Geoffry was succeeded by Ralph de Gobium in the year 1143: he was a monk remarkable for his learning and his bibliomanical pursuits. He formerly remained some time in the services of Alexander, bishop of Lincoln, and gained the esteem of that prelate. His book-loving passion arose from hearing one "Master Wodon, of Italy, expound the doctrines of the Holy Scriptures." He from that time became a most enthusiastic amator librorum; and collected, with great diligence, an abundant multitude of books.[394]
The matters in which he was concerned, his donations to the monastery, and the anecdotes of his life, are all unconnected with my subject; so that I am obliged to pass from this interesting monk, an undoubted bibliophile, from sheer want of information. I cannot but regret that the historian does not inform us more fully of his book collecting pursuits; but he is especially barren on that subject, although he highly esteems him for prosecuting that pleasing avocation. He died in the year 1151, in the fourteenth of King Stephen, and was followed by Robert de Gorham, who is also commemorated as a bibliophile in the pages of the Cotton manuscripts; and to judge from his portrait, and the intensity with which he pores over his volume, he was a hard and devoted student. He ordered the scribes to make a great many books; indeed, adds Paris the historian, who was himself somewhat of an amator librorum, "more by far than can be mentioned."[395] From another source we learn that these books were most sumptuously bound.[396]
During the days of this learned abbot a devout and humble clerk asked admission at the abbey gate. Aspiring to a holy life, he ardently hoped, by thus spending his days in monastic seclusion, to render his heart more acceptable to God. Hearing his prayer, the monks conducted him into the presence of my Lord Abbot, who received him with compassionate tenderness, and kindly questioned him as to his qualifications for the duties and sacred responsibilities of the monkish priesthood; for even in those dark ages they looked a little into the learning of the applicant before he was admitted into their fraternity. But alas! the poor clerk was found wofully deficient in this respect, and was incapable of replying to the questions of my Lord Abbot, who thereupon gently answered, "My son, tarry awhile, and still exercise thyself in study, and so become more perfect for the holy office."
Abashed and disappointed, he retired with a kindling blush of shame; and deeming this temporary repulse a positive refusal he left his fatherland, and started on a pilgrimage to France.[397] And who was this poor, humble, unlettered clerk? Who this simple layman, whose ignorance rendered him an unfit socius for the plodding monks of old St. Albans Abbey? No less than the English born Nicholas Brekespere, afterwards his Holiness Adrian IV., Pope of Rome, Vicar-apostolic and successor of St. Peter!
Yes; still bearing in mind the kind yet keen reproof of the English abbot, on his arrival in a foreign land he studied with all the depth and intensity of despair, and soon surpassed his companions in the pursuit of knowledge; and became so renowned for learning, and for his prudence, that he was made Canon of St. Rufus. His sagacity, moreover, caused him to be chosen, on three separate occasions, to undertake some important embassies to the apostolic see; and at length he was elected a cardinal. So step by step he finally became elevated to the high dignity of the popedom. The first and last of England's sons who held the keys of Peter.
These shadows of the past—these shreds of a forgotten age—these echoes of five hundred years, are full of interest and instruction. For where shall we find a finer example—a more cheering instance of what perseverance will accomplish—or a more satisfactory result of the pursuit of knowledge under difficulties? Not only may these curious facts cheer the dull student now, and inspire him with that energy so essential to success, but these whisperings of old may serve as lessons for ages yet to come. For if we look back upon those dark days with such feelings of superiority, may not the wiser generations of the future regard us with a still more contemptuous, yet curious eye? And when they look back at our Franklins, and our Johnsons, in astonishment at such fine instances of what perseverance could do, and what energy and plodding industry could accomplish, even when surrounded with the difficulties of our ignorance; how much more will they praise this bright example, in the dark background of the historical tableaux, who, without even our means of obtaining knowledge—our libraries or our talent—rose by patient, hard and devoted study, from Brekespere the humble clerk—the rejected of St. Albans—to the proud title of Vicar-apostolic of Christ and Pope of Rome!
