vault through which we enter the church of Clermont, lived
a certain Servulus, whom many among you know, as I know him, poor in earthly goods,
rich in God, worn out by a long illness; for, from his childhood until the end of
his life, he lay paralyzed in all his limbs. Did I say he could not stand? He could
not even raise himself so as to
Gregory appended to this narrative these words of exhortation
to his Church: “Behold the end of him, who bore the sufferings of this life with
resignation! But I beseech you, my dearest brethren, think what excuse shall we
be able to offer at the day of judgment, who, although we have received goods and
hands, are slothful in good works, whilst this poor man, who had not the use of
his hands, could, nevertheless, fulfil the commandments of the Lord? Even if the
Lord should not lead forth against us the Apostles, who drew hosts of believers
Let us compare with this Servulus—whose life in that maimed and helpless body was not spent in vain, who did more for the glory of his God and the good of his brother men, than others who lived in. the splendour of the world, and in great activity—those noble Romans, of whom the younger Pliny speaks, who, in long and desperate sickness, with the stoic composure of the wise of this world, put an end to their lives with their own hands. We will not condemn the noble spirits to whom the grace of knowing the Gospel was not vouchsafed. But in which of the two do we find the true dignity of man, that true elevation which is founded in humility, and on that very account, can never be cast down or robbed of its crown?
THE operations of Christianity are always radically the same, because they flow from its essential character, and its relations to human nature; yet it makes some difference whether it is received amongst nations to whom it was previously quite unknown, either plunged in barbarism or endowed with a certain degree of civilization, proceeding from some other form of religion, or whether it attaches itself to an already existing Christian tradition. In the latter case, it will indeed have to combat the same reactions of the nature of the old man, which, whilst they manifest themselves undisguisedly amongst nations to which Christianity is quite strange, are yet also to be met with under a Christian disguise where a Christian tradition is found. And even with those nations amongst which Christianity is now received, a class of men may ever be found who, in their condition of barbarous recklessness, have remained almost totally estranged from its influence, and in reference to whom our missionary, activity is still needed, so that the distinction between home and foreign missions is in this respect just.
In foreign missions, we should distinguish between the different conditions of the nations to which these missionary labours are directed, whether they are quite uncivilized, or whether they already possess a certain indigenous civilization. The principle of Christianity must always manifest itself as a reforming principle; whether it becomes to savage nations—by being engrafted into the wild stock of the natural man—the germ of all the human training needed by them,—or whether it introduces a new spirit into an already existing civilization. In this latter case, Christianity will find a point of contact in the previous national culture, but must purify, enlighten, and reanimate it, by that higher spirit of life which is lacking in all which is not born of the Spirit. In the former case, it will itself first communicate to the wild stock of human nature, the impulse and the energy for all kinds of civilization, corresponding to the individual characteristics of each nation. The latter operation we have seen in the first appearance of Christianity; the former is exhibited amongst the nations of Germanic descent, in which Christianity prepared the way for the whole of the characteristic civilization of the Middle Ages.
Whilst, among the ancients, the existing opposition between nations
seemed invincible, and civilization was deemed to be the privilege only of certain
tribes,—Christianity, on the other hand, distinguishes between that which is founded
in the original nature of man as it came from the hand of
Athanasius speaks of this operation of Christianity, at the time
when this new creation first began to manifest itself amongst those tribes of Germanic
descent which had been brought by war into contact with the Roman empire. “Who amongst
men,” he said, “would ever have been able to conquer so large a portion of the earth;
to penetrate amongst the Scythians, Ethiopians, Persians, Armenians, and Goths,
who dwell beyond the ocean, and preach to them of the vanity of their idols, of
virtue and purity of morals—who but our Lord Jesus Christ, ‘the power of God;’ He
who not only proclaimed salvation through his disciples, but was also able to move
the minds of men amongst those nations to lay aside their barbarous customs, no
more to honour their national gods, but through Him, to honour the Father. For in
ancient times,
Jerome also, in his time, when men of the nation of the Goths,
who were regarded by the Greeks and Romans as barbarians incapable of civilization,
laid questions before him about the interpretation of Scripture, and a zeal for
the study of the Scriptures was diffused amongst these wild tribes, (as we now see
a similar zeal amongst the Australian tribes, in whom Christianity has produced
a germ of civilization,) sees in this fact with Athanasius a fulfilment of this
promise in Isaiah: “Who would have believed that the barbarous tongue of the Goth
should search the primitive Hebrew Scriptures, and that, whilst the Greeks sleep,
or quarrel with one another, Germany should seek to fathom the Word of God. Now
I experience the truth, ‘that God is no respecter of persons:’ but in every nation
he who feareth Him and worketh righteousness is accepted. of Him
As such results could only flow from Christianity, so through Christianity alone could the impulse and the power be given to carry Divine light to savage nations. What was it that impelled men to leave their country and their kindred, in order to expose themselves to all kinds of difficulties and perils amongst savage nations? It was the sense of the love of the Redeemer, which constrained him to exchange his glory for the wretchedness of men, and to yield himself up to death for sinners. The sense of this love constrained them to show similar love to their brethren who were still estranged from God, and to risk all in order to impart to others that salvation in which they partook only by grace.
It is precisely because Christianity works from within to mould
the savage nature in all its parts—because therefore it did not give anything ready-made
to the nations, but imparted to them the first germ of Divine life, from which all
must develop itself freely and therefore gradually, that it bad long to contend
with the barbarism which it was thoroughly to overcome. In the frequently vain complaints
of the barbarism of certain ages of the Church, it is forgotten that the true dignity
of man does not consist in the harmonious development of all the spiritual and moral
faculties of his nature, but in the reception of that Divine life into the
We must, moreover, not forget that the rude Northern races were to diffuse their barbarism over the visible Church, in order in their turn to be remoulded by it, a result which, in consequence of the freedom of man, could only be attained in this way.
Christianity can indeed be propagated in a few generally comprehensible doctrines, which are preserved by the power of God in the minds of men. These doctrines, as is shown by the experience of recent times amongst Hottentots, Greenlanders, and Negroes, as also by the experience of earlier ages, are such as to find access even amongst those deficient of all kind of civilization; for everywhere there lies hidden in man something akin to God, which can only be awakened to consciousness by the revelation of its source,—can only be released from its veil of corruption by the breath from above. Ire-wens was able to appeal to the fact, that without paper and ink, the doctrine of salvation could be written by the Holy Spirit on the hearts of those who were unacquainted with letters, and could not have received any doctrine in writing.
But experience also teaches that Divine truth has never been able
to propagate itself continuously, when the written records have not been added to
the oral preaching; those records from which every age and every individual may
draw afresh the living truth in its purity, and appropriate it in its characteristic
and applicable form. By the propagation of these records, the Divine contents could
be preserved from all falsifications; or, if these had arisen could be purged from
them. Certainly all which has proceeded from the operations of pure and genuine
Christianity, all which in all ages has been thought, and purposed, and done, and
instituted in the true Christian spirit,—is inwardly linked
And the experience of all ages teaches us further, that Christianity
has only attained a firm and living growth, when, according to its essential tendency,
if working vitally, it bears with it the germ of all human civilization, however
gradually this See Luther’s Briefe herausgegeben von Dr. de Wette,
B. II.
When the Christian Church was founded in England amongst the Anglo-Saxons,
many of all ranks were seized with such a thirst for knowledge, that they visited
the cells of the Irish monks, who shared with them in Christian love their spiritual
and temporal goods, giving them daily maintenance, books, and instruction without
recompense. In the second half of the seventh century, an admirable old man, Theodore
of Cilicia, who brought sciences with him from Greece, made a progress through all
England, as Archbishop of Canterbury, with his friend Abbot Hadrian, and sought
to gather scholars around him. The instructions which were
The last days of this man, who is a model of a true Christian
teacher, and met his death as he was exercising his calling amongst his devotedly
attached pupils, is described to us by Cuthbert, who was one of them. He mentions
how Bede passed the last weeks of his life in a sickness, which brought him to the
grave, A. D. 735, in his sixty-third year. We will let the scholar himself speak:
“He lived joyfully, giving thanks to God day and night, yea, at all hours, until
the Feast of the Ascension; every day he gave lessons to us, his pupils, and the
rest of his time he occupied himself in chanting psalms. He was awake almost the
whole night, and spent it in joy and thanksgiving; and when he awoke from his short
sleep, immediately he raised his hands on high, and began again to give thanks.
He sang the words of the Apostle Paul: ‘It is a dreadful thing to fall into the
hands of the living God.’ He sang much besides from the Holy Scriptures, and also
many Anglo-Saxon hymns. He sang antiphons according to our and
“On the Tuesday before Ascension Day, his sickness increased,
his breathing became difficult, and his feet began to swell. Yet he passed the whole
day joyfully, dictating. At times he would say: ‘Make haste to learn, for I do not
know how long I shall remain with you, whether my Creator will not soon take me
to himself.’ The following night he spent in prayers of thanksgiving. And
We have already spoken of the various modes of conversion: whether effected in a purely spiritual way, proceeding from within outwards, by an impression on the inward nature; or whether men, in whom the needs of the higher life were not yet felt, were led from the corporeal to the spiritual, from the outward to the inward, from the earthly to the Divine. As regards the latter, great results were often prepared by trifling circumstances, which, nevertheless, gained a peculiar significance by a certain concatenation of events,—results which, without such a concatenation, without this connexion with other operations of a higher nature, could not have ensued. How important was the great draught of fishes in leading the apostle Peter to Christ! and thus, also, the earlier and later history of missions, teaches how, by trifling outward events, much was often done towards the conversion of individuals and of nations. It made, indeed, a great difference, whether the outward impulse led to a true inward conversion, or whether the result remained merely external.
Clovis, the pagan king of the Franks, was destitute of all special
interest in religious subjects; he lived after the customs of his fathers, without
troubling himself about religion. His gods were only known to him as mighty beings,
whom he feared, and whose help he sought to win in his wars. Looking at religion
from this point of view, the misfortunes
It was in reference to this, that Nicetius, bishop of Treves, wrote thus in the year 561, to Chlodeswinde, queen of the Lombards, the granddaughter of Clotilda: “You have heard from your grandmother Clotilda, how, after her arrival in France, she converted king Clovis to Christianity, and as he was a man of great acuteness, he would not rest until he ascertained the truth of these miraculous cures. As soon, however, as he recognised the truth of what had been related to him, he bowed himself down humbly on the grave of Martin, and was immediately baptized.”
But it was another circumstance which gave the first impulse to the wavering mind of Clovis. In the battle of Zulpich, against the Alemanni, A. D. 486, his army had become entangled in a perilous situation; in vain had he called on his gods for help. Then he; turned to the God of the Christian, called on him for aid, if he were indeed Almighty, and vowing to become a Christian. His victory was to him a proof of the might of the God of the Christians, as, formerly to Constantine, his victory over Maxentius and Licimus. Remigius, bishop of Rheims, whom he now sent for, was easily able to find access to a mind already so prepared. As he related to him the history of the Passion of our Lord, the king exclaimed: “If I had been there with my Franks, I would soon have chastised those Jews.”
Such outward providences and impressions might often, in leading the heathen to recognise Christ as a mighty Being, prepare them also to receive Him as the Redeemer from the misery of sin; and whilst at first they only learned to place Him as a new god beside their old gods, they might at length learn to know him as the only true God, and the Almighty Creator.
Anschar, the apostle of the North, who was sustained by. no earthly
power in the preaching of the Gospel, often experienced the help of God in difficult
situations, by means of outward circumstances, which made a powerful impression
on the heathen. When, in 823, he had undertaken his second missionary
Whilst Otho, bishop of Bamberg, the apostle of the Pomeranians,
was labouring in 1124, for the first time, towards the foundation of the Christian
Church in Stettin, he succeeded in converting and baptizing a man of high rank in
the nation, called Witstock. Although his knowledge of Christianity was as yet by
no means pure, this man had nevertheless a firm and strong faith. The image of the
When afterwards the bishop reappeared amongst the people of Stettin,
who had for the most part
In this assembly one of the nobles arose and said: “It seems to
me to be, in this earthly life of ours, with regard to what is uncertain to us,
just as if, when ye were sitting at table in winter with your officers and servants
in the well-warmed hall, whilst wind and snow were raging outside, a sparrow came
and flew swiftly through, from one opening
Bishop Paulinus, who was present at the assembly, was then asked to make a statement of the Christian doctrine, and the chief-priest himself declared afterwards: “Long already have I known that what we have worshipped is nothing, since the more zealously I sought for truth in that religion, the less I found it. Now, however, I confess openly that the truth, which is able to confer on us the gift of life, salvation, and eternal happiness, has been made manifest to me in this discourse.”
