answered, that the very circumstance of all the writers being on his side proves the utter ignorance of the secular clergy. We can readily be lieve that they were not men of abandoned lives. In truth, the councils in which they were condemned and ejected, do not charge them with any serious crime, except that of having entered into the holy state of matrimony. But we cannot suppose that they resembled the parochial clergy of subsequent times, or that they were actually discharging the appropriate duties of the Christian priesthood. For on either of these suppositions their downfall could not have been so easily accomplished. Had they possessed popularity with the people, or influence with the court, had they been able to cope with their opponents in learning, talents, eloquence, or usefulness, some little resistance must undoubtedly have been offered, and some account of that resistance must have survived.

The violent enemies of Dunstan attribute his great power and reputation to affected austerity, and to pretended miracles-claims, they say, which are never lost upon the vulgar and ignorant. But Dunstan's success was not confined to the vulgar. He acted, except during the short reign of Edwy, under the immediate patronage of kings and princes; and his banishment by that monarch was repealed, not by the voice of the people, which was then seldom heard, but by the noble. men who deposed the unfortunate Edwy, and placed a more active prince upon his throne. In order then to explain the success of St. Dunstan, we must have recourse to something more than his modes of courting popularity. A fair opinion of his real merits and character may be formed from the histories of his life by Eadmer and Osborn, two monks, who wrote within a century of the time which they describe, and who profess to derive their materials from contemporary docuREMEMBRANCER, No. 47.

ments which are no longer to be found. The time which intervened between the composition of their narratives, and the events which they relate, is sufficient to account for the miracles, visions, and other marvels, with which the Lives are plentifully garnished; but it entitles us to believe that the historical facts are substantially if not accurately true.

Dunstan was born in the west of England, about the year 927. His family was equally eminent for piety, rank, and riches; and his boyhood was successfully devoted to religious exercises and study. His proficiency in all branches of education was surprising. The arts and sciences of those days were equally familiar to him; and his virtue was not inferior to his knowledge. His first patron was his uncle Athelmus, Archbishop of Canterbury, by whom Dunstan was recommended to the especial protection and confidence of Athelstan. At a very early age he was taken into the family of that king, and entrusted with the most important affairs. He was removed from this situation by the intrigues of the courtiers, who denounced him to King Athelstan as a magician and conjurer. Repairing to Winchester, he was exhorted by Elphegus, bishop of that diocese, to profess himself a monk; a recommendation with which he complied, after some delay. He immediately began to live according to the strict letter of his vows, and took up his abode in the cell which has become so famous in monastic history. The trials and the triumphs which he is said to have experienced in his seclusion, are too notorious and too absurd to require an enumeration or a commentary. They were cut short by the death of Athelstan, whose brother Edmund ascended the vacant throne, and immediately recalled Dunstan to court. He had succeeded during his seclusion to the large possessions of his parents, 4 Q

and had not hesitated to devote the whole of his wealth to the erection and endowment of monasteries, King Edmund, at his instigation, pursued a similar course. Glaston bury, which had hitherto been a royal mansion, was converted into a large and splendid monastery. Dunstan himself was appointed abbot, and the other religious houses throughout the country were fur. nished with instructors and governors from this centre of learning, piety, and orthodoxy.

But the prosperity of Dunstan was still on the increase. Edmund › died; and Edred, the next monarch, was even more warmly attached to the great abbot. The ecclesiastical and civil affairs of the kingdom were left entirely to his direction. He managed the revenue; he administered justice; he repaired, founded, and endowed churches; and all this, as his biographers affirm, with a most devoted and uncorrupt mind -giving the greatest satisfaction to the king, and obtaining the unbounded applause and admiration of the people. This state of things was interrupted by the accession of King Edwy, under whom Dunstan once more experienced the mutability of fortune, and to whom he is generally, represented as behaving in the most brutal manner. truth of such representations is an important question in his history.

