upon us like the voice of an angel, or the trump of judg ment: Sumunt boni, sumunt mali, sorte tamen inæquali Vitæ vel interitus. Mors est malis, vita bonis, vide paris sumptionis No longer was wisdom confined within the groves of Academus, or peace to the learned disciples of philosophy. What the deputies of Ghent said in their address to Charles the Bold, when they entreated pardon, was true in a greater or less degree of every Catholic city: "Gand n'est pas comme Sodome et Gomorre, que pour dix justes, qui les y eust peu trouver, Dieu eust épargné de son jugement horrible. En Gand a par nombre de milliers dévotes et saintes créatures, espoir, et qui ont divines revelacions maintes par bonté de vie et divines communications en solitude."1 Hence Father Lewis of Grenada concludes, when speaking of the multitudes who have gone astray from the path of God, "After all, St. John teaches us that the company of the blessed will be so great, that no man is able to count them; and we are assured that those who have kept their innocence, or who shall have done worthy penance for their sins, will be received into that company.' "2 Not only did religion impart to men the true needful wisdom, but it also inspired those in the humbler ranks with the gentleness and even the honourable feelings and lofty sentiments of chivalry, while it protected men of learning and science from giving credit to those extravagant absurdities, from the admission of which we find not unfrequently in the present day that no learning or science can preserve them. XX. We have seen long since with what zeal and attention knights and temporal men assisted at the divine offices. Many dark scenes of history give evidence of this religious observance. Thus it was at the foot of the altar in a church at Viterbo, that Henry, son of Richard, Earl of Cornwall and King of the Romans, was murdered in the year 1271, by Gui, Comte de Montfort, son of Simon de Montfort, Earl of Leicester, belonging to the two kingdoms of England and France, who thus revenged the death of his 'Chronique des Ducs de Bourgogne, par Georges Chastellain, tom. i. chap. cclx. 2 Catechism, ii. 30. father slain in battle against Henry III., King of England. It was while praying before the altar at vigils, in the church of St. Laurence, that Drogon de Coutances, son of Tancred de Hauteville, was assassinated by Gnazon, Count of Naples. It was one evening while travelling, during his bitter misfortunes, that the brave young Prince René II. of Lorraine, having entered an old church, and being in prayer, a woman covered with a long veil approached him in silence, made a low reverence, and passed into his hand a purse of gold, and disappeared. Castiglione relates, that at Rome a young and beautiful Roman lady, though for a long time followed by one who professed love, never favoured him with so much as a look. At last he found means to bribe her woman, who, one day which was not a festival, persuaded her mistress to visit St. Sebastian's church, and she led her into one of those dark grottos which are commonly visited in that church. There the man was concealed; and finding that all his prayers were vain, fearing the consequence, with the assistance of the woman, he strangled the unhappy lady, and there left her, and fled, and was never heard of; but the woman, being apprehended, confessed.1 On the steeple of St. Hilaire, at Poitiers, a lantern used to be placed, on certain festivals, to direct the pilgrims and others who sought to assist at matins; and in the steeple of All-Saints' church, at York, a large lamp used formerly to be suspended for the same purpose, as a mark for those who were passing the immense forest of Galtres. King Alfred, when he was riding, used to dismount and go into the churches, and make his offering, and hear the office. Many of the old knights chose for their motto “Dilexi decorem domus tuæ." St. Louis made his children every day hear matins, vespers, and complin, haultement en note, et vouloit qu'ils fussent au sermon pour entendre la parolle de Dieu. They were also to say the office of our Lady, and to study "pour entendre les escriptures." In Gerard de Roussillon, when Peter de Monrabey arrives at the castle of Roussillon, he passes over the first bridge into the court, rides under the arch of the portcullis, gives his sword to his page, and then goes into the chapel to perform his devotions. In the regulations of Henry Percy, the fifth 1 Lib. iii. 313. Earl of Northumberland, in 1512, mass is ordered to be said at six o'clock every morning, that all my lord's servants may rise early. There were seven priests in the house, besides seventeen chanters and other persons belonging to the chapel. The Duke of Burgundy's chapel was served by forty persons, monks and priests, chaplains and organist. The alms often exceeded 20,000 livres a year. St. Chrysostom advised rich men to build little chapels and oratories on their estates. So Gilles de Rome says in his Mirror, "the prince should have an oratory in the upper part of his house, where he might withdraw privately, and remain in silence. Justinian forbade mass to be celebrated in private chapels; but his decree was either never, or for a very short time, observed.2 In the 13th century it was usual with German nobles to give freedom to some of their vassals, who, being