And when the question was proposed, who would be the first to commence the destruction of the temples and altars of the idols, this priest offered himself for the service. “For,” said he, “who is better fitted than I to destroy that which in my foolishness I worshipped, now that wisdom is given me from the true God?”
As a contrast also to Clovis and Constantine, may be adduced Pomare, the first Christian king of Tahiti, as he is described by the English missionaries.
THIS remarkable man was prepared by very peculiar circumstances for his important work; and in his instance also it may be seen, how that infinite wisdom which guides the development of the kingdom of God amongst men, is able to bring great things out of what seems insignificant to the eyes of men.
Patrick, called in his native tongue Succath, was born A. D. 372,
in a village between the Scottish towns of Dumbarton and Glasgow, (then appended
to England,) in the village of Bonaven, since named in honour of him Kilpatrick.
He was the son of a poor unlettered deacon of the village church. No particular
care was bestowed on his education, and he lived on light-heartedly from day to
day, without making the religious truths taught him by his parents matters of personal
interest, until his seventeenth year. Then it happened that he was awakened by a
severe chastisement from his heavenly Father from this sleep of death to a higher
life. Some pirates of the wild tribe of the Scots, who then inhabited Ireland, landed
at the dwelling-place of Patrick, and carried him off with other captives. He was
sold into slavery to a Scottish prince, who committed to him the care of his flocks
and herds. Necessity directed his heart to that God, of whom in his days of rest
in his father’s
After he had passed six years in the service of this prince, he
thought he heard a voice in his sleep which promised him a speedy return to his
native land, and soon afterwards announced to him that a ship was already prepared
to take him. In reliance on this call, he set out, and after a journey of many days,
he found a ship about to set sail. But the captain would not at first receive the
poor unknown youth. Patrick fell on his knees and prayed. He had not finished his
prayer before one of the ship’s company called him back, and offered him a passage.
After a wearisome voyage, in which he experienced from the grace which guided him
many a deliverance from great peril, and many a memorable answer to prayer, he arrived
once more amongst his people. Many years after this, he was again carried off by
pirates. But in sixteen days, by the special guidance of Providence, he regained
his freedom, and again returned, after many fresh perils and fatigues, to his people.
Great was the joy of his parents to see their son
As the Almighty Shepherd of souls does not draw all to Himself
by the same means, nor guide and nourish them alike, but on the contrary reveals
and communicates himself to them in divers manners, according to his various purposes
for them and their various wants, it pleased Him to grant Patrick, by many manifestations
of His grace, the pledge of the certainty of his fellowship with Himself, and of
his call to preach the Gospel in Ireland. His parents and friends sought to hold
him back, representing to him that such an undertaking far exceeded his capacity.
He himself informs us of this when he says, “Many dissuaded me from this journey,
and said behind my back, ‘Why does this man throw himself into danger amongst the
heathen who do not know the Lord?’ It was not said maliciously, but they could not
comprehend the thing on account of my rustic life and manners.” But nothing could
mislead him, for he trusted in the power of the Lord, who imparted to him the inward
confidence that He had called him, and was with him. He himself says of this, “Whence
came to me so great and blessed a gift, that I should know and love God, and be
able to forsake my country and my kindred, although large gifts were offered me
with many tears if I would remain?
Patrick accordingly went to Ireland in the year 431. He could now make use of his early proficiency in the Irish language. He gathered great multitudes of the people together in the open air by beat of drum, to tell them of the sufferings of the Saviour for sinful men; and the doctrine of the Cross manifested its characteristic power over many hearts.
Patrick met indeed with much opposition; the priests and national bards, who possessed great influence, excited the people against him, and he had to endure many a hot persecution. But he overcame by his steadfastness in the faith, by his fervent zeal, and by a love which drew all hearts to itself. The following incident furnishes us with a beautiful example of the power which he exercised over the heart.
He was once in a family of rank, whose members he baptized. The
son of the house conceived such an affection for Patrick, that he resolved, in spite The apostle Paul says:—”God hath not left himself without
witness in any nation; He is not far from every one of us; for in him we live, and
move, and have our being.” He says of men in general: “Because that which may be
known of God is manifest in them, for God hath showed it unto them; for the invisible
things of Him, (His invisible essence,) that is, his eternal power and Godhead,
are clearly seen, being understood by the things that are made, namely, by the creation
of the world.” In the midst of the reign of the darkest idolatry, there were always
men who felt its vanity, and raised themselves to a belief in one Almighty God.
Doubtless, this general belief without a more accurate and assured knowledge of
the relation of God to men, without the doctrine of a Redeemer, was by no means
enough to satisfy the religious and moral wants of men. There is a wide difference
between a belief in a hidden God, dwelling in a light which no man can approach
unto, whom no man hath seen, nor can see, and the knowledge of God, as the only
begotten Son, who is in the bosom of the Father, hath declared him unto us. Yet
that belief may serve as a preparation for this knowledge, as has frequently been
the case. Thus, in the latter part of the fourth century, Cormac, a great Irish
prince, after abdicating his government, and devoting himself in solitude to quiet
meditation and religious contemplation, had attained to this faith, and to a conviction
of the vanity of the idolatrous system of his Druidical priests, and no re.. presentations
or arts of the Druids could win him back to it. The definite way in which this is
related, is a presumption in favour of the truth of the story; and, indeed, the
Christian monks and priests of later times could hardly have had any temptation
to invent such a thing.
Patrick took the part of the servants who had suffered hard usage
from their masters. When he found youths of the lower ranks, who seemed to him fitted
for a higher calling, he provided for their education, and trained them to be teachers
of the people. We have shown in another volume how Christianity, although it
might suffer for a while the outward continuance of slavery, (contradictory as that
institution was to that universal dignity of man which it brought to light,) nevertheless
gradually brought about a total remodelling of this relation in spirit and character.
So, also, in these times Christianity led to the recognition of the equal human
dignity of those whom fate had placed in that relation to others as their lords,
in which no man should ever stand to another,—of that common image of God, and the
higher destiny arising from it, to accomplish which in all, the Son of God appeared
in His flesh, and gave His life. It was often the habit of the missionaries to buy
heathen slaves, especially boys, and educate them as missionaries for their countrymen.
Thus Gregory the Great caused Anglo-Saxon slaves to be bought by the administrators
of the Church property in Gaul; and thus also did Amandus, bishop of Maestricht,
preacher of the Gospel in the Netherlands in the seventh century, of whom it is
related: “When he met with captives or slaves who had come across the sea, he baptized
them, had them well educated, and after having given them their freedom, divided
them among different churches; and of many of these we have afterwards heard that
they have become bishops, priests, or abbots.” Bonitus, (Bonet,) bishop of Clermont
in the seventh century, when he was governor of Provence, would sentence no one
to slavery, but ransomed all whom he could find, who had been sold into slavery,
and restored them to their own people. It also contributed to place this class of men in a more favourable
light amongst the Frankish nation; that the bishops (often indeed moved by selfish
interests) received people of this condition into the clergy. When, in the middle
of the eighth century, Chrodegang, bishop of Metz, declared himself against the
consecration of none but slaves to the priesthood, from bad motives, he added, to
prevent a depreciation of people of that station, that “he would by no means exclude
from the clerical office slaves of respectable character, since there is no respect
of persons with God.”
After speaking in one of his letters
of such marvels as God granted him to perform amongst the barbarous people, he added:
“But I conjure all, let no one, on account of these or the like things, think to
place me on an equality with the apostles and other perfect men, for I am an insignificant,
sinful, and despicable man.” And more marvellous still to him was the simple fact
which filled his
Patrick endeavoured to avoid all appearance of seeking his own
gain or glory. A man who, according Compare with this
the beautiful words of Levinius, (preacher of the Gospel in Brabant in the seventh
century, who died as a martyr:) “Brabant is thirsting for my death. How have I sinned
against thee, in bringing thee the tidings of peace? It is peace that I bring thee;
why dost thou threaten me with war? But thy rage brings me a glorious victory—will
obtain for me the martyr’s crown. I know in whom I have believed, and my hope shall
not be ashamed. God is the surety. Who can doubt?”
Patrick would gladly, after the absence and labours of many years, have once more visited his relations and his old friends in his native Britain and in Gaul, but he sacrificed his inclination to the higher calling. “I would gladly,” he says, “have journeyed to my fatherland and my parents, and also once more have visited my brethren in Gaul, that I might have seen again the countenances of the saints of my Lord; God knows I longed for it much, but I am restrained by the Spirit, who witnesseth to me, that if I do this, He will hold me guilty, and I fear lest the work I have commenced should fall to the ground.”
THE wild districts of Ireland were occupied with convents, after
the example of Patrick, and cultivated by the hard labour of the monks. The Irish
convents were distinguished by their strict Christian discipline, their diligence
and their zeal in the study of the Scriptures, and of science in general, as far
as they had the means of acquiring it. Irish monks brought learning from Britain
and Gaul, they treasured up this learning and elaborated it in the solitude of the
convent, and they are said to have brought back these germs of science, together
with a living Christianity, to those regions from which they had first received
them, but
The most distinguished amongst the Irish convents was Bankor, founded by abbot Comgall, who had three thousand monks under his control; it was especially a training school for missionaries and teachers of the rude tribes around. From this school issued, in the latter part of the sixth century, an Irishman, named Columban. When he had reached the age of thirty years, he felt himself constrained to go forth to preach the Gospel, and introduce Christian education amongst the rude tribes. He himself says, in a letter written after the persecutions in France, “It was my wish to visit the heathen tribes, and to proclaim to them the Gospel.”
His scholar and biographer, Jonas, expresses this thus: “He began
to long for a pilgrim life, mindful of that command of the Lord, Depart from thy
country, and thy kindred, and thy father’s house, and go into the land that I shall
show thee.’ God bestowed on father Columban that fervour of heart, that longing
enkindled by the fire of the Lord, of which He saith, ‘I am come to enkindle a fire
upon earth.’ Columban himself says of this holy fire of love, ‘O that God,—since,
petty as I am, I am his servant,—O that God would so arouse me out of the sleep
of sloth, that he would deign so to enkindle in me the fire of Divine love, that
this Divine flame may constantly burn in me! O that I had the fuel with which perpetually
to feed
After having obtained permission from the abbot, Columban repaired,
in the year 590, to France, with twelve youths, who were being trained under his
direction for the clerical life. Barbarism was fast spreading at that time in France,
in consequence
Columban united great outward power and activity with a heart
disposed to religious contemplation and rejoicing in inward quiet; and the fact
that both these things could be so blended in him, as in many other pious men of
that age, is a proof of their Christian simplicity, and of a mind firmly resting
on God. He frequently went deep into the forest, with his Bible on his shoulder,
read as he went, and meditated on what he read, or seated himself on a hollow trunk
with the Bible in his hand. On Sundays and other feast days, he retired into caves
or other lonely places, and gave
The respect felt for Columban caused men of all classes to repair to him and entrust themselves to his guidance, or commit their sons to his training. The number of the monks became so large that one convent would no longer suffice, and two others were founded, both in solitary places,—one at Luxen, and one at Fontaines.
Columban regarded self-denial, and the entire yielding up of the
will to God, as the highest object, and to effect this in those who were committed
to his guidance was the aim of all his conventual arrangements. In his instructions
to his monks, he says many excellent things about this highest aim of self-ennobling,
this main point in Christian sanctification, this “one thing needful.” “He tramples
on the world who overcomes himself; no one who spares himself can hate the world.