The

this conduct, is represented as uni. versal: and the task of expressing it devolved upon Dunstan, on account of his well-known intrepidity and virtue. That he may have gladly seized the opportunity of humbling a prince by whom he was hated and feared, is but too probable. That his zeal against Edwy's profligacy was quickened by personal and professional dislike, may be acknowledged, and may be excused; but Dunstan's conduct upon other occasions fully justifies us in believing that the ruling motive in the present case was just and honourable, and his behaviour not repugnant to the moral feeling of the august assemblage, in whose name he acted. Centuries elapsed after the deaths of Dunstan and Edwy, without producing a single doubt respecting their relative merits. And may we not now condemn the ambition and bigotry of those ages, without passing sentence against the defenders of religion and de. cency?

It was not merely against weak and timid princes that Dunstan asserted the purity of his faith and the dignity of his order. Edgar, his greatest patron, felt the weight of his displeasure; and was compelled to do a long penance for the seduction of a nun, before Dunstan, whom he had raised to the Archbishoprick of Canterbury, would consent to take him by the hand. Similar conduct was observed by him upon other occasions. The nobles in many instances were rebuked and punished. And whatever fault might be committed in these acts of ecclesiastical authority, (some of them were unquestionably barbarous, bloody, and abominable,) it should be attributed in common candour to the savage manners of those ages, rather than the individual disposition of their authors. The cruelties of the priesthood in those uncivilized times, may easily be worked up into an affecting story; and the passions and prepossessions of our earliest days be

set in opposition to the monsters' who are depicted in such shocking colours; but we forget that the civil courts were even more sanguinary than the spiritual, and that the rigour of the Church, however excessive and enormous, was exerted in favour of morality.

From the accession of king Edgar to the death of Dunstan, in the year 988, the success and prosperity of the latter were unvaried. He was promoted first to the see of Worcester, and afterwards to the Archbishoprick of Canterbury; travelled to Rome to receive his pall from the Pope, and returned to exercise a power little less than absolute over the ecclesiastical affairs of England. The great features of his government were the institution of numerous monasteries under the Benedictine rule, and the reformation of those that had been established at an earlier date. Among the former the celebrated abbies of Glastonbury, Crowland, Ramsey, Abingdon, Thorney, and many others, trace up the origin of their real grandeur to the zeal of the archbishop and the devotion of the king. And there is no pretence for saying that these foundations were disgraced by the manners of their original tenants. The ascetic life appears to have revived in all its purity. Riches were not hoarded for the aggran disement of one favourite house; but fresh monasteries were opened as the means of endowing them were procured; and before the commencement of the second series of Danish inroads, the bad effects of the first invasion were nearly effaced. This is the bright side of Dunstan's life; it represents him as busied, in spite of age and grandeur and retirement, in the promotion of that cause which he sup posed to be the cause of God. We see him emerging, as occasion required, from the peaceful scenes which his old age preferred; and inspecting, instructing, or admonishing the colonies of holy men whom

he had dispersed in so many various directions. Their strife was laid aside as soon as Dunstan appeared. Their difficulties vanished before the zeal and perseverance which his example excited; and the uncompro mising and consistent severity of his character checked the abuses which are inseparable from monastic institutions, and produced, though it could not perpetuate, purity of life and conversation.

Unhappily Dunstan was not contented with introducing the Benedictine rule into new monasteries. His characteristic ardour and vehemence led him to reform the old establishments after his favourite model; and by so doing, he deprived the Church of England of the only chance which it possessed of obtaining a regular and respectable parochial clergy.

The foundations which had escaped the first devastation of the Danes, or had recovered from it by the care and piety of Alfred, were occupied until the middle of the tenth century by persons who had received holy orders, but had not taken the monastic vows. They resembled the canons of our modern cathedrals, living together in the discharge of a common duty, and the enjoyment of a common property; but neither residing upon their respective cures like parish priests, nor abstaining from marriage like the Benedictine monk. If these institutions were abused, as it is very probable that they were-if the clergy became more secularised than was consistent with their profession, and contrived to make their preferments descend regularly to their children-there might be good reason for changing or putting an end to the system, and the property by which it was supported might have been advantageously devoted to the endowment of parochial churches. But the archbishop had no idea of utility or excellence which did not emanate from the cell or the cloister: and with the

assistance of King Edgar, he entered upon the unjust and cruel task of ejecting the married clergy from their possessions. They were desired to make their election between marriage and monkery; and numbers, to their great credit, refused to abandon their wives and children, and submitted to the penalties which were denounced against such a choice. The point was contested with great firmness and perseverance. Appeals were repeatedly made to kings, councils, and synods; but the Pope was too powerful to be overcome by such opponents; and his influence was finally augmented and confirmed by their entire discomfiture and defeat. The particular proceedings of the assemblies in which the Benedictines gained this triumph, are related by their historians with great affectation of accuracy. But the marvels by which the narrative is disfigured are a sufficient proof of the spirit in which it was drawn up, and forbid us

to place the least reliance upon the details of which it consists.