ordained, might recite the canonical hours in a private chapel. When Louis IX. was taken prisoner by the Sarrassins, the first day, when the hour of vespers came, he asked for his book to say vespers as he was accustomed; but no one could give it to him, for it was lost with the harness; and as the king thought of it and was sad, some one brought it to him, at which the men wondered.3 Many knights and temporal men were in habits of saying the regular office for each day. In palaces and in dungeons they loved to hear these holy words, like St. Peter Celestin, who expired in the cell of his prison in the citadel of Fumona, as he finished the last psalm of lauds, with the words, "Omnis spiritus laudet Dominum." Some pretended philosophers at Venice thought proper to deliberate gravely about Petrarch's literary attainments, and to determine that he was a good man; but virum sine litteris. "I passed for learned in my youth," replied Petrarch, “and now in my old age I am, it seems, ignorant; yet they say am a good man. Well, I care little for what they take from me, as long as I really possess what they leave to me. Gladly would I make the exchange with my judges let them be learned, and let me be virtuous. It is enough learning for me if I am able to repeat my breviary."4 The Olivier de la Marche, L'Estat de la Maison du Duc Charles. 2 Thomassin, i. 2. 93. 3 Chronique de St. Denis, ii. 71. De Ignorantia sui ipsius. I beautiful German ballad of Fridolin by Schiller, has revived the memory of that virtuous page of St. Isabella of Portugal, who, by stopping on his way to hear the entire mass, was preserved from the cruel fate which his envious companions had prepared for him. There was a beauty and a sublime solemnity in the offices of the Church, which could attract even men of rude and desperate lives. Among the free companies which overran France in the 14th century, it was not uncommon to meet with priests who had been forcibly carried off to celebrate mass before these adventurers, who, in a distracted state of society, might have been insensible to the disorder of their own lives. Even Robin Hood, so merry and free, is represented as taking delight in the offices of the Church. "De quo quædam commendabilia recitantur-missam devotissime audiret, nec aliqua necessitate volebat interrumpere officium."1 Thus in the old ballad: " 'It was on Whitsunday, a lovely morning in May, as the sun rose so beautiful, and the small fowl sung so sweet. "This is a merry morning," said little John, "Pluck up thy heart, my dear maistre, and consider there is not in the year a more lovely season than a May morning." "The on thing greves me," said Robin, "And doth my hert mych woe." It was This was that he could not hear mass or matins. fifteen days and more since he had entered a church, and now, through our Lady's grace, he would go to Nottingham. Little John remains in the forest of Sherwood, while Robin Hood goes into St. Mary's Church at Nottingham.2 For men of all conditions, the public offices of the Church, those sacred hymns and psalms, which St. Augustine calls the voice of the whole Church, "totius ecclesiæ vox una," had a powerful charm. Charlemagne, who loved them, had spread the observance of the Gregorian chant throughout his empire; but it was not till the time of René 1 Forduni Hist. p. 774. 2 Jamieson's Popular Songs, ii. 3 Prol. in Psalm. d'Anjou that music of rich harmony was introduced into the solemnities of the Church. A mass in music composed by this excellent prince is still occasionally performed at Aix. Christine de Pisan says of King Charles V., "il moult amoit le service d'esglise, et se délictoit à l'oyr célébrer en chant solemnel." So, again, the old minstrel, in his romance called the Squyr of Low Degre, makes a king enumerate the gratifications which he intends to procure for his daughter, and to say, after her hawking, Then shall ye go to your even song, Your censers shall be of gold, Indent with azure many a fold; Your choir nor organ-song shall want, With counter-note and descant, The other half on organs playing, With young children full fair singing.1 They could not dispense with the remembrance of this resource, even in their festive hours. At the great banquet in Lille, in the year 1433, described by Olivier de la Marche, in the middle of the table there was a great church, with windows and a tower, and bells tolling, and four singers and choristers singing une très doulce chanson; and during dinner the organ in the church was heard playing. Hence arose a danger which the clergy were careful to guard men against, saying that "among those who take God's name in vain, are ceux qui chantent les pseaumes, hymnes, et les cantiques pour le plaisir qu'il y a en la musique et pour passer le temps, et non pour rendre louanges à Dieu."" At the Council of Trent it was even debated whether any music but the Gregorian chant should be permitted. But there is a strong evidence to justify the belief, that in general these fears were ungrounded, and that it was really a devout feeling which attached men to these solemnities. Speaking of these holy exercises, Lewis Granadensis goes so far as to say, "Shew me a single person who, in practising them and 1 Ellis's Specimens, i. 342. 2 Recueil sur les dix Commandemens de Dieu, par Monluc, Evesque de Valence, Paris, 1555. |