Simon, an Englishman, a clerk and a "man of letters and good morals," was elected abbot in the year 1167. All my authorities concur in bestowing upon him the honor and praise appertaining to a bibliomaniac. He was, says one, an especial lover of books, librorum amator speciales: and another in panegyric terms still further dubs him an amator scripturarum. All this he proved, and well earned the distinction, by the great encouragement he gave to the collecting and transcribing of books. The monkish pens he found moving too slow, and yielding less fruit than formerly. He soon, however, set them hard at work again; and to facilitate their labors, he added materially to the comforts of the Scriptorium by repairing and enlarging it; "and always," says the monk from whom I learn this, "kept two or three most choice scribes in the Camera (Scriptorium,) who sustained its reputation, and from whence an abundant supply of the most excellent books were continually produced.[398] He framed some efficient laws for its management, and ordered that, in subsequent times, every abbot should keep and support one able scribe at least. Among the 'many choice books and authentic volumes,' volumina authentica, which he by this care and industry added to the abbey library, was included a splendid copy of the Old and New Testament, transcribed with great accuracy and beautifully written—indeed, says the manuscript history of that monastery, so noble a copy was nowhere else to be seen.[399] But besides this, Abbot Simon gave them all those precious books which he had been for a 'long time' collecting himself at great cost and patient labor, and having bound them in a sumptuous and marvellous manner,[400] he made a library for their reception near the tomb of Roger the Hermit.[401] He also bestowed many rich ornaments and much costly plate on the monastery; and by a long catalogue of good deeds, too ample to be inserted here, he gained the affections and gratitude of his fraternity, who loudly praised his virtues and lamented his loss when they laid him in his costly tomb. There is a curious illumination of this monkish bibliophile in the Cotton manuscript. He is represented deeply engaged with his studies amidst a number of massy volumes, and a huge trunk is there before him crammed with rough old fashioned large clasped tomes, quite enticing to look upon."[402]
After Simon came Garinus, who was soon succeeded by one John. Our attention is arrested by the learned renown of this abbot, who had studied in his youth at Paris, and obtained the unanimous praise of his masters for his assiduous attention and studious industry. He returned with these high honors, and was esteemed in grammar a Priscian, in poetry an Ovid, and in physic equal to Galen.[403] With such literary qualifications, it was to be expected the Scriptorium would flourish under his government, and the library increase under his fostering care. Our expectations are not disappointed; for many valuable additions were made during his abbacy, and the monks over whom he presided gave many manifestations of refinement and artistic talent, which incline us to regard the ingenuity of the cloisters in a more favorable light. Raymond, his prior, was a great help in all these undertakings. His industry seems to have been unceasing in beautifying the church, and looking after the transcription of books. With the assistance of Roger de Parco, the cellarer, he made a large table very handsome, and partly fabricated of metal. He wrote two copies of the Gospels, and bound them in silver and gold adorned with various figures. Brother Walter of Colchester, with Randulph, Gubium and others, produced some very handsome paintings comprising the evangelists and many holy saints, and hung them up in the church. "As we have before mentioned, by the care and industry of the lord Raymond, many noble and useful books were transcribed and given to the monastery. The most remarkable of these was a Historia Scholastica, with allegorics, a most elegant book—liber elegantissimus exclaims my monkish authority."[404] This leads me to say something more of my lord prior, for the troubles which the conscientious conduct of old Raymond brought upon himself—
"Implores the passing tribute of a sigh."
Be it known then that William de Trompington succeeded to the abbacy on the death of John; but he was a very different man, without much esteem for learning; and thinking I am afraid far more of the world and heaven or the Domus Dei. Alas! memoirs of bad monks and worldly abbots are sometimes found blotting the holy pages of the monkish annals. Domus Dei est porta cœli, said the monks; and when they closed the convent gates they did not look back on the world again, but entered on that dull and gloomy path with a full conviction that they were leaving all and following Christ, and so acting in accordance with his admonitions; but those who sought the convent to forget in its solitude their worldly cares and worldly disappointments, too often found how futile and how ineffectual was that dismal life to eradicate the grief of an overburdened heart, or to subdue the violence of misguided temper. The austerity of the monastic rules might tend to conquer passion or moderate despair, but there was little within those walls to drive painful recollections of the outward world away; for at every interval between their holy meditations and their monkish duties, images of the earth would crowd back upon their minds, and wring from their ascetic hearts tributes of anguish and despair; and so we find the writings and letters of the old monks full of vain regrets and misanthropic thoughts, but sometimes overflowing with the most touching pathos of human misery. Yet the monk knew full well what his duty was, and knew how sinful it was to repine or rebel against the will of God. If he vowed obedience to his abbot, he did not forget that obedience was doubly due to Him; and strove with all the strength that weak humanity could muster, to forget the darkness of the past by looking forward with a pious hope and a lively faith to the brightness and glory of the future. By constant prayer the monk thought more of his God, and gained help to strengthen the faith within him; and by assiduous and devoted study he disciplined his heart of flesh—tore from it what lingering affection for the world remained, and deserting all love of earth and all love of kin, purged and purified it for his holy calling, and closed its portals to render it inaccessible to all sympathy of blood. If a thought of those shut out from him by the monastic walls stole across his soul and mingled with his prayer, he started and trembled as if he had offered up an unholy desire in the supplication. To him it was a proof that his nature was not yet subdued; and a day of study and meditation, with a fast unbroken till the rays of the morrow's sun cast their light around his little cell, absolved the sin, and broke the tie that bound him to the world without.