In our own souls alone do we hate or love the world,” And in another instruction:
“We must willingly resign for Christ’s sake, all that we love besides Christ. Firstly,
if it is necessary, our natural life must be yielded up to the martyr’s death for
Christ. Or, if the opportunity of such blessedness fails, the crucifixion of the
will must not be lacking, so that those who thus live, may no longer live unto themselves,
but unto Him who died for them. Let us therefore live unto Him, who although He
died for us is our life; let us die to ourselves, in order to live unto Christ.
For we
Although the genuine spirit of Christian self-denial—that self-denial
which is linked with love—is here evidenced, nevertheless this spirit did not display
itself unmixedly in the conventual rules which Columban instituted. Even though
love ruled in his heart, and he sought to train his monks to a free love of the
children of God, they were subjected to a strict legal discipline. They were to
exercise self-denial in the entire annihilation of
Columban, in his monastic rules, encourages his
It was always a perilous thing to seek to break the will of man
by the stern discipline which monasticism employed for this will can only be truly
subjected and remoulded by the inward power of Divine love, through which, renouncing
itself in its own personality, it regains itself in a higher
What Anselm of Canterbury said towards the close of the eleventh
century, against this severe monastic discipline, is excellent. An abbot complained
to him, in the course of conversation, of the incorrigible youths under his charge,
who were not to be improved by any amount of beating. Anselm replied, “You never
cease beating these boys,—what sort of men then do they make when they grow up?”
“Stupid, brutish men,” answered the
“You compel them?” answered Anselm, “tell me, my dear abbot, if you were to plant a tree in your garden, and inclose it tightly on all sides, so that it could not shoot forth a branch on any side, and after some years were to set it free, what kind of a plant would it have become? Doubtless, a useless tree, with crooked, intertwisted branches. And whose fault would it be but yours, for having unduly restrained its growth?”
In order, however, to judge Columban justly, we must not forget in what circumstances he lived, what men he had to mould, and what difficulties to contend with. Bands of rude men had to be governed, rescued from the prevailing barbarism and lawlessness, and trained to industry, endurance of difficulties, and privations of all sorts, and as the highest aim, to be led to a truly spiritual life, a life of self-renunciation and consecration to God. He himself says in a letter, “We must attain to the city of God in the right way, by mortification of the flesh, contrition of heart, bodily labour, and humiliation of spirit, by our own efforts, (doing in this only what it is our duty to do, not as if we could merit anything,) and what is above all, by the grace of Christ, by faith, and hope, and love.”
In the monastic rules of Columban it is written: “Let the monk live in the convent under the control of a father, and in fellowship with many, that from the one he may learn humility, from the others patience,—from the one silent obedience, from the others gentleness; let him not do his own will—let him eat what is commanded him, let him take as much as he is given, let him accomplish his daily task. Let him retire weary to his bed, let him sleep slightly, and before he has slept out his sleep, let him be compelled to arise. Let him fear the superior of the convent as a master, and love him as a father.”
In spite of all this stern discipline, there was a spirit of fatherly
love about the abbot, which, as we see from his life, knit many hearts to him. But
he always kept it in view, so to train the monks, that this precise order should
not be to them anything dead and mechanical, or become an intolerable burden, but
that it should grow natural to them, that everything should be made easy by the
spirit of love and self-sacrifice. “If the monks learn the lowliness of Christ,
the yoke will become easy to them, and the burden light. Lowliness of heart is the
rest of a soul wearied out by conflict with its corrupt inclinations, and by its
inward sufferings; this is its only refuge from such manifold evils, and the more
it withdraws to this contemplation from restless distraction amongst vain and external
things, the more it rests, and is inwardly refreshed, so that the bitter becomes
sweet, and what
Columban’s instructions to the monks show an endeavour to bring
Divine things home to their hearts , and when we see how easily those who have to
extract their food from the soil by hard daily labour, forget, beneath the weight
of daily heavy toil and earthly cares, the higher concerns of the spirit and the
heart,—cleaving to the dust, so much the more praiseworthy does that man appear,
who, in the very midst of the conflict with savage nature, endeavoured by the power
of Christianity to train men to make the highest interests of the inner man the
chief concerns for themselves and others; nay, who even sought to use this daily
conflict as an exercise of self-denial, of devotion to God, and unconditional trust
in Him. Columban once saw, after the foundation of the abbey of Fontaines, sixty
men laboriously loosening the soil with their mattocks, to prepare it for the future
crop, whilst a very small stock of provisions remained in the magazine of the convent
to satisfy their hunger and thirst during such hard labour. How much does this imply!
Here we see the power of that faith which could remove mountains. Others would have
lost all heart and strength amidst such great difficulties and with such dark prospects,
but Columban’s faith inspired courage and strength in those under his control. The
monks were to prove that faith multiplies what we have, and can create means when
they fail, because
Some passages from the instructions of Columban to his monks may
exhibit to us his profoundly Christian spirit, and his endeavour to awaken the like
in them. Whilst he condemns idle subtilties about the Trinity, he says: “Who can
speak of the essence of God—how He is everywhere present and invisible, or how He
fills heaven and earth and all creatures, according to those words, ‘Am I not He
who filleth heaven and earth,’
Of love as the soul of the Christian life he says: “What has the law of God prescribed more carefully, more frequently, than love? And yet you seldom find any one who really loves. What have we to say in excuse? Can we say, it is something painful and hard? Love is no labour; it is, on the contrary, a sweet, and wholesome, and healing thing to the heart. Unless the soul is diseased within, its health is love. He who fulfilleth the law with the zeal of love hath eternal life. As John says, ‘We know that we have passed from death unto life because we love the brethren. He who loveth not his brother abideth in death. He who hateth his brother is a murderer, and ye know that no murderer hath eternal life abiding in him.’ We must, therefore, do nothing but love, or we have nothing to expect but punishment. May our gracious Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, our God, the Creator of peace and love, inspire us with this love, which is the fulfilling of the law!”
In his little poems, also containing exhortations and lessons
to his disciples and friends, Columban
With Christian candour, submitting to no human authority in matters
of religion, he wrote to Gregory the Great, bishop of Rome. He entreated him not
to suffer himself to be fettered by the opinions of former bishops of Rome, but
freely to test both sides, and to adopt whichever he approved. “In such matters,”
he wrote, “you must not abandon yourself to your humility, or consult the dignity
of persons, which often deceives. A living dog is perhaps better in such inquiries
than a dead lion. (
He said justly, (a word well to be remembered in all divisions,)
that if all the children of God were only first united by the fellowship of love
and the unity of evangelical convictions, all strife would easily be adjusted. “Difference
of manners and customs has, indeed, been very injurious to the peace of the Church;
but if we only hasten to extract the poison of pride, envy, and the pursuit of vain
glory, by the exercise of true humility, according to the teaching and example of
our Lord, who says, ‘Learn of me, for I am meek and lowly in heart,’ as disciples
of our Lord Jesus Christ, we shall mutually love one another with our whole heart;
for the lowly cannot strive, since the truth will soon be recognised by those
who, with the same purpose and the same desire to know the truth, seek what is best—where
only error is vanquished, and no man glories in himself, but in the Lord.” He concludes
the letter with these words: “Since we should love one another with love unfeigned,
let us diligently consider the commandments of our Lord Jesus Christ., and if we
understand them, strive to fulfil them, in order that, through His teaching, the
whole Church, in a glow of holy zeal, may set her affections on things above. May
His unmerited grace grant us this—to fly the world and love Him alone, to seek Him
with the Father and the Holy Ghost! For the rest, O fathers! pray ye for us, as
we, insignificant as we
An attack from another quarter had important results for Columban.
He was held in high honour by Theodoric II., king of Burgundy, in which country
his abbeys lay. He availed himself of this to reprove the king for his voluptuous
life, and to exhort him to amendment of conduct. But his influence on this side
interfered with the policy of Brunehild, the powerful grandmother of the prince,
and she, in concert with the nobles and prelates, to whom Columban’s presence had
long been burdensome, plotted to banish him. It was Columban’s way not to avoid
the machinations which were directed against him. True to his axiom, “to be bold
in the cause of truth, invincible by the wicked,” he opposed an unyielding firmness
to all these plots. At length, after twenty-five years of activity, he was driven
out of the country, A. D. 610. It was at first decreed that he should be conveyed
to Ireland, but circumstances hindered the execution of this decree. On his journey
through France, he experienced many consolatory proofs that God was
He then went to Switzerland, to Zug and Brienz, where he laboured
many years for the conversion of the Suevi and Alemanni. See in the life of
Gallus.
To the last he was active in endeavouring to heal a schism which
had endured many years in Italy. The emperor Justinian, who by his unwise and despotic
interference with ecclesiastical affairs, and by his darling project of uniting
the emperor with the theologian, instead of occupying himself only with the faithful
accomplishment of his duties as a ruler, had produced such serious divisions in
the Greek Church, had also suffered himself to be moved by the rancour of a theological
party at the court, publicly to anathematize the memory of three great Syrian doctors,
(Theodorus, Theodoret, and Ibas;) and the weak and indecisive Roman bishop Vigilius
had at length consented to join in this foolish undertaking of the emperor. As the
later Roman bishops followed the decision of their predecessor, the consequence
was a schism in Italy, many important Churches (in Istria and the Venetian territory)
refusing to yield to this decision. Many accusations were thereby occasioned against
the orthodoxy of the Roman Church. Columban therefore wrote a bold though respectful
letter to Pope Boniface IV., in which he requested him to institute an unprejudiced
inquiry into this matter, and entreated him to seek the restoration of the peace
of the Church. “Watch,” he wrote to the Pope, “first over the faith, then to encourage
the works of faith, and to eradicate vice; for your watchfulness will be the salvation,
as your neglect will be
Columban died in his seventy-second year, or perhaps older, after having, in an active life, full of manifold labours, scattered the seeds of Christian knowledge in France, Switzerland, and Italy; and by the disciples whom he left behind his labours were continued in the subsequent ages.
AMONGST the disciples whom Columban brought with him from Ireland
to France, one of the most distinguished was Gallus. He was of a noble Irish family,
and was early intrusted by his pious parents to Columban, to be trained for the
service of the kingdom of God. Columban, who, as we observed above, was a zealous
student of the Scriptures, had implanted a deep love for them in the youth’s breast.
He spoke from the Scriptures with simplicity and affection, pressing the words home
to men’s hearts. When Columban with his friends met with a hospitable reception
from pious men, and after having laid aside his travelling clothes, wished to have
something read aloud out of the Scriptures, it was his favourite pupil Gallus who
was desired to do it,
The monks then proceeded to busy themselves in cultivating their
garden, and planting fruit-trees. Gallus wove nets, and carried on a fishery. He
was so successful in this, that he not only provided the It is related also of bishop Wilfred, preacher of the Gospel
in Sussex in the latter part of the seventh century, that “When he arrived there,
a famine was prevailing. The sea and rivers were full of fish, but the people only
understood how to catch eels. He had first to instruct them in fishing. He caused
all the nets to be brought together; his people used them in the right way, and
caught three hundred fish of various kinds. One hundred of these he kept for his
own people; one hundred he gave to those who had lent the nets; one hundred to the
poor. By this means he won the love of the people: and now that they had to thank
him for earthly blessings, they heard him so much the more gladly when he told them
of heavenly things.”
The vacant see of Constance was offered to Gallus;
Then he deduces the origin of all evil, from the desire of reasonable
beings, to be the basis of their own existence, and to find life and happiness in
themselves; thence arose their inward void, inasmuch as the creature, if
turned away from the
BONIFACE, or Winfried, as they called him in Anglo-Saxon, born
at Crediton in Devonshire, in 680, deserves to be honoured as the father of the
German Church, although he was by no means the first who brought the seeds of the
Gospel to Germany. Many had already laboured before him; but the efforts which had
been made here and there did
It is remarkable in the history of the first training of Boniface,
that the germs of religion were early developed in his heart. The custom had been
retained in England, from the days of the first pious Irish missionaries, of the
clergy visiting the houses of the laity, and giving exhortations to their families
on religious subjects.. The boy used attentively to listen on these occasions, and
they gladly conversed with him on matters of religion. His father sought to repress
his inclination for a religious life, for he had destined him for a distinguished
place in the world. But as is so frequently the case, this disposition of mind only
gained the more strength, the more his father endeavoured to repress it, and the
father was at length moved by a severe sickness to yield to his son’s inclination.
