MONKERY BECOMING WORKED OUT.
By the twelfth century the status of monk was beginning to deteriorate. The fine theories on which it started lost hold, and demoralisation was setting in. The loose way of admitting all and sundry led to a difficulty in keeping strict control. It used to be said they began to steal each other’s clothes and cups and little articles of property. It is said that in the abbey of St. Tron, about 1200, each monk had a locked cupboard behind his seat in the refectory, wherein he carefully secured his napkin, spoon, cup, and dish. Even the bedclothes were not safe. Then so many went about traversing every corner of Christendom, bearded and tonsured and wearing the religious habit, living by begging and imposture, and peddling false relics, that the very name of monk became a term of contempt. Yet William of Newburgh says that under Stephen’s short reign (1135-1154) more monasteries were founded in England than during the hundred years preceding.
THE WAR OF THE NUNS OF BASLE (A.D. 1430).
About 1297 a convent was established at Little Basle called the Sisters of Klurgenthal, who during the next century acquired great reputation, not so much from the austerity of their rules as for their wealthy connections among all the nobles of the district. The prior of a Dominican monastery in Basle was the advocate of the sisterhood; but they had long felt this a grievous burden, and they resolved to get rid of the interference of the monks. About 1430, one day, the friar called, when they barred him out, and let him know he need not show his face again within the house. The indignant monks then spread abroad rumours of the luxurious dresses, habits, and loose living of the sisters, and even slandered their characters and invoked the interference of the Pope to put down the scandal thereby created. The Pope sent commissioners, who felt it their duty to hold a solemn inquiry into the allegations against their dissipated and ungodly lives. The ladies demurely listened to the papal commissioner, and then retired without saying a word; but a few minutes later they each and all returned, armed with every kitchen implement they could find, and belaboured right and left the commissioners, who in their terror fled, leaving the papal bull behind them, and with their clothes torn off their backs. This appalling treason shocked the papal authorities, who ordered the sisters to be expelled and stripped of their possessions. One or two of the sisters who professed to be shocked at their companions begged to be allowed to remain till they could get their things put together; and during this interval, which was extended on one pretext or another to months, they appealed to their noble cousins, brothers, and relatives to come to their rescue, and they even procured the support of the Emperor to their claims. The nobles did so, and with a large body of retainers so contrived that the Pope had to consent to an arbitration to settle all matters in difference with the jealous and rapacious monks who longed to succeed to the nuns’ possessions. So skilfully was the rest of the war directed on the part of the nuns that they practically reversed the adverse judgment, and were restored to all that they had lost, returning with pomp like deposed queens, and they became more powerful and kept up a more brilliant establishment than ever.
ONE MONK STEALING ANOTHER MONK’S FOOD.
It is related by Ruffinus that a monk was in the habit of coming to the cell of a holy anchorite and secretly stealing his food; and although the latter knew of it, still, in order to subdue himself, he made as if he perceived him not, and exerted himself to work more diligently in order to repair his loss. He thus reasoned with himself: “God hath sent me aforetime that which I needed, and this brother too will be a blessing to me.” And having sustained this tribulation a long time, his strength failed, and he was dying. And many brethren stood around looking upon him; and seeing among them the brother who had for so long a time stolen his bread, he called him to his side and kissed his hands, and said before them all, “I render thanks to these hands, my brethren, for by means of them I trust to enter Paradise.” On hearing and understanding this, that brother took shame to himself, and was touched with remorse, changed his life, did heavy penance for his sins, and became a perfect monk through the example of the holy father who had died.
A MONKISH MODE OF DECIDING ON CREEDS (A.D. 680).
When the Monothelite heresy arose and disturbed the Church—namely, the doctrine that Christ had only one will, though He had the human and Godlike natures separate—the sixth general council of the Church was held at Constantinople in 680 to settle it. A monk named Polychronius, and a resolute Monothelite, rose and challenged the council to put the doctrine to the test of a miracle. He proposed to lay his creed on a dead body: if the dead rose not, he surrendered himself to the will of the Emperor. A body accordingly was brought into a neighbouring bath. The Emperor, the ministers, the whole council, and a wondering multitude adjourned to this place. Polychronius presented a sealed paper, which was opened and read; it declared his creed, and that he had been commanded in a vision to hasten to Constantinople to prevent the Emperor from establishing heresy. The paper was laid on the corpse; Polychronius sat whispering into its ear; and the patient assembly awaited the issue for some hours. But the obstinate dead would not come to life. A unanimous anathema was then pronounced, condemning Polychronius as a heretic and deceiver; and he was degraded from his functions. The council then anathematised all round who thereafter disbelieved the doctrine that there were two wills and two operations in Christ’s nature.
A MONK INTERCEDING FOR PRISONERS (A.D. 460).
The monk Severinus, in the fifth century, was asked to intercede for some Roman subjects who were condemned to hard labour by Gisa, Queen of the Rugii. She made an angry answer, and bade the monk to be gone to his cell to his prayers, and not presume to interfere with her doing as she pleased with her own prisoners. Not long afterwards she issued harsh orders to some goldsmiths who were imprisoned, and compelled to work beyond their strength, in order to complete some royal ornaments which she required. By accident her little son one day strayed into the prison, whereupon the prisoners seized him and threatened that, as they were tired of life and reckless of consequences, they would first kill the child and then themselves, unless some royal messenger was sent to assure them of their immediate release. The Queen, filled with alarm, was conscience-struck, and acknowledged the Divine retribution thus prepared for her. She acceded to the prisoners’ demands, and not only released the men, but she sent to Severinus to entreat his forgiveness for the way in which she had neglected his admonitions.