ANSELM, THE MONK ARCHBISHOP (A.D. 1093).
In the twelfth century the greatest theologian was said to be Anselm, bred a monk in the monastery of Bec, in Normandy. He soon became prior and afterwards abbot, and was the life and soul of all the best monkish work. He objected to the rigorous discipline to which monks were subjected. He also had an insight into the mode of educating children by kindly methods instead of brutalising them by tyrannical punishments. To show his mastery of this new method, he reclaimed one of the most stubborn and intractable boys, so that this youth, named Osbern, became greatly attached to his master, who in turn, when the youth contracted a fatal disease, nursed him night and day. In 1093 he was made Archbishop of Canterbury, but he became entangled in the contests of the time, as he thought the Church should be independent of kings; and incurring too much risk, he took refuge with the Pope, and travelled about France and Italy, always distinguishing himself by works of piety till he died in 1109. He retained through life his austere and self-mortifying habits as to food, so that Queen Matilda wrote to him a letter strongly pressing upon him the necessity of avoiding excessive abstinence as destructive to his powers of doing good. He was noted for his placidity of mind, and his constant attempts to meditate on the deeper problems of the Christian life. It is said that, on meditating about the gift of prophecy when he was prior of Bec, he awoke early, and he became so absorbed in this mystery that he at last himself actually saw through the wall all the preparations going on for Mass in the next building, and hence he said it was easy for God to reveal the future in the same way to chosen servants. On another occasion he fell into a trance, and during the celebration of vigils solved to his own satisfaction some mysteries that had long baffled his researches, he being for a time in a grand ecstasy of supernatural intuition. He also distinguished himself in his controversies with the schoolmen as the most expert and orthodox theologian of his age.
DEATHBED OF ARCHBISHOP ANSELM (A.D. 1109).
Before Archbishop Anselm died in 1109, at the age of seventy-six, he lay down in his last illness, and one of the priests who stood around his bed said to him, it being then Palm Sunday, “Lord father, it appears to us that, leaving this world, you are about to keep the passover in the palace of your Lord.” The ambitious theologian replied, “If indeed this be His will, I gainsay it not. But if He should choose that I should yet remain among you at least long enough to settle the question which I am revolving in my mind concerning the origin of the soul, I should take it gratefully, because I do not know whether any one will be able to determine it after I am dead. If I could but eat I might hope to recover, for I feel no pain in any part, except that, as my stomach sinks for lack of food which it is unable to take, I am failing all over.”
A SARACEN KING BY DIVINE RIGHT (A.D. 1130).
When El Mehedi, one of the Arab kings in Spain, died in 1130, his vizier, Abdelmumen Aben Ali, contrived to be named his successor, and vindicated his Divine right by the following artifice. The premier kept the King’s death concealed for three years, and meanwhile taught a parrot to utter various little speeches. He also brought up a young lion to fawn upon him and caress him. He prepared a proper cage for the bird, and a proper hiding-place for the lion in a large hall, when he invited the chief nobles to meet and consult about the royal demise. He announced the death of the King, which gave rise to great lamentations, and then harangued them with great propriety and due acknowledgments of the Divine mercy in teaching the value of harmony and union against their enemies. He then remained silent, and the nobles being greatly perplexed and undecided, suddenly, as if by some Divine intuition, the bird spoke these words: “Honour, victory, and power to our lord the Caliph Abdelmumen, Prince of the Faithful; he is the defence and support of the Empire.” At the same moment a fierce lion bounded out of a hole into the middle of the hall, lashing its tail and glaring at the company, to the terror of all, when the vizier, calmly advancing, faced the monster, which at once succumbed, and caressed him and licked his hands. The nobles were at once confounded; and treating these demonstrations as the voice of the Divine will, took the oath of allegiance. This king became one of the most illustrious in Spain, who brought nearly the whole country under his rule, as well as the dependencies in Africa, and he carried on the Holy War against the Infidels, as the Christian rebel princes were then called. He reigned thirty-three years, and died in 1164.
DEATHBED OF ARCHBISHOP TURSTIN (A.D. 1140).
Archbishop Turstin of York, in 1138, though so old and feeble that he had to be carried in a litter, had energy enough to rouse and summon the nobles of Yorkshire to resist an irruption of Scots under King David. After a fast of three days they all swore a solemn oath to fight, and they easily defeated the Scots. John of Hexham says that the archbishop adhered to monastic usages; he was frequent in prayers, and had from God the grace of tears in the celebration of Masses. He wore a shirt of haircloth, and amid frequent confessions did not spare himself from corporal castigation. He was the founder of the monastery of Fountains, and watched over the monks, and was bountiful in offerings to the church of York. Feeling at last in 1140 that the vigour of life was growing weak in him, he wisely set his house in order, paying his servants’ wages, restoring what had been taken away, and taking thought about each separate matter. Having assembled in his chapel the priests of the church of York, and solemnly made confession before them, he stretched himself naked on the ground before the altar of St. Andrew, and received from them the discipline of corporal chastisement with tears flowing from a contrite heart; and mindful of the vow which as a young man he had made at Clugny, he went to the monks of the Clugniac order at Pontefract, the elders of the church of York and many of the laity accompanying him; and there he solemnly received the habit and benediction of a monk, and during the remaining days of his life he was intent on the salvation of his soul. At last, surrounded by religious men, as the hour of his summons drew near he himself celebrated nine vigils for the departed, and himself read the lesson, gave the verse of the response, Dies illa, dies iræ, laying a mournful and significant emphasis on each word; and at the end of lauds, the monks being all assembled, he yielded up his spirit. He was buried with becoming honour before the high altar. Many years after, the monks in carrying out repairs required to remove the stone over his tomb, and neither his corpse nor his vestments showed any appearance of corruption.
KING JOHN SHOCKING THE BISHOP IN CHURCH (A.D. 1199).
When King John succeeded to the English crown in 1199, he at once sent for Hugh, Bishop of Lincoln, and made much of him, promising to be guided by his directions. For two or three days John’s conduct in public was very decorous; but the biographer of Hugh relates that the very next (Easter) Sunday John attended church, when the chamberlain, according to custom, put twelve pieces of gold in John’s hand to be presented to the bishop. John, instead of giving it, held the coins in his hand, rattling them about, to the astonishment of the attendant nobles. Hugh indignantly asked why this noise was made, when John replied, “In truth, I am looking at these pieces of gold, and thinking that if I had got them a few days since, I should not have given them to you at all, but put them in my own purse.” Hugh drew back, refusing to touch the gold, nor suffering his hand to be kissed by John, bidding him put the money in the offertory dish, and withdrew. After this, Hugh preached a long sermon containing much specially intended for John’s benefit about good and bad princes. While all others acclaimed, John was exceedingly wearied. Three times he sent messages to Hugh, insisting on his coming to an end and allowing him to get away and break his long fast. He at last hurried away without partaking of the Sacrament, and it was said he had not received it since he had attained the years of discretion. John did the same thing at his coronation on Ascension Day.