Boniface educated himself .in many famous English convents, where he became especially
learned in the Holy Scriptures, which were hereafter to serve him as a light on
his way amongst the uncivilized nations. His spirit was indeed cramped by many prejudices
which hindered him from perceiving the pure doctrine of the Scriptures, and which
must necessarily have hindered his subsequent missionary labours—for the purer and
freer
When Boniface had passed his thirty-fifth year, he felt incited by the example of the earlier missionaries amongst his countrymen, to carry the message of salvation to the heathen. What would have become of our fatherland, if God had not then awakened by his Spirit, especially in England and Ireland, this zeal for missions! As we now look joyfully back on the labours of those heroes of the faith to whom we owe the blessings of Christianity and all our civilization, so one day will the Churches gathered out from the heathen in Southern India, Asia, and Africa, when they shall have received through Christianity the abundance of earthly and heavenly blessings, look thankfully back on the awakening missionary zeal of these our days. Egbert, an English priest, had given the first impulse to this missionary activity. This Egbert had vowed, in a mortal sickness, to consecrate his life, if it should be restored to him, to the service of the Lord amongst foreign nations. He afterwards set forth with other Christians to travel to the German tribes; and although he himself, when on the point of sailing, was detained by many circumstances, this was the first impulse to the great work.
Boniface himself confesses that the natural instinct implanted
in his nation combined with the
The estimation in which he held the Holy Scriptures is shown in
these words of his to a young compatriot, whom he exhorted to the diligent study
of the Bible: “Cast all which hinders thee away, and direct thy whole study to the
Holy Scriptures, and seek there that Divine Wisdom which is more precious than gold;
for what does it become youth more to seek, what can old age more profitably
We can see in these words of his to an English abbess, what was
the ground of his confidence in all his labours and conflicts: “Pray for me, that
He who dwelleth on high, and yet looks on the lowly, (
Boniface availed himself of the help of the secular power, to
guard his churches and cloisters from the devastations of the barbarous heathen,
to secure the life of the monks and nuns whom he had invited from his fatherland
to educate the heathen, and civilize the converts, and to procure the necessary
means of sustenance; and when Christianity had gained an entrance, to destroy the
old traditional objects of heathen idolatry, which were continually recalling the
rude tribes to their old worship, and perpetually restored to their old uses. One
remarkable incident will show how Boniface was able to work on uncivilized men by
means of outward impressions. When he was preaching the Gospel in Hesse, an ancient
oak, of gigantic size, consecrated to Thor the Thunderer, the sight of which filled
the people with great reverence, powerfully counteracted the influence of his sermons.
The people could not get freed from their faith in the Divine power of this oak,
and were, therefore, even when the sermons of Boniface made a momentary impression,
ever ready again to fall into heathenism. So Boniface, by the advice of those Hessian
Christians who had resisted the seductions of heathenism, went with a few attendants
to the oak. He himself cut down the tree with an axe, whilst the heathen crowd furiously
surrounded him. When, however, they saw the oak fall asunder in four pieces, without
their god being able to take vengeance on Boniface, their delusion at once fell
with it. In order to perpetuate the impression of this
The chief effort of Boniface was to produce an impression on the hearts of the young by religious education, and the communication of Christian culture. His zealous attention to the educational institutions attached to the convents, as well as many other things, contradict the accusation of his having endeavoured to compel the outward conversion of the people by means of the secular power, of whose co-operation he availed himself in the instances adduced above.
His fatherly care for the education and training of the new converts,
is beautifully expressed in a letter, in which he entreated the Frankish court-chaplain,
Fulrad, to endeavour, that after his death a zealous and able man should be placed
at the head of his work, which, after twenty years of activity, he was on the point
of leaving: “I beseech his majesty the king,” (Pepin,) he writes, “in the name of
Christ the Son of God, that he would deign to show me in my lifetime what reward
he will hereafter bestow on my scholars: for they are almost entirely strangers—some
are priests, appointed in various places to the service of the Church and the congregations;
some monks, who have been appointed in our cells to teach children to read; some
old men, who have laboured with me long and sustained me. I am anxious on account
of all these, lest after my death they should be scattered as sheep that have no
shepherd, and lest the people
His friend Daniel, bishop of Winchester, when first he entered on his sphere of action, gave him instructions which contain much that is useful: “Before all, he should show the heathen that he was accurately acquainted with their religion; he should, by means of questions, let them find out for themselves what was unreasonable and contradictory in their doctrines, in such a manner as not to ridicule or irritate them, but with all gentleness and moderation, here and there instituting a comparison between their own and the Christian doctrines, yet letting these only appear by the way, so that the heathen should not be so much embittered against him, as disgusted with their own false opinions.”
The following is a specimen of his mode of preaching: “See, my
beloved, what a message we bring you,—not a message from one from whose service
you may purchase exemption; According to the custom of the German tribes, of
purchasing exemption from punishment; of repaying wrongs by a fine in money, which
was the origin of the pernicious system of indulgences.
He then controverts the objection which is often made amongst
heathen nations to the preaching of the Gospel: “How could God, if Christianity
were the only saving religion, have left men for thousands of years without it?”
Undoubtedly, the missionaries,
Without further occupying himself with answering this objection,
Boniface addresses himself to that careless tendency to seek excuses for unbelief
and sin, from which, in many instances, these doubts arose, and recurs to the personal
necessities of each. “There are some amongst you,” he says, “and O that they may
be but few! who complain of our neglect, in having so delayed to preach to you the
way of salvation. Their sorrow would be more just, if they were, at least, now willing
to accept the means of salvation; for how can he who, however late, refuses to suffer
himself to be healed, complain of the dilatoriness of the physician? Indeed, the
longer the sickness has lasted, the greater should be the submissiveness of the
patient. For
He frequently begged his friends in England to send him expositions
of certain passages in the Bible, which he wished to use in his sermons—for instance,
a manual of Bede’s expositions of the texts for Sundays and holidays, which was
useful for preachers. In order to impress a due reverence for the Holy Scriptures
on ignorant men, he caused a copy of a portion of the Bible, which he intended to
employ in his sermons, to be written in England with golden letters. For this purpose
he specially chose the Epistles of the apostle Peter, because, on account of his
relations with the pope, he looked on himself as an ambassador of that apostle.
“He wished,” he wrote, “to have the words of him who had preceded him on the good
way, ever before his eyes.” From these words we perceive how genuine, even though
prejudiced, and how far from the
How full Boniface was of the grandeur and responsibility of his
calling as archbishop of the German Church, may be gathered from his letter to an
English bishop: “The apostle (Paul) calls the priest an overseer, (bishop;) the
prophet (Ezekiel) calls him a watchman; the Redeemer, a shepherd of the Church;
and all declare that the teacher who is silent about the sins of his people, by
his silence incurs the guilt of the blood of souls. Therefore a great and fearful
necessity constrains us, according to the apostle’s words, to be examples to the
flock,—that is, the teacher ought to live so piously, as not to paralyze his words
by inconsistent deeds, and so as not, even whilst living prudently himself, by his
silence, to incur condemnation for the sins of others. ‘Thou shalt hear the word
at my mouth, and give them warning from me, saith the Lord.’
Devoted as Boniface was to the popes, he yet
This Christian boldness, united with a wise consideration and
tolerance, were also shown by Boniface in his behaviour towards Ethelbald, king
of the Mercians. As, amidst his universal activity, he still took a warm share in
the affairs of his fatherland, it pained him much to hear of the unchaste life of
this prince, and he resolved himself to write to him. He began his letter by acknowledging
and commending what was good in the king: “I have heard that you distribute many
alms, and I rejoice at this on your account; for he who gives It
was customary in that age to unite presents with letters. The gift was simple, according
to the character of the age. To the Pope Zacharias, Boniface sent a woollen cloth
for wiping the feet (a gift which he frequently bestowed, alluding to the washing
one another’s feet as a sign of humility) and some silver; to an English bishop,
two flasks of wine; to a Roman ecclesiastical officer, a silver goblet and a linen
cloth.
But this first letter was not to come immediately into the hands of the prince; Boniface sent it to Herefried, a presbyter, to read it aloud to the king. “For we have heard,” he wrote to Herefried, “that you, by the fear of God, are delivered from the fear of man, and that this prince has often deigned in some measure to hearken to your exhortations; and you must know that I have addressed these words of exhortation to the king out of pure love, and because I was born and brought up amongst Englishmen, because I rejoice in the welfare of my people, and the praise bestowed upon it, but mourn over its sins, and the reproach cast upon it.” Thus did Boniface combine all Christian prudence with the holy zeal which bears the sword of the Spirit.
Whilst we acknowledge the work of the Divine Spirit in a man employed by God as an instrument to found His kingdom amongst an important portion of mankind, and must be careful not to deny this work of the Spirit, manifesting itself by its fruits to be such, in consequence of the imperfections of the flesh, nevertheless we must not leave these imperfections unnoticed and unexposed. We must, as in testing ourselves, so also in testing others, be ever on our guard not to confound the things of the flesh with the things of the Spirit.
That which marred the operations of Boniface
What the apostle Paul says to the Galatians is applicable, in
a measure, to the whole Church:— “Having begun in the Spirit, are ye now made perfect
in the flesh? Why therefore do ye turn again to the weak and beggarly elements whereunto
Yet it may be questioned whether Clement were as well fitted as
Boniface to deal with uncivilized men: whether he knew how appropriately to distinguish
between the milk and the strong meat; to separate the practically important from
the unimportant;
Beside this Clement, stands Adalbert the Frank, who must not be
compared with Clement as to insight and practical wisdom. He was a predecessor of
those mystic sects who opposed a certain inward religion of the heart, to ceremonial
services and the traditions of men; but, inasmuch as they followed only their feelings
and their imagination, whilst the Holy Scriptures were not at their side to remind
them to watch over themselves,—as a warning voice against the angels of darkness
who clothe themselves as angels of light in lowly guise, and a guide to the discerning
of spirits,—or, inasmuch as they made themselves masters of the Holy Scriptures,
instead of following them,—they fell into many perilous self-delusions of enthusiasm,
and often opposed, to the errors against which they contended, errors of another
kind. A sincere piety is breathed in this prayer of Adalbert’s: “Almighty God, Father
of our Lord Jesus Christ, Thou who art the Alpha and the Omega, (the beginning and
the end of all being,) who sittest enthroned above the cherubim and seraphim; Thou
great love, sum of all joy, Father of the holy angels; Thou who halt created heaven
and earth, the sea, and all that therein is;
Tightly as the spirit of Boniface was bound, on many sides, by
the traditions of the Roman Church, the quickening spirit of Christianity seems
sometimes to have raised him above them. For instance: he was sorely perplexed when
he heard that, according to the laws of the Church, the so-called spiritual relationship
of sponsorship, was a hinderance to the conclusion of a marriage, and could not
conceive how, in this one instance, spiritual relationship could be so great a barrier
to a temporal union, whereas by baptism all were made sons and daughters of Christ
and the Church,— brothers and sisters. In a similar way did Luther, the second
apostle of Germany, arrive at the knowledge of the nothingness of these traditions
of the canon law. In a letter of the year 1523 (v. De Wette, vol. 1, p. 351,)
he says: “And it is to be observed, that it is a very great thing that we all have
one baptism, one sacrament, one God, and one Spirit, by virtue whereof we are all
spiritual brethren and sisters. Since, then, this spiritual brotherhood does not
hinder me from taking a wife, who has the same baptism with myself, why should my
having stood for her at the font hinder me, which is far less? The evil spirit has
invented this law, to confound God in his free governance.”
Even the last days of his threescore and ten years, Boniface would not spend in comfortable repose. As he could then happily leave the continuance of his work in Germany to his successor Lall, the constraint of love impelled him to go where the labourers were few, where great conflicts had still to be endured for the Gospel. The thought of labouring for the conversion of the Frieslanders, for whom, since the fifty years’ labours of the zealous Willibrord, nothing had been done, and of whom a great number were still heathens,—this thought had never left him; and now that there was no more for him to do in Germany, it possessed his soul with fresh power.
