The life of S. CEDDE Bishop and Confessor of the holy order of S. BENEDICT.
IAN. 7. Out of Venera­ble Bede hist. Eccl. lib. 3. & 4

SAINCT CEDDE was borne in London, and hauing gone soe farre out of his youth, that he was able to make choice of a manner of life, he putt on a monasticall ha­bit, among the auncient Monks in the Monasterie of Lin­disfarne. In which schoole of pietie he profitted soe well in a short time, that he was thought worthie to be sent as an Apostolicall man with other deuout Priests to preach the Ghospell to the Mer­cians, or inhabitants of Middle-England, where by his pious labours S. Cedde conuerteth the East-Angles. and exemplar life, he greatly promoted the Catholicke cause. But Sigbert then king of the East-Saxons being at that time by the meanes of Oswin king of Northumberland, from a Heathen conuerted to the Christian faith, and baptized by Finanus Bishop of York, B. CEDDE at the earnest entreatie of Sigbert was called back by Finanus, and sent with king Sigbert to conuert his countrey to the faith: whose labour there tooke soe good effect, that in a short time he brought [Page 36] most part of that Prouince from Paganisme (into which since their conuersion by S. MELLITVS the Benedictine Monk, they had fallen) to the true knowledge and subiection of Christs Church; and he him self (who by Gods grace was now made their second Apostle) returning into Northumberland the messenger of his owne good suc­cesse, was by the hands of Finanus, in presence of two other Bishops, ordayned allsoe the second Bishop of London, the chief cittie of the East-Saxons, succeeding S. MELLITVS both in the Apostleship and Bis­hoprick He is made Bis­hop of London. of that Prouince. And now he began with a more free au­thoritie to bring to perfection the worke soe happily begunne, by erecting of Churches in diuers places, making Priests and Deacons to ayde him in baptising, and preaching the holy word of God, in­structing the new-christened, to obserue as farre forth as they were able, the stricter rules of a religious life. Great was the ioy & com­fort which the new conuerted King Sigbert and his poeple receiued to see the happie successe of his endeauours. He was to good men meeke and courteous, to the bad somewhat more sterne, and seuere in punishing their vices, as appeareth by the ensuing accident.

II. THERE was in the kings court a noble man that liued in the bands of vnlawfull wedlock, against whom the holy bishop after manie pious admonions giuen to noe effect, denounced the sen­tence of excommunication, strictly forbidding the King, and all other persons to forbeare his companie, and not to eate nor drinke with him. But the King being inuited by the same Nobleman to a Excommu­cation. banquet, made light of the bishops precepts, & went to him. And in his returne chauncing to meet the holy man, he was much afrigh­ted, and leaping of his horse fell prostrate at the Bishops feete (now likewise alighted from horse back) humbly crauing pardon of his fault. The holy man touching him as he lay along with his rodd, Soe S. P [...] ­ter pro­no [...]eed death to Ananias. Act. 5. with an Episcopall authoritie vsed these words. I tell thee (sayd he) that because thou had refused to refraine from the house of that wicked and damnable person, in that verie house thou shalt breath thy last. All which came afterwards to passe as holy CEDDE had foretould. For within a short time by the hands of the same Earle, and his brother, the king was most cruelly murthered in that house: his butchers alleadging noe other cause mouing them thereunto, but his ouermuch clemencie and mercie in romitting offences com­mitted [Page 37] against him: soe that it is credibly thought that this vntime­ly death of soe good and vertuous a Prince, did not only wash away his fault, but increase his meritt.

III. THIS blessed Bishop was wont sometimes to visitt his coun­trey in Northumberland, and to comfort his countreymen there with his diuine preachings, and godly exhortations, whereby he gott soe much fauour with king Edilwald sonne to king Oswald (that raigned ouer the people of that countrey called Deiri) that mooued thereunto both by the sainctitie and wisedome of this vertuous Bi­shop, and allsoe by the meanes of his good brother Celin chaplaine to the king and court, he gaue to S. CEDDE a peece of land for the building of a Monasterie, whither he and his people might resort to serue God, & receiue the Sacraments. The holy Bishop made choise of a place for this purpose in the desert mountaines, which before that time was rather a couert for theeues, & wild beasts, then a fitt habitation for Christians. But he would not permitt the foundatiō to be laid, before he had purged and consecrated the place with fa­sting and prayer: both which he performed euerie day vntill the euening, and then he contented him self with one and that a small meale, consisting of a little bread, one egge, & a little milke mingled with water. Thus he passed all the lent (excepting sundaies) vntill Fasting in Lent vntill euening. he was called away from this holy exercise vppon some speciall bu­sines of the king, by which he was forced to intermitt his pious de seigne, when there remayned only tenne daies of the fortie to come. But because he would not let his holy taske be there broken off, he intreated Cimbell avertuous Priest & his naturall brother, to finish the godly worke he had begunne, according to the fore-shewed example. Which being by Cimbell gladly vndertaken, and as piously He buil­de [...]h a mo­nasterie. performed, soone after Bishop CEDDE erected the Monasterie now called Lesting, ordering it according to the same lawes, and disci­pline of religion, as that of Lindisfurne or Holy Iland, where he had learned his first lesson, and rudiments of vertue.