With respect to the doctrine of Dunstan and his contemporaries, the account which has been already given of the Anglo-Saxon faith is the only one to which we can trust. If any alteration had taken place, it was in the gradual introduction of transubstantiation. But it is not certain whether this tenet, and the practice of administering extreme unction, both of which are distinctly recognised by the biographers of Dunstan, were really known during his life; or whether they were imputed to him in after ages by the partiality of his encomiasts, who were anxious to do him honour, by ascribing more merit to him than be deserved. His penitentiaries and canons, or rather the works which pass under their names, contain no. thing of importance which has not been already before the reader.

No. XLV. p. 528.

SIR,

AT a time when every possible exertion should be made to promote Christianity and the well-being of our National Church, every attempt for that purpose, proceeding from sincerity and a hearty good-will, is sure to be received with candour by the readers of the Christian Remembrancer.

During a residence, of some years, on the continent, I have neglected no opportunity to discover whatever good belongs to the various religious and charitable institutions which have fallen under my notice, with a hope of discovering something which may be beneficially introduced into my native country.

I feel strongly, and lament deeply,

the blindness of so many fellowChristians; but I do not shut my eyes against scenes, on which the most enlightened Protestant may dwell with delight; nor refuse to conscientious and unwearied devotedness, the tribute of respect and gratitude.

On some future occasions, I may draw your attention to some other institutions worthy of our imitation; at present, I will confine my remarks to the "Sisters of Charity," whose indefatigable and useful services are so well known and appreciated in France.

In every part of this country are found numerous respectable females, who dedicate their whole time to religious and charitable offices. They are Nuns and Ro

No language of mine can do justice to the patient perseverance in well-doing, the unremitting attention, and the entire devotedness to their occupation, which is witnessed in these "Sisters of Charity." No dangers deter them from their duty; no diseases, however infectious, keep them from the bed of the sick and dying; there is no habitation of the most abject poverty into which they hesitate to euter; no prison, which these good "Sisters" do not visit. In all cases of sickness and poverty, of pain and sorrow, their consolations are ready to be bestowed; and I know no earthly scene more touching and sublime than the pure and active benevolence of these patient women.

I cannot conceive any objection to the institution of similar societies, under Protestant regulations, in Great Britain. Protestant females in England, as well as Roman Catholics in France, will be ready to do the good work, as soon as competent authority and protection shall be afforded them. Their offices may be the same, though not bound by the vow which Roman Catholic discipline requires. They might even be admitted to higher privileges, consistently with the practice of the primitive Church. In them we might see, with some modifications, the "Deaconesses” of former times; valuable auxiliaries to our Clergymen, particularly among the poor. They might form that link in the chain of society, which the habits and customs of modern times too often remove between the pastor and the more humble of his flock. They might preside over, or visit our National School; and be nursing mothers of the children, in a far higher de

gree than can be expected from the generality of teachers. They might visit our hospitals, our poorhouses, and our prisons; to instruct and comfort the sick and needy; to soothe the agonies of pain; and bring to penitence the hardened offender.

In all these cases, religion and benevolence would go hand in hand. It is proposed, that the instruction given should be founded upon the principles of our Established Church, and that the Sisters of Charity should be licensed by the Bishop, after examination by himself or deputy, and a recommendation from the minister of the parish.

I respectfully submit this to the notice of the higher authorities in our Church, who, I am sure, will not be deterred by the appearance of difficulty, if they can see any prospect of good in the furtherance of this object. I humbly conceive that it merits consideration. Perhaps the plan suggested may not be wholly practicable or expedient. At all events, I shall only have taken up a page in your miscellany, which, when my motive is considered, will, I am sure, be pardoned.

I remain, Sir, with respect, Your obedient Servant, AN ENGLISH CHURCHMAN. Paris, Sept. 1822.