He took leave of Lall, his successor, saying to him, “I can do
no otherwise,—I must go forth, as the impulse of my heart constrains me,—for the
time of my departure is at hand. But thou, my beloved son, finish the foundation
of the churches in Thuringia, which I have begun; call back the people diligently
from errors; complete the erection of the church at Fulda, (the darling institution
of Boniface;) and there be the resting-place of my
He collected the last strength of his old age, increased by the
inspiration of faith, and travelled through Friesland in his seventieth year with
the energy of youth; he preached, he convinced, and baptized thousands, he destroyed
heathen temples, and founded churches. The baptized had been scattered, and he;
desired them all to assemble on a certain day, before him, to receive confirmation.
Boniface and his companions had, meanwhile, pitched their tents by the river Burde,
near the city of Dorkingen, then the boundary between East and. West Friesland.
When the morning of the appointed day broke, Boniface watched, with a full heart,
the arrival of his new converts. He heard the tramp of a coming crowd; but it was
a great host of armed and furious heathen, who had bound themselves by an oath to
destroy on that day the foe of their gods. The Christian youths who accompanied
Boniface wished to defend him, and a battle was about to begin; but as soon as he
heard the tumult, he came forth, attended by his clergy bearing the relics which
they had with them, and he said to the youths, “Cease to strive; for the Holy Scriptures
teach us plainly, not to recompense
BONIFACE had especially directed his attention to youth, and had thus scattered seed which continued to bear fruit after his death. He was by these means enabled to leave men behind him, who, trained and moulded by him, carried out his labours in various spheres in his own spirit. Among these scholars of his, the abbot Gregory was especially distinguished. The way in which Boniface first became connected with him, shows, in a remarkable manner, what power he exercised over youthful minds.
When Boniface left his first sphere of action in
Then the grandmother perceived that something higher was stirring the heart of the youth; she gave him a horse and servant, and suffered him to go away with Boniface. Lindger observes on this: “It seems to me that the same Spirit then stirred in this youth, as enkindled the Apostles, when, on a word from the Lord, they left their nets and their father, and followed the Redeemer. This was effected by the Great Teacher—the One Spirit of God, who worketh all things in all men, dividing to every man severally as He will.”
Gregory henceforth followed Boniface everywhere, amidst all dangers
and difficulties, as his most faithful disciple. Subsequently he travelled with
him to Rome, and brought thence Bibles, which he used in the instruction of youth.
He accompanied him on his last journey to Friesland, and, as abbot of a monastery
in Utrecht, he was most active after the death of his master, in the
In his seventieth year, three years before his death, Gregory
injured his left side. Still he remained cheerful, went about with his scholars,
or allowed himself to be carried about by them, continued
AMONGST the most active of the scholars of Boniface, besides Abbot
Gregory, may be mentioned Sturm, a man of a noble Bavarian family, who was early
given up by his parents to Boniface to be educated. After having assisted Boniface,
during three years, in the office of a preacher, the idea, seized him of founding
a convent in one of those enormous wildernesses which then covered
On the day before his death, Sturm assembled all his people together and said to them: “Ye know my endeavour, how until this day I have laboured and carefully provided for your welfare and peace, that this convent after my death may remain faithful to the will of Christ, and that ye may be able here to serve the Lord in love unfeigned. Persevere, then, all the days of your lives, in the course you have begun. Pray for me to the Highest, and forgive me, if I have done any evil amongst you, or wronged any man. I forgive you all from my heart, all your reproaches against me; also Lall who was ever against me.” He meant Lall, Archbishop of Mainz, who had been engaged in many hot conflicts with Abbot Sturm, and had not behaved towards him in the spirit of Christian love, although there may have been much right and wrong on both sides.
When, on the next day, the signs of approaching death began to show themselves in him, the monks begged him to be their intercessor with the Lord, to whom he was going. He replied: “Show yourselves worthy, and be such in your lives, that I may justly pray for you, and then I will do what you desire.”
THE cause of the first failure of the mission amongst the Saxons,
may serve as a lesson and a warning to all times. It was this: that they sought
to introduce from without what can only be effected from within; that worldly aims
were blended with the diffusion of Christianity; that men did not follow the example
of the Apostle Paul, who, in preaching the Gospel, allowed the Jews to remain Jews,
and the Greeks, Greeks, and knew how to become to the Jews as a Jew, and to the
Greeks as a Greek. The pious and wise Abbot Alcuin, directed the attention of Charlemagne
to these defects and mistakes. He writes to the emperor: “Seek for the new nation
preachers of upright conduct, who are well taught in the faith, who follow the example
of the Apostles in preaching the Gospel; in the beginning, feeding their hearers
with the milk of the faith, that is, with comfortable doctrines. (
To Meganfried, an imperial Privy Counsellor, Alcuin wrote: “We
read in the Acts of the Apostles, that Paul and Barnabas journeyed to Jerusalem,
to James and the other Apostles, in order to consult how best the Gospel could be
preached to the . heathen. And they resolved unanimously,
WE will mention here two men, who, in their labours amongst the Saxons, were able to keep themselves from the errors pointed out by Alcuin, and were models of true missionaries. Amongst these is Lindger. He sprang from the tribe of the Frieslanders, and the germ of Christianity was early implanted in his soul. His grandfather was an eminent man amongst his people; his name was Wursing, with the surname of Ado. Ado, even whilst yet a heathen, belonged to those of whom the Apostle Paul says, that “those who having not the law do by nature the things contained in the law, are a law unto themselves”— those who, although no further revelation be vouchsafed them, yet recognise in their conscience the voice of God. He took up the cause of the fatherless and widow, and was a just judge. But by his zeal against all injustice, he drew on himself the enmity of Radbod, the heathen king of the Frieslanders, and was compelled to take refuge in the neighbouring Frankish empire. He afterwards became a zealous Christian, and supported the above-mentioned Willibrord, who was called Archbishop of Utrecht, in his labours amongst his countrymen.
Lindger was a grandson of this pious man. Even. as a child, tokens
of his future destiny were observed in him. As soon as he could speak and walk,
he used to collect bits of leather and bark,
The second of these genuine missionaries, was
Willehad, of Northumberland. The rumours of what other missionaries were
doing amongst the Frieslanders and Saxons, incited him to follow their example.
He laboured first in the regions where Boniface had found the martyr’s death. Many
were baptized by him, many of the people of rank intrusted their children to him
to be educated. When, however, he entered on what is now the district of Groningen,
where idolatry then prevailed, the fury of the heathen people was so excited by
his activity, that they were about to murder him. But, according to the counsel
of one of the more moderate, the gods were first to be consulted by lot. And since
even superstition must subserve the will of God, the guidance of the Almighty so
ordained it, that the lot fell for his preservation, and be was suffered to depart
untouched. He then repaired to the district of Drenthe. His preaching had already
found an opening there, when one of his followers, led by an indiscreet zeal, hastened
to
At length, after the restoration of quiet amongst the vanquished
Saxons, the conquerors were able to found the bishopric of Bremen, which Charlemagne
had projected, and it was bestowed on Willehad. On one of his visitations, which
the recent erection of his diocese obliged to be frequent, when in 789 he arrived
at Bloxem on the Weser, not far from Vegesack, he was seized with a raging fever,
which threatened a speedy death. His scholars stood mourning around his bed. One
of them, who was in the especial confidence of the bishop, expressed with tears
the grief they all should feel if their spiritual father should be taken from them,
and their anxiety for the orphan churches, scarcely yet gained over to Christianity.
“O, venerable father!” he said, “desert not so soon those whom you have so recently
won to the Lord. Leave not the churches and the clergy, who have been gathered by
your zeal, orphaned behind, lest the still feeble flock be exposed to the assaults
of the wolves. Withdraw not your presence from us your poor scholars, lest we wander
about as sheep having no
IF we compare Boniface and Anschar with one another, we see again an example of two perfectly, different individualities, which the Spirit has employed as, his instruments. In Boniface, more of the nature of Peter; in Anschar, of John: in Boniface, more fiery, penetrating power; in Anschar, more quiet love. Boniface was more fitted to effect great things outwardly; but to be unwearied in small things, to cherish in secret with persevering love the imperceptible seed, important as the first beginning of a new creation—this was the gift of Anschar.
Anschar seems to have received his first religious
“But I believed that He was there, whom even the angels desire
to see; for from Him went forth an unspeakable glory, by which the whole length
and breadth of the Church of the saints were illumined. He himself was, as it were,
all and all in Himself; He himself surrounded all from without; He himself was inwardly
amongst them. He satisfied all their wants, and was their guiding soul. He hovered
over them from above, guiding them; He was the stay which sustained them from beneath;
sun and moon shone not there, neither heaven nor earth was seen. Yet it had no brightness
which might have dazzled the eyes of those
We have given this vision according to the description of Anschar himself, because it gives us such deep insight into the God-filled life of a simple Christian soul. This vision made a powerful and inextinguishable impression on him.
He was awakened by it to a new vigour of Christian life,—and henceforth
he was animated by the thought that he was to die the precious death of a witness
for the faith. Two years later, he had another remarkable dream. He had retired
to pray in a chapel into which he was wont frequently to retire for quiet devotion,
and when he arose from prayer, a man of a sublime countenance, clothed in Jewish
garments, entered the door; his eyes shone as if they were full of light. Anschar
at once recognised him as the Lord Christ, and cast himself at his feet. As he lay
thus on his face, the vision desired him to rise; and as he then stood reverently.
before Him and was unable to look in his face, because of the exceeding brightness
of the light which beamed from His eyes, the Lord said to him in a gentle voice,
“Confess thy sins, that thou mayest be justified.” Anschar replied, “Lord, what
can I say to Thee? Thou knowest all things, and nothing is hidden from Thee.” The
Lord answered. “I indeed know all things, but I will that men should confess their
sins, that they may receive forgiveness.” After he had made confession of his sins,
and then had knelt down to pray, the Lord
He was subsequently sent with other monks from the Abbey of Corbie to the Abbey of Corvei, which had been planted as a colony from Corbie, for the diffusion of Christianity and Christian culture on the banks of the Weser,—to direct the school there and to preach to the people. Amongst the manifold difficulties with which this monastery had to contend in a wild and destitute district, opportunities were afforded him for the exercise of Christian patience, and this was certainly a good preparation for his calling as a missionary.
When Harold, king of Jutland, who had been baptized at Jugelheim, was returning in the year 826, from a visit to his ally the Emperor Louis the Good, the emperor wished to send a zealous preacher of the Gospel with the returning Danes, for the confirming and strengthening of their own faith and for its further propagation. But it was difficult to find any one, who would not be withheld by the frightful tales of the barbarism of these Northmen, and the cruel character of their idolatry.
Only Wale, Abbot of Corbie, to which Anschar had then returned,
declared to the emperor, that he knew a man of fervent zeal for the cause of God,
who even longed to die for it. Anschar was summoned, and was instantly ready to
travel to Denmark with King Harold. Whilst his abbot was
The most distinguished traits in the character of Anschar are
his unwearying patience, his winning love, and his steadfastness of faith when dangers
and hinderances opposed him. These his characteristic qualities were tested in many
ways, from his first entrance on this vocation. The Danes whom he accompanied on
their voyage to their native land,
King Harold, after this, was banished from his kingdom. Anschar was able to effect nothing more than to buy some native lads, in order to educate them for teachers of their countrymen, and to found a small school in Schleswig,—the first Christian institution in those parts. His companion Antbert was taken from him by an illness which compelled his return to his native land. But those unfavourable circumstances could not make him waver,—a proof how free he was from self; since the more self-love is mingled with zeal flowing from the purest source, the more restless and impatient men are to see the fruit of their labours. The purer zeal is from the admixture of self, the more it will carry on the Fork of God, in the consciousness that neither is he that planteth anything, nor he that watereth, but that it is God who giveth the increase; leaving it to Him to give the increase when and how He will.
