The monastic “Family” included priests, deacons, minor clerics, and lay brethren, who all yielded implicit obedience to the Abbot as to the representative of God in their regard. The life of the community was a ‘warfare;’ they were soldiers of Christ, and hence were to be trained and armed for this spiritual combat. Therefore they stripped themselves of the encumbrance of worldly goods, and entered the ‘arena’ quite ‘naked.’ They were obedient to the voice of the general, and always ready to sacrifice their lives for Christ. Their obedience was like that of Christ—an obedience unto death. St. Brendan once told one of his monks to go to save another who was sinking, and die in his stead. The monk did so without a murmur—the brother was saved but the rescuer perished.[113]
The Rule of St. Columba prescribes absolute nakedness from worldly goods in imitation of Christ. No brother could possess anything of his own—everything was in common. The community itself was poor; the inmates were to be content with the bare necessaries of life—anything beyond that was for the poor and the stranger. Of course chastity was deemed essential, so much so that no woman was permitted to enter the monastic enclosure; in certain cases they were even excluded from the island on which the monastery was built. The members of the community were to be “virgins in mind and in body;” it was not mere celibacy, but perfect chastity—in thought, and word, and work—that was required from all true monks. In all this, however, there is nothing peculiar to Irish monasteries—these virtues have been always considered essential to the monastic state, although not always professed by solemn vow.
“Silence, which is the practice of justice,” says the Rule of St. Columbanus,[114] “must, at every task and in every place, be carefully observed.” The tongue is the source of many sins, and hence the monks are strictly forbidden to speak except when there is need, and even then with caution. Of course when abroad it would be difficult to observe silence, but still the spirit of the Rule was to be followed. Even the Abbot, in his necessary communication with his subordinates, was to be brief and to the point. The monks frequently communicated their more usual wants by silent signals, especially in the refectory, lest speaking would interfere with the reading, which always took place at meal time.
“Humility” in spirit and the external practice of that virtue were specially inculcated, because spiritual pride is one of the sins most dangerous to religious men, and most difficult to guard against. The Rule of St. Carthach of Lismore requires the monk to live in humility and self-abasement towards all persons, high and low, showing to every one “devotion, humbleness, and enslavement.” The brethren in Columcille’s monasteries spoke to the Abbot on their knees. If rebuked by his superiors for any fault the monk remained prostrate on the ground until the words of blessing admonished him to rise up—it mattered not whether the brother was really culpable or not, he was to demean himself as a culprit.
One of the characteristic virtues of our Celtic monasteries was their spirit of hospitality. Every monastery had its guest-house for the reception of strangers. They were to be saluted both when coming and going by bowing down the head, and in case of persons of greater consideration by prostration. St. Comgall of Bangor, himself, washed the feet of Columba and his companions, when they came to visit him at Bangor. Upon their arrival the guests were generally received either by the Abbot in person, who gave them the kiss of peace, or by the brother in charge of the hospice, who attended to their immediate wants. One of the first things done was to wash their feet; they were then led to the church to join in a short prayer for their safe arrival. Afterwards they partook of refreshment, and had an opportunity of conferring with the Abbot. When a distinguished guest arrived, the best cheer the monastery afforded was produced. It became a feast day for the entire community; even if it were an ordinary fasting day, by St. Benedict’s Rule the fast was to be relaxed in honour of the guest. No sinner, who came in a spirit of penance was excluded; but if not penitent, notorious sinners were very properly excluded from the monastic enclosure.
The discipline of the Irish monasteries as to fasting was very rigid. This rigour began in the monasteries of Egypt and Syria, and was afterwards imitated in the West. But in the cold and stormy climate of Ireland such observances must have been exceedingly trying to human nature. Yet, perhaps, nowhere in the Church were these penitential exercises carried out with such unsparing rigour. The penances, even apart from fasting, practised by some of our Irish Saints were simply appalling. In our days we should consider them almost suicidal. To spend half the night up to the neck in a stream of cold water, to sleep on the rock in a cell or cave without coverlet or pillow, to wear the same coarse garment until it fell to pieces in rags, to spend the whole of Lent in the woods or mountains with only a few loaves of bread and a little water, were not unusual exercises of mortification in those days of primitive fervour. This was, however, mostly the case with hermits or recluses. The discipline of the regular monastic life was severe, but not quite so rigorous as this.
The ordinary meal for the ‘family’ was barley or oaten bread, with milk when it could be had, and a little fish, perhaps sometimes eggs. Flesh meat was rarely allowed except on high festival days or when distinguished strangers came to the monastery. The brethren were then allowed a share of the good cheer provided for the strangers. There was, however, except for those labouring in the fields, only one meal in the day—the Columban Rule borrowed from Bangor expressly says that the fare was to be plain and taken only in the evening, that is, after noon.[115] Vegetables, porridge, and baked bread are the principal items mentioned as allowable, and barely as much as would support life. Excessive abstinence from food, however, was to be deemed a vice, not a virtue; but to some extent a monk was to fast every day. The ‘order of refection, and of the refectory,’ is one of the most interesting portions of the Rule of St. Carthach of Lismore.[116] He allows an ample meal for the workman and special delicacies for the sick. On Sundays and other festivals of the year, especially on the greater festivals, meals were ‘increased.’ From Easter to Pentecost was also a season of full meals—“without fasting, heavy labour, or great vigils.” The Summer and Winter Lent are more bitter to laics than to monks, for to the latter all seasons should be as Lent. The meal was to be at vesper time only, except from Easter to St. John’s Day, when a refection was also allowed at noon. The bell was to be the signal for the meal, but first there was a Pater with three genuflections in the church; then the meal was blessed. Alleluia was sung, and a benediction pronounced by the Senior, who said, “God bless you.” The meal was followed by thanksgiving, after which all retired to their cell for private prayer preparatory to vespers. Wednesday and Friday were generally fast days.
The ordinary dress consisted of a cuculla or habit of coarse undyed wool with a hood, and a tunic or short underneath garment. Sandals were sometimes worn when travelling, but rarely at home. There is no mention made of any covering for the head but the cowl or hood, which was sometimes thrown over it. No doubt a leathern or hempen girdle was worn round the loins. The monk slept in his clothes on a pallet of straw in his cell. He had a straw pillow under his head, and probably some kind of a rug for a coverlet in severe weather. St. Columba himself slept on the bare stone, which was covered only with a skin, and this practice seems not to have been unusual.
IV.—The Daily Labour of the Monastery.
St. Columbanus tersely describes the daily work of every monastery when he says—“Ergo quotidie jejunandum est, sicut quotidie orandum est, quotidie laborandum, quotidieque est legendum.”[117] Fasting and prayer, labour and study, are the daily task of the monks in every monastery. How patiently and unselfishly that toil was performed the history of Europe tells. The monks made roads, cleared the forests, and fertilized the desert. Their monasteries in Ireland were the sites of our cities. To this day the land about a monastery is well known to be the greenest and best in the district; and it was made fertile by the labour of the monks. They preserved for us the literary treasures of antiquity; they multiplied copies of all the best and newest works; they illuminated them with the most loving care. They taught the children of the rich and the poor alike; they built the church and the palace; they were the greatest authors, painters, architects, since the decline of the Roman Empire. They were the physicians of the poor when there were no dispensary doctors; they served the sick in their hospitals and at their homes. And when the day’s work was done in the fields or in the study, they praised God, and prayed for men who were unable or unwilling to pray for themselves. Ignorant and prejudiced men have spoken of them as an idle and useless race. They were in reality the greatest toilers, and the greatest benefactors of humanity that the world has ever seen.