IV. BVT IN that great controuersie which arose afterwards be­tweene the old Scottish or Irish Monks, and the Monks of S BENE­DICTS order the Apostles of England, touching the celebration of Easter, in which it was sharpely disputed an each side, especially betweene S. WILFRID the Benedictine Monke and Bishop Colman [Page 38] a Scott, holy CEDDE being a diligent interpreter for both parts was soe conuinced by the diuine arguments of S. WILFRID, that he quite gaue ouer to follow the footsteps of the Scotts, and came to the knowledge of the true and Catholicke manner of ob­seruing the feast of Easter; and allsoe to weare a round shauen crowne after the Monasticall fashion of Benedictines brought first into England by S. AVGVSTIN our Apostle and his fellowes that were all Benedictine Monks. And afterwards by the perswasion of WILFRID (Colman and his adherents being fled into Scotland) S. CEDDE him self receiued the rule of our most holy father S. BENEDICT, and in­duced all the Monkes, of his new Monasterie of Lesting (of which he was head) to doe the like, & vnder the same holy rule he gouerned them in all manner of vertues vntill his death. Thus after some yeares well spent both in gouernment of his Bishoprick, and this Monasterie: at the length as he visitted the same in time of plague, he fell into a sicknes, which sett free his soule from the teadiousnes of this worldly life, to tast the desired ioyes prepared for the reward of his merits and good works in heauen. He was first buried abrode, but afterwards a Church of stone being built there in honour of S. Cedde dieth. our blessed Ladie, he was taken vp and layd at the right side of the aultar. At his departure he resigned the gouernment of the Mo­nasterie to his brother S. CHAD, whose life you may reade the second of March.

V. WHEN the Monks of the Monasterie he had erected amongst the East-Saxons vnderstood of his death, thirtie of them went into Northumberland, desiring eyther to liue by the bodie of their holy father, or (if God soe pleased) to die, and be buried there: Such was the great loue they bore vnto this blessed Saiuct. But in that time of mortalitie they all walked the pathes of death, excepting one litle boy, who (as it was piously thought) was preserued from death by the speciall prayers and intercessions of this holy Bishop. For liuing manie yeares after, and studying holy scriptures, he came at length to knowledge that he had neuer receiued the Sacra­ment See the pe­culiar pro­uidence of allmightie God. of Baptisme: wherevppon he was forthwith christened, and afterwards being promoted to priesthood, he became a verie profi­table member of Gods Church, hauing been by the prayers and merits of S. CEDDE miraculously preserued from the danger of a [Page 39] temporall, and eternall death S. CEDDE died about the yeare of our Lord 664.

Of him doe make mention S. BEDE whom we haue followed, IOHN CAP­GRAVE, WILLIAM MELMESBVRY de Pontific. Lond. NICHOLAS HARPS­FIELD saec. 7. cap. 13. TRITHEMIVS of the famous men of S. Benedicts or­der lib. 4. cap. 66. and manie others.

The life of S. WVLSINE Bishop and Confessor of the holy order ofS. BENEDICT.
IAN. 8.