In this unfavourable situation, the call came to him to a new
sphere of missionary labours in Sweden, and he at once obeyed it, convinced that
Subsequently, he himself was surprised by the heathen Normans
in Hamburg, the seat of his bishopric; he lost everything, and could hardly save
himself. He was compelled to seek a place of refuge on the estates of a pious and
noble widow in Holstein. But as soon as he could restore security and quiet to his
own diocese, it was immediately his aim once more to extend the sphere of his activity.
The most unfavourable prospects, on account of the enmity of Horik, then the reigning
sovereign in Denmark, who had taken an active share in those hostile devastations
of the diocese of Hamburg, could not restrain him. He knew the almighty power of
love, he prayed continually for the conversion and salvation of those who threatened
destruction to him and all Christians with fire and sword, that God would not lay
to their charge the sins which they committed in their ignorance. He allowed himself
to be employed
Horik wrote to him, that “he had never in his life seen such a man, and had never found such fidelity in any man, and because he had found such goodness in him, he had allowed him to do what he liked with regard to Christianity in his dominions, and he hoped therefore that King Olof would permit him to preach the Gospel in his kingdom, for he would certainly do nothing but what was just and good.”
When Anschar arrived in Sweden, he found the heathen there in
a state of great excitement against the strange religion. His friends advised him
only to employ the presents he had brought with him to rescue his life from the
impending danger. But Anschar replied: “To rescue my life I will bestow nothing
here; for if the Lord has so ordered it, I am prepared to suffer torture here for
his name’s sake, and even death.” He invited the King to a
Anschar experienced in his laborious and perilous life, many remarkable answers to prayer. This became known, and many sick people came from a distance to be cured by his prayers.
But he himself rejected the fame of a worker of miracles, saying, “If I were worthy, I would ask one miracle of my God, that he would make of me by his grace a holy man.”
When, after the labours of four-and-thirty years, he was hastening to his dissolution, amidst the sufferings of a painful sickness, he would often say with Job: “Have we received good at the hand of the Lord, and shall we not also receive evil?” After receiving the Holy Supper, he raised his hands to heaven, and prayed, that the grace of God might pardon all who in any way had injured him. Then he frequently repeated the words: “Lord, in thy goodness remember me, for thy mercies’ sake. Be merciful to me, a sinner; for into thy hands I commend my spirit.” And when, gazing towards heaven, he had commended his spirit to the grace of God, he left this world. It was in the year 865.
Adalbert was born of a noble family in Prague, in the year 956. He was educated in Magdeburg, and thence returned to his native land. In the year 983 he was elected bishop of his native city. Much heathen barbarism then prevailed amongst his countrymen; and Adalbert, who could not tolerate a heathen life, as united to an outward confession of Christ, had on this account to endure many a hard conflict. He did not lack glowing zeal and steadfastness; but perhaps he did sometimes fail in discretion and that unwearying patience, which must indeed have been exposed to hard trials amongst these wild tribes, who would submit to no yoke.
He, therefore, more than once excommunicated this flock, who would not follow him as their shepherd, nor give up their lawless ways. He wished to take refuge in a monastic life, and visited the venerable Nilus in Italy—a man who shone as a light in the darkness, whose life and labours we will look at more closely by-and-by. But he was again constrained to return to his wild flock, to be driven from it a second time.
When he took leave of his people for the third time,—impelled by a fervent zeal to labour for the propagation of Christianity,—he repaired to Hungary, where the seed of faith had recently begun to germinate.
He was very gladly received by the king Geisa,
His impatience, however, soon drove him away from Hungary. He resolved to go where no missionary had yet penetrated—to the heathens in Prussia. Duke Boleslad I., of Poland, to whom he applied, gave him a ship, and thirty soldiers for an escort.
So he proceeded to Dantzig, then the frontier town of Prussia, towards Poland. Here he commenced his labours, and succeeded in baptizing many. Then he left that neighbourhood in order to proceed to the opposite shore. Having landed there, he sent back the ship and the men. He wished to commit himself wholly to the protection of his God,—as a messenger of peace, not to come under the guardianship of human might,—and also to avoid anything which might excite suspicion amongst the heathen.
He only retained with him the priest Benedict, and his pupil Gaudentius.
They landed at the Frische Haff, and proceeded in a small skiff to an island formed
by the Pregel at its mouth. But the inhabitants came with cudgels to drive them
away, and one of them gave Adalbert such a violent blow
“My son,” observed Adalbert, who believed he saw in this a token
of the martyr’s crown destined for him, “God bless this vision; yet we may not trust
to a dream which may delude us.” At daybreak they set forth on their journey, and
they went joyfully through thick forests singing and calling on the Lord Christ.
Song shortened the way. Towards midday they came to a place cleared for fields.
Here Gaudentius celebrated the mass, Adalbert partook of the holy supper; then they
sat down on the turf, and refreshed themselves with some of the provisions which
they had brought with them. After Adalbert had concluded the meal by repeating a
verse from the Bible, and chanting a psalm, he arose, and when he had gone a little
way he sat down again. Weary with walking, he and his companions fell into a deep
sleep; but they were awakened in a terrible way. It was the raging of a wild band
of heathen that aroused them. They were all thrown into chains. Adalbert continued
in unruffled
The century of Adalbert was not rich in messengers of the faith.
Only when the Church is rich within in the gifts of the Spirit, can the Divine fulness
stream forth around; and the water of life, which fertilizes the heathen world,
will flow back in blessing to the places from which it sprang. But where spiritual
life is lacking, no beneficial influence can issue thence to those without. If the
salt have lost its savour, nothing can be salted with it. This holds good as to
the tenth century, in which the seeds of Christianity, already sown, were menaced
with destruction by the thorns and thistles of sensual barbarism. Men were needed
then who would once more arise as missionaries amongst the degenerate natives, who
named themselves by the name of Christ, but amongst whom little of his spirit and
life were to be found,—men
Nilus was born at Rossano, in Calabria,
in the year 910, of an old Greek family. His pious parents, to whom only one child,
a daughter, had been given, besought the Lord that he would give them a son. This
prayer was heard, and that son was Nilus. They carried the child to the church,
and consecrated him to the service of God. On that account, also, they gave him
the name of Nilus, after a venerated monk of the fifth century, distinguished by
his spirit of vital Christianity, and to whose example the youth who bore his name
subsequently conformed. The seed which his pious parents sowed in his childish heart,
hhd at first the effect of preserving him from the corruptions of the age. But as
he lost his parents early, he grew up under the care of his married sister, who
was also a pious woman. From his childhood he used to read the biographies of the
old venerated monks, Antony, Hilarion, etc.; and thus a spirit of deep, earnest
piety was awakened in him, which made him from the first fly the corrupt manners
prevalent
When, afterwards, a reaction against the depravity of morals around,
drove him into so much the more stern an asceticism, he had many conflicts to undergo
with himself, and by these many opportunities were given him of searching into the
depths of his own heart. Upon his holiest seasons tempting thoughts would intrude
themselves—temptations to spiritual pride, which most naturally mingle with an ascetic
striving after sanctification by self-conquest, and temptations to sensuality. Often,
whilst he was praying and singing in the church, such thoughts as these would arise
within him: “Look towards the altar: perchance thou mayst see an angel there, or
a flame of fire, or the Holy Ghost, as many have done before.” And had he given
himself up to such thoughts, he might easily have fallen into the most perilous
self-deceptions and fanaticism and the Divine life in him, as in many others who
could not overcome such temptations, might have been crushed by pride and vanity.
The angels of darkness, who know how to clothe themselves as angels of light, would
have possessed themselves of his soul, and bound it in their fetters. It was the
temptation which his Saviour had passed through before him, to make bread of the
stones of the wilderness, to cast himself down from the pinnacle of the temple.
The faithful disciple followed his example. Nothing
In that age, when many of those who opposed the prevailing corruptions
sought to be justified by their own works, he felt constrained all the more to yield
himself up entirely to the Saviour, and to rely on him alone. The scholar of Nilus
who relates this from his life, adds: What much fasting and watching could not accomplish,
was effected
Nilus was frequently visited by men of all ranks, the noblest both amongst the clergy and the laity, and they used to lay many questions before him. He made use of every such opportunity to direct people’s attention to the one thing needful; to warn them against a false confidence in a mere external Christianity, dead faith, and outward works; and to turn them from fruitless subtleties to that which was necessary for the salvation of their souls. Once, when he saw the archbishop with an imperial privy-councilor, many priests, and government-officers, and several of the congregation coming towards him, he said: “See, they are coming again, to enter into empty and idle talk with me. But, my Lord Jesus Christ, deliver us out of the snares of Satan, and grant us to think, to speak, and to do what is well-pleasing unto thee.” And when he had so prayed, he opened the book which he had in his hand,—a biography of saintly men,—and marked the first passage which pleased him. When his visitors had saluted him and seated themselves, he gave the privy-councillor the book to read where he had marked it, and he read the words in which it was said, “that only one among thousands should be saved.”
When the rest heard that, they were seized with horror, and exclaimed,
“God forbid that it should be so; that is not true; whoever said this is a heretic.
Thus we should in vain have been baptized; These words have indeed another application in their
proper connexion, (
When, on the next day, he was visiting a neighbouring castle,
he met a Jew whom he had known from his youth, and who was much esteemed as a physician.
The Jew said to him: “I have heard much of thy austerities and abstinences, and,
as I know thy constitution, I have often wondered that thou hast not fallen a victim
to epilepsy. I will, however, now give thee a remedy, adapted to thy constitution,
which shall suffice for every day of thy life, and enable thee to fear no sickness.”
Nilus replied to this, without troubling himself further to inquire about such an
universal remedy:
“One of you, a Hebrew, has said, It is good to trust in the Lord,
and to put no confidence in man.’ (
It happened that a viceroy, sent from Constantinople, who was placed over all the western provinces of the Greek empire, had excited general discontent by an enterprise which he deemed beneficial, but which had proved burdensome to many. The inhabitants of the district of Rossano suffered themselves, in a moment of irritation, to be led into terrible deeds of violence. They repented afterwards, and knew not what to do, as they bad reason to fear a severe revenge from the viceroy. In their desperation, they had already formed the project of still further increasing the evil, by raising a general insurrection against the Greek empire, to which they were subject. Then they turned their eyes to Nilus, and the remembrance of him inspired hope into their souls. They intrusted themselves to his mediation.
As soon as the warm-hearted man, who could not refuse his sympathy
even to the guilty, was appealed to by them, he hastened to them. When he arrived,
he made use of what had happened, to give them suitable exhortations, and then he
advised the citizens no longer to close their gates against the viceroy, whose vengeance
they dreaded, but at once to surrender to him. Full of fury, he entered the city;
and while the members of the
He was often thus compelled to abandon the quiet holy calm of a life devoted to prayer and contemplation, to descend from his height to the need of men, to protect those who were sore oppressed by the might of tyrants who feared not God. In most inclement weather, in heat and in cold, he would, on these accounts, take long journeys alone on foot. Wet to the skin, or with benumbed hands and feet, or burned by the sun, weary, faint with hunger and thirst, would he often arrive at the goal of his journey; but love made all easy to him.
Once a chamberlain, who stood in high honour at Constantinople,
came to the neighbouring castle, and expressed his amazement that Nilus did not
come, with the other abbots, to pay him his respects. Even the first bishop of the
empire, the patriarch, would, he thought, have shown him more respect. But those
who knew Nilus better, answered him, that “this old man was no patriarch, yet he
feared neither the patriarch nor even the emperor, whom all fear. He lives there
on the mountain with a few monks, and needs no assistance from any man.” Still more
amazed at this account, the chamberlain wrote Nilus a letter, in which he entreated
him either not to hide himself when he should come to visit him, or himself to visit
the castle to bless him and his. Partly moved by his entreaties, and partly in the
hope of obtaining a more favourable hearing when he had to
A countryman of Nilus, Philagathos, or John Bishop of Piacenza,
who was apt to meddle to his own hurt with political affairs, had entered into an
alliance with the Roman usurper Crescentius, and had been made Pope by him after
the expulsion of Gregory V. Nilus felt himself constrained to warn him by a letter
against the consequences of his ambition.
The prayers of Nilus were frequently besought on behalf of the
sick, or of those who suffered from mental diseases, (regarded in those days as
possessed by evil spirits,) either by themselves or their relations. But he perceived
the snare which threatened him, and rejected the fame of a worker of miracles. Once
a man who held a distinguished military appointment, brought his heavily-afflicted
son to him for this purpose. Nilus replied to his entreaties: “Believe me, my friend,
I have never asked God to give me the gifts of miraculous healing, or the power
to cast out evil spirits. May I but attain forgiveness of my own numerous sins,
and deliverance from the evil thoughts which disturb me! Do thou rather pray for
me, that I may be delivered from many evil spirits. For thy son has only
one evil spirit, and that involuntarily , and perchance this may tend to
the salvation of his soul, either as a purification from former sins, or as a preservation
against others.” When, however, the son was restored to health, and the father wished
to thank Nilus for his mediation, he replied: “God has healed thy son; I have done
nothing towards it?’ The scholar who has described the life of Nilus, and who in
those words manifests the spirit of his master, says: “I will not relate great marvels
of him, by which the ears of the childish and
Christian communion between those who belonged to the Greek, and
those who belonged to the Latin Church, was at that time disturbed by controversies
on particular ecclesiastical customs, usages, and doctrines, in which there was
a variation. But Nilus was too deeply grounded in the Divine word, not to prize
the oneness in Christ higher than all such variations , and the genuine spirit of
Christian love raised him above all those divisions. He was regarded with equal
veneration by the members of both Churches. Thus the abbot and monks of the famous
abbey of Monte Cassino, begged him to celebrate the mass in their church in his
native language, in order, as they said, that God might be all in all, (that they
might all together honour God in different tongues and forms—that all other differences
might be subordinate to the unity of the common Divine life.) At first Nilus refused
this offer, saying: “How can we, (the Greeks,) who, on account of our sins, have
been humbled in all lands, sing the Lord’s song in a strange land?” At length, however,
he yielded, in the hope of thus promoting Christian fellowship. Divine service being
concluded, the differences between the two Churches became the subject of conversation.
Amongst these was the fact of the Roman Church ordaining a fast on Saturday, which
the Greek did not. Nilus replied to the questions
Nilus had heard that the lord of Gaeta intended after his death
to bring his bones into the city, and lay them there; believing that the relics
of the holy man would be a protection to the city. But his humility shrank from
the thought, that such veneration as was then paid to the saints should be paid
to him; rather let no man know where he was buried. He took leave of his sorrowful
scholars
Gregory, the proprietor of the place where Nilus had retired to,
a tyrannical man of harsh temper, was much moved when he heard that a man so venerated
had repaired thither. He came to him, fell at his feet, and said: “O thou servant
of the most high God, I am indeed not worthy, on account of my many sins, that thou
shouldst come under my roof. But since, after the example of thy Master and Lord,
thou halt preferred the sinner to the righteous, see, thou mayst do what thou wilt
with my house and castle, and all my possessions, even all that is before thine
eyes. If thou desirest anything, only tell me what.” Nilus replied: “The
As a new Christian revival distinguished the close of the eleventh
century, missionaries were then sent forth from the reinvigorated Church. We will
sketch a portrait of one of these, to whom Pomerania owes its Christianity. It was
Otho, bishop of Bamberg, who had already in his pastoral office distinguished himself
by his fidelity and his self-sacrificing love. He gladly imposed abstinences on
self, in order to be able to give more to the poor. All that was presented to him
by princes and nobles in the neighbourhood, or from a distance, he delighted in
applying to this purpose. When once, at a season of feasting, when fish were very
dear, a very costly fish was brought to his table, he said to his steward: “God
forbid that the miserable Otho alone should eat so much money. Take this costly
fish to my Christ, who should be dearer to me than myself. Bear it hence, wherever
thou canst find one laid on a bed of sickness. Bread will do for me, a healthy man.”
Once, a valuable fur robe was presented to him, with the request that he would wear
it for the donor’s sake. He sent this message back to the
Dining a great scarcity, many of the poor people were fed by his love, which shrank from no sacrifice. A man whose heart was so enkindled by the fire of love, was perfectly fitted to bear witness of the Saviour to those who had not heard of him.
There happened to come to him a certain bishop Bernhard, a man
of Spanish origin. This man, who on account of some controversy could not enter
on the bishopric to which he had been appointed, felt himself constrained to travel
with his chaplain to
In the year 1124, Otho commenced his missionary expedition. After
many happy results, but also after having made many vain efforts, and passed through
many great perils, he arrived in the metropolis, Stettin. Much depended on the way
in which he was received there. Many of the heathen
While Otho, whose patience was not to be wearied by the first
failure, remained many months in Stettin, he laboured, in the most convincing way,
to refute these accusations against Christianity by
A rich and distinguished man, in the city, had for his wife a
lady who had, in her youth, been carried away captive from a Christian country,
and who was secretly a Christian. She had, indeed, ever remained true to her faith,
but she had not dared openly to confess it amongst the heathen. So much the more
was she rejoiced at the bishop’s arrival; still she did not venture openly to express
her joy, and to unite with him. It probably did not happen without her influence,
however, that both her sons frequently visited the priests, and questioned them
concerning the Christian faith. The bishop availed himself of this, gradually to
lay before them the principal doctrines of Christianity. They at length declared
themselves convinced, and
When the destruction of all the monuments of idolatry was finally
resolved upon, and this resolution was carried out, many valuable things were discovered,
all of which they wished to bestow upon the bishop. But he would receive nothing,
saying: “Far be it from us to seek to enrich ourselves through you. All such things,
and yet more beautiful, we have already in abundance at home.” Yet he was also far
from desiring to devote all which had once ministered to the idol-worship, on that
account, to destruction. He permitted the people to divide amongst themselves all
the treasures that had been gained by the destruction of
Gladly would Otho have come sooner to the aid of the oppressed
infant Church; but he was hindered three years, by various misfortunes and official
engagements, from following the impulse of his heart, and it was not until the spring
of the year 1128 that he was able to return. Travelling by a different route from
that which he had taken before, he arrived first at the town of Demmind, whose governor
was an old acquaintance of his. Here he met Duke Wratislas, of Pomerania, whose
heart he had gained on his first mission. He was returning victorious from a war
with some neighbouring Slavonic tribes, laden with booty. Here Otho saw sights which
deeply pained his affectionate heart. The army of the Duke had carried off many
captives, who were to be distributed like the rest of the booty. Amongst these were
many of feeble and delicate frames; husbands were threatened, by the lot, with separation
from their wives, wives from their husbands, children from their parents. Otho first
succeeded in prevailing on the Duke to liberate the feeblest, and not to separate
relations from one another. But this was not enough for him; he himself, from his
own purse, paid the ransom for many who were still heathens, instructed them in
Christianity, baptized them, and so sent them back to their people. It was then
decided that the Feast of Pentecost should be chosen for the convening of a diet,
in
The city of Usedom, in which, by means of the priests whom Otho
left behind him on his first missionary journey, the seed of Christianity had already
been sown, was chosen as the seat of this Diet. The Diet was composed partly of
those who had always continued heathen, and partly of those who had been previously
converted by Otho, but during his absence had again sunk into Paganism. The duke
presented the bishop to the assembly; he was a man whose whole appearance was calculated
to inspire reverence. He called their attention to the fact, that by the appearing
of this man amongst them, the old excuse—that the preachers of this religion were
poor despicable people, on whom no reliance could be placed, who only sought to
gain a livelihood by these means—was removed. They saw before them one of the first
princes of the German empire, who in his own home had an abundance of everything,
who possessed much gold and silver and many precious stones; of whom, therefore,
there could be no suspicion that he was seeking anything for himself; who, on the
contrary, had abandoned a life full of honour and comfort, and spent his own property
in order to communicate to them what he deemed the best thing. These words prepared
the way in men’s hearts for the bishop’s discourse. The Feast of Pentecost gave
him occasion to speak of
The union of gentleness and firmness was what distinguished bishop
Otho. We have seen how he saved the things which had been devoted to idol-worship
from destruction, applying them to a better purpose. In other circumstances, however,
he acted quite otherwise. Whilst he was labouring in the city of Gietzkow, the people
entreated him to spare a new and magnificent temple, which was looked upon as the
special ornament of the town. But in vain were large presents offered him with this
design. At length they only entreated that the temple might be converted into a
Christian church. But the bishop feared, that if this were permitted, it might lead
to a confusion of heathenism with Christianity. In order to convince the people
that it was for their own good he was compelled to resist their will in this instance,
he made use of this comparison: “Would you sow grain,” he said, “in the midst of
thorns and thistles? I trow not. If, therefore, you first root out the thorns and
thistles from your fields, in
All were full of joy at Nüzlav’s conduct. The clergy bestirred
themselves to get everything ready for the completion of the solemnity, when a necessary
ecclesiastical vessel was missed. Whilst a priest was going about in search of it,
he came near a subterranean dungeon, and the captive youth succeeded in attracting
his observation. He called him to him, and entreated him to obtain his liberation
through the bishop. When the bishop heard this, he was moved with compassion; but
he could not venture to ask this favour also from one who had already granted so
much. He had recourse to fervent prayer; and when le arose from prayer, he called
his priests to him, and desired them to take Nüzlav apart, and, with all modesty,
to prefer him this petition. It cost the man much to make this sacrifice also, and
to renounce so large a sum. But, after some conflict, he overcame himself. He
Bishop Otho would gladly have sacrificed his life for the love of Christ. He longed for the crown of martyrdom, and his fervour may have carried him beyond the bounds of discretion. With longing eyes he looked on the isle of Rügen, situated about two days’ journey off; and an eager desire arose in him to go forth, as a witness for the faith, amongst the warlike inhabitants of that island, who were wholly given to idolatry. But death menaced him there: the people of Rugen had doomed the foe of their gods to death, if he dared to cross their shores. The evident danger could not, however, withhold Bishop Otho. Joyfully would he encounter death for the cause of Christ.
The Duke of Pomerania, and all Otho’s friends, sought to dissuade
him from such a step, but in vain; in vain did they represent to him that he ought
to preserve his life for further service. He called this weakness of faith, saying
that men must seal the Christian faith with works rather than with words. “How,”
he said, “can the preachers of the Gospel expect the reward of eternal life, if
they shrink from yielding up this present life? And if,
There was another occasion, however, on which Otho wisely hazarded
all, in order to gain a triumph for the Gospel; for, in this instance, he might
well expect a happy issue, if relying on the Lord he shrank from no peril. It was
the advancement of the work he had commenced, for which he was obliged to risk his
life, trusting to the protection of Him to whose service he had consecrated it.
The prosperity of the whole Church in Pomerania depended on the fact whether heathenism
or Christianity were victorious in Stettin, the metropolis. The power of heathenism
had arisen there afresh. Those priests, who at Otho’s first coming had suffered
themselves to be baptized, had nevertheless continued heathens in heart, and they
lost too much by the change of religion to brook it patiently. It was easy for them
to find means of influencing the masses of the barbarous people. A pestilence which
spread amongst men and cattle, and of which many died, was indicated by them as
a sign of the wrath of their gods, and this was readily believed by the bewildered
people. They at length succeeded in exciting the multitude so far, that they rose
and gathered together to destroy a Christian church. The most terrible accounts
were spread abroad in consequence of the fury of the heathen population of Stettin,
and of the imminent danger which beset those who ventured to enter the city in the
name of Christianity. Bishop Otho was not
But they knew not how the seed which Otho had scattered there,
crushed as it appeared to be, had been germinating and growing in secret. A reaction
of Christianity, already deeply implanted in the hearts of many, at length, under
various favouring circumstances, led to its final triumph over heathenism. It appears
that Christianity had found the readiest welcome amongst the higher and more educated
classes. Over these the heathen priests did not possess so much influence; amongst
them reviving heathenism found no connecting link. They only dreaded to brave the
tumult of the maddened people. But there were some who had been touched by Christianity
without having completely renounced heathenism. In them heathenism and Christianity
contended with each other, and it depended on many influences which should gain
the
But Otho knew nothing of all this. Not in reliance on human means, and the co-operation of circumstances, but in reliance on God alone and bowing to His will, he went forth to meet the threatened danger, deeming his life to be a small thing in comparison with the holy cause which he served. He first found a refuge with his attendants in a church outside the city. When this became known amongst the people, an armed multitude collected before this church, led on by the priests. They threatened destruction to the church and death to all within it. Here we see how the power of faith gives true presence of mind—true prudence, in those critical moments on the right use of which the whole future often hangs. Had Otho suffered himself to be terrified, and shown fear, the enraged people would have gone farther with their attack; but they were overpowered by his trustful composure and courage. After committing himself and his people to God in prayer, he went forth in his episcopal robes, in the midst of his clergy, chanting hymns and psalms.
The calmness of the bishop who thus dared to despise the fury
of the maddened crowd, and the grandeur of such a sight, awed the multitude. A pause
ensued; and this was employed by the wiser among them, or those who were more favourable
to Christianity, to quiet men’s minds. They told the priests that they should defend
their cause, not with violence, but with arguments. Gradually the crowd dispersed.
The Saturday following this day, which
On the Sunday, Otho caused himself to be led to the market-place
by Witstock, in his priestly robes. He ascended the platform from which the heralds
and other persons in authority were wont to address the people. When Witstock, by
words and gestures, had commanded silence, Otho began to speak. The greater number
listened quietly and attentively. But then came forth a tall and handsome priest,
a man of powerful frame, and with his strong voice quite drowned the voices of Otho
and his interpreter; seeking to inflame the fury of the people against the enemy
of their gods, and exhorting them to take this opportunity of revenge. The lances
were raised, but no one ventured to undertake anything against a man who stood before
them with such calmness of faith. It was the impression of the power of the Divine
Presence on the wild crowd, the calm superiority of sober courage to raging passion,
to which may also have been added, with a large portion of the assembly, the yet
unextinguished influence of the Christianity to
On the next day, an assembly of the people was to decide on the course to be adopted in this religious crisis. This lasted from the early morning until midnight. Some arose and related all that had occurred on the previous day to the assembly in the miraculous light in which it represented itself to them, testifying with enthusiasm to the active and self-sacrificing love of the bishop. Amongst these, Witstock held the first place. It was resolved, that Christianity should be recognised, and all which belonged to heathenism be destroyed. That same night, Witstock hastened to inform the bishop of all that had passed. On the next morning, Otho arose early to praise God for all that His grace had done. He then called an assembly of the people, and addressed to them words of exhortation, which made a deep impression. Many apostates desired to be restored to the communion of the faithful. Thus was the victory won for Christianity. Gladly would Otho, fearless of the martyr’s death, have extended his labours to the island of Rugen, had he not been recalled by duty to his own diocese in the year 1128.
WE conclude these Memoirs from the history of Missions in the
Middle Ages with the portrait of an extraordinary man, who was awakened to the higher
life in a very remarkable way,—a man of a rare variety of high qualities and intellectual
endowments, all illumined by the glow of holy love,—Raymond Lull. We see, by his
example, how much that is great may remain slumbering in a man, until he is brought,
by the breaking-in of a sunbeam from above on his heart, to a consciousness of himself,
and thus to energetic action. Manifold talents are required for the missionary work,
which must be inspired by the Holy Ghost; every one cannot effect everything under
all circumstances. The greatest things are, indeed, accomplished by the power of
the simple Gospel,—by the manifestation of the Spirit, and the power which accompanies
those essential truths in the hearts of men. But amongst nations possessed of scientific
culture, in which the previous civilization is found in the service of a religion
hostile to Christianity, a science which renders homage to the Cross and to the
spirit of the Gospel, may become an important means of transition to Christianity.
The example of Paul proves this, as well as many examples in the first centuries.
And in this relation, Raymond Lull is worthy of mention, a man of high intellect,
who called the attention of his contemporaries to
Raymond Lull was born on the island of Majorca, in the year 1236.
Until his thirtieth year he led an entirely wordly life at the court of the king
of the Balearic Isles, without any higher aims. Even after his marriage, he continued
to indulge his passions in disregard of the marriage tie. His poems were inspired
by sensual love. He himself, in his work on the contemplation of God, thus bewails
the loss of the first half of his life; “As, O Lord, we first see the trees bring
forth leaves and twigs, and then flowers, and after the flowers fruits, a sign is
hereby given to us that we should first display the tokens of a good life, and,
then good works: as we see the flowers follow the leaves, and afterwards the fruit
succeed the flower, so also the results which flow from our good deeds should be
seen. If those trees are beautiful and good which bring forth leaves, branches,
flowers, and fruits, how much better and more beautiful are men when they perform
works of love, praising their Lord, their Maker and their God. Trees and plants
obey the law of their destiny in that which they do,—step by step bringing forth
leaves, and flowers, and fruits; but with us it is not so, but we do the opposite,
for we see daily that men do in their youth what they should do in old age, and
Thus he became assured that it was God’s will that he should leave the world and devote himself with his whole heart to the service of Christ.
Resolved, therefore, to consecrate himself wholly to the service of Christ, he began to take counsel with himself as to the best mode of doing this,—and he attained the firm conviction that there could be no work more acceptable to the Lord Christ than to sacrifice his life in the proclamation of the Gospel, and hence his thoughts were especially directed to the Saracens, whom the Crusaders had vainly endeavoured to subject to the power of the sword. But then the thought occurred to him how could he, an unlearned layman, be capable of such a work. Whilst he was filled with deep grief on this account, the idea seized him of writing a book which should tend to manifest the truth in opposition to all the errors of infidels. He believed this to be a Divine call, (and this was of importance as regarded the direction which his deep meditations thenceforth took,) to show the harmony between the revealed truths of the faith and what is founded in the nature of the human mind.
The heavenly power of love by which he was now penetrated, also
gave a new impulse to his thoughts. Yet he questioned himself further, even if he
should succeed in writing such a book, what use would it be to the Saracens, who
understood no language but Arabic? Thus, the plan developed itself in him of applying
to the Pope and the Christian princes to found schools in the convents, for
As Raymond Lull was not able to institute, as he wished, an association
for this holy enterprise, he felt himself constrained to go forth alone amongst
the infidels, and in the year 1287 he sailed to Genoa, in order to cross thence
to Northern Africa. As people had heard so much of the remarkable change that had
taken place in him, of his fervent zeal for the conversion of the infidels, and
of his new, and according to his idea, so promising method of conversion, his project
excited high expectations. But he had yet many a severe conflict to pass
When, at the close of the year 1291, or at the beginning of the
year 1292, he arrived at Tunis, he assembled the Mohammedan doctors, and declared
to them that he was come in order to institute a comparison between Christianity,
with which he was thoroughly acquainted, and which he had excellent arguments to
defend, and Mohammedanism. If he found the arguments in favour of Mohammedanism
the stronger, he would become a convert to it. A great number of Mohammedan doctors
assembled, hoping to succeed in converting him to
During his sojourn in Rome with that object, in the year 1296,
Raymond Lull composed a book which was also connected with his interest in missions,
in which he sought to state the fundamental truths of Christianity in an incontrovertible
manner. If he esteemed his arguments too highly, it was the strength of his faith
which caused him to rely on them so confidently. We cannot but sincerely admire
the firmness of his conviction that there must be no dissension in the soul of man—that
the truth, which was the highest thing for him, must correspond to all the wants
of his spirit, and be in harmony with his reason and his heart. He says at the close
of this book, “We have composed this treatise that
As he was thus hindered from attaining his object in Rome, he laboured through a series of years wherever occasion called him. He sought to convince the Saracens and Jews on the island of Majorca by his arguments. He went to the island of Cyprus and thence to Armenia, endeavouring to restore the various divided parties of the Oriental Church to orthodoxy. He undertook all these things alone, only accompanied by one attendant, without being able to gain the support he desired from the powerful and influential. In the intervals of his journeys, he delivered lectures on his system at the French and Italian universities, and wrote books.
Either in the year 1806 or 1307 he again sailed for North Africa,
and proceeded to the city of Buggia, which was then the metropolis of a Mohammedan
kingdom. He came boldly forward, and declared in Arabic that Christianity was the
only true religion, and that Mohammedanism was false. This he was ready to prove
to any one. A great multitude of people gathered around him, and he addressed exhortations
to the assembly.
And after speaking of the great peril which threatened Christendom
from the infidels, he makes some propositions for defence. One was, that four or
five convents should be founded in perpetuity, in which monks and learned secular
priests who were ready to sacrifice their lives for the glory of God might learn
the languages of the infidels, and then go forth into the whole world, as Christ
had commanded, and preach the Gospel. The second proposition referred to the union
of the various religious orders of knighthood into one, for the recovery of the
lands wrested from Christendom by the infidels; with a further scheme how best to
He is constantly lamenting, that men should seek the Lord in outward
things and endeavour to glorify Him by them alone, and He points from the outward
to the inward. “He who will find thee,
We will, in conclusion, collect some short axioms in which the
deep fervent spirit of this man expresses itself,—words which contain in them a
whole world, and into which we must ever dive more deeply in order rightly to understand
them, and thus shall discover more and more in them. “He who loves not, lives not;
he who lives by the Life cannot die.” “He who gives his friend love gives him more
than gold. He who gives not, lives not. He who gives love, gives what he gives to
himself.” “All gold is not to be compared with one sigh of holy desire. The more
a man desires, the more he lives. To be destitute of desire is to die. Long and
thou wilt live. He is not poor who desires; he lives sadly who lives without desire.”
“A holy hermit stands higher in the sight of God than a
On the 14th of August, 1314, he once more sailed over to Africa.
He repaired to Buggia, and at first laboured there in secret amongst the little
band, whom, during his last sojourn there, he had gained over to Christianity. He
sought to strengthen their faith, and to lead them on in Christian knowledge. He
might have continued to labour on a while in quietness; but he could not resist
his longing for the martyr’s death. He came forward publicly with the declaration
that he was the same man who had formerly been banished from the country. He exhorted
the people with menaces of the Divine vengeance, to abandon Mohammedanism. The Saracens
fell furiously upon him, and after much ill usage he was dragged out of the city
and stoned by order of the king. According to one account, some merchants from Majorca
obtained permission to remove the body of their countryman from the heap of stones
under
Leviticus
1 Samuel
2 Samuel
2 Kings
Psalms
34:1-22 34:9 37:25 38:8 39:1 40:4 55:23 73:27 90:1 113:5 118:8 119:78 149:1-9
Proverbs
Ecclesiastes
Song of Solomon
Isaiah
Jeremiah
Ezekiel
Joel
Malachi
Matthew
5:44 7:12 9:17 10:9 10:10 10:19 10:23 10:28 19:18 20:9 20:22 28:19
Luke
3:40 8:44 10:5 11:26 13:2 22:35 23:40
John
Acts
Romans
5:6 7:9 8:24 8:24 10:14 13:7 15:4
1 Corinthians
Galatians
Ephesians
Colossians
1 Thessalonians
1 Timothy
James
1 Peter
1 John
Revelation
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 121 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 136 137 138 139 140 141 142 143 144 145 146 147 148 149 150 150 151 152 153 154 155 156 157 158 159 160 161 162 163 164 165 166 167 168 169 170 171 172 173 174 175 176 177 178 179 180 181 182 183 184 185 186 187 188 189 190 191 192 193 194 195 196 197 198 199 200 201 202 203 204 205 206 207 208 209 210 211 212 213 214 215 216 217 218 219 220 221 222 223 224 225 226 226 228 229 230 231 232 233 234 235 236 237 238 239 240 241 242 243 244 245 246 247 248 249 250 251 252 253 254 255 256 257 258 259 260 261 262 263 264 265 266 267 268 269 270 271 272 273 274 275 276 277 278 279 280 281 282 283 284 285 286 287 288 289 290 291 292 293 294 295 296 297 298 299 300 301 302 303 304 305 306 307 308 309 310 311 312 313 314 315 316 317 318 319 320 321 322 323 324 325 326 327 328 329 330 331 332 333 334 335 336 337 338 339 340 341 342 343 344