SAINCT WVLSINE borne in London of worthie parents, was carefully brought vp in the seruice and feare of God, vntill he was growne out of his childhood, and then they offered him vnto God and S. BENEDICT in the Monasterie of the Benedictine Monks at The ver­tue of his youth. Westminster, to be trained vp in that diuine schoole of vertue; where­in he became soe good a proficient, that in a short time his graue cariage, and religious behauiour gaue a great testimonie [...]f future sainctetie. By watching, fasting, and prayer he ouercame the two sworne enemies of goodnes, the flesh, and the Deuill. Soe highly he contemned the pleasures and vanities of the world, that nothing seemed to him more irksome, and teadious, then the verie thought thereof, in respect of the great comfort he receiued out of the di­uine contemplation of heauen, and heauenly things; whereunto he addicted all the powers both of his bodie and soule. In humilitie he was most lowly, in obedience most readie, and full of charitable af­fection towards all men. Hauing passed ouer his youth in the con­tinuall exercise of these, and other Monasticall vertues, he receiued the dignitie of Priesthood, and then he did not only shine vnto his He is made Priest. brethren, and draw them to vertue by his good example; but allsoe by reading and expounding the holy scriptures by pious exhorta­tions and preachings, he would winne them to the loue of true reli­gion and deuotion. At length by the meanes of that great pillar of the Benedictine familie S. DVNSTAN, he was chosen Abbot of the [Page 40] same Monasterie; in the performance of which holy charge, it is beyond the force of weake words to expresse, how much he labou­red And Ab­bot of westmin­ster. for the saluation of foules, and what excellent examples of ver­tue and godly life he shewed vnto his brethren. But such were his rare vertues, that long they could not be contayned within the bounds of a weake Cloister. For king Ethelred called him thence, as it were from vnder the obscure bushell of his Monasterie, to be placed in the view and admiration of the world, in the Bishoprick of Sherburne, and by the free election of the Clergie, and greate applause of the poeple, he was exalted to the gouernment of that Sea. Then it was rare to behould how worthily he beganne to rule his people, thundring at first a dutifull respect into their The true vertues of a good Bi­shop. hearts, he afterwards shined all loue among them: his first and prin­cipall care being, to appeare vnto his subjectss such as he would haue them be, and to be such as he appeared, making his godly life, the example of his owne doctrine, and his doctrine to arise, as it were, out of his deeds. Soe that in a small time he wanne sin­gular loue in his people, and engraffed singular confidence. His dayly exercise was to exhorte his subjects, to comfort the afflicted, to feed the hungrie, to cloath the naked, to redeeme captiues, to entertaine poore pilgrims, to teach the ignorant, to withould the desperate from the shipwrack of their soules, to enflame the tepid, and animate the seruent, to prouide carefully for those vnder his charge, and punctually to performe the dutie of his profession and calling. He was wont to spend the time of Lent within the Monks cloister were freed from the tumultuous affaires of the world he led a rigid monasticall life, exercising him self in fasting and prayer, and heauenly contemplation. On maundie thursday he came abroade, and hauing consecrated holy Chrisme according to the custome of Consecra­tion of Chrisme. the Catholicke Church, he would preach vnto the people, & giue them his benediction. After the celebration of the feast of Easter he was wont to visitt his whole diocesse, as well to teach, instruct, and direct his vnder-pastours and clergiemen worthily to performe their duties, as allsoe to amend, correct, and punish whatsoeuer was done amisse, contrarie to the rules of good order, discipline, and iustice.

II. HE WAS wonderfull carefull both to augment, and exalt that [Page 41] auncient sea of Sherburne, and to establish it in a continuall peace, in good order and discipline, and to that end he cast out from thence Nichol. Harp. saec. 10. c. 9. & William Malm. Monks ought nor to be sub­iect to Bi­shops. the secular clergimen for their bad life, and in their steede brought in the Benedictine Monks, ouer whom he would haue placed an Abbot, but they desired rather to liue vnder his gouernment, whereunto (though vnwilling) he consented: foretelling them that it would be a beginning of great calamities vnto their successours to be subiect to the Bishops. But in all that he did for the Monks he neuer de­tracted anie part of the meanes belonging to the Bishoprick, to sett them vp withall, but prouided elsewhere sufficient reuenews for them, allwaies preseruing the Episcopall Sea in her owne aun­cient and splendour in all things.

III. THVS hauing for the space of fiue yeares worthily gouer­ned his flock, and done the office of a good pastour, he fell into a vehement sicknes, togeather with a vertuous knight, and his deare S. Wulsine falls sick. friend named Egeline, who hearing of his lords infirmitie, seemed to suffer more therein, then in his owne, and therefore (not able to goe him self) he sent to know in what danger he was. The langui­shing holy man, by the messenger, willed his si [...]kly friend suddenly to dispose of him self and his estate, and to prepare for his last iour­ney; for to morrow next (sayd he) we shall goe both togeather to the court of our eternall King, where he shall receiue the reward of his faithfull seruice. The messenger being departed, he vsed these words to his Monks: By the filiall loue you haue euer shewed vnto me, I doe coniure you (my deare children) that before you committ my bones to the earth, you cause the bodie of this our faithfull friend to be brought hither, and to be buried with me in this Church of Sherburne, that in death our bodies be not separa­ted, whose soules during life were tied faithfully togeather in the bands of true loue and friendship. To these words the Monks that were present, could giue noe other answere but teares, the woefull witnesses of the sorrow they conceaued to de­part from soe deare a father. But he exhorted them all to be rather ioyfull then grieued at his neere approching happines, and alwaies to liue in the feare and loue of God, till he felt the pangs of death beginne to cutt of his discourse; when lif­ting vp his hands and eyes towards heauen, he cried out with the [Page 40] [...] [Page 41] [...] [Page 42] first martir S. STEPHEN: Behould I see the heauens opened and Iesus stan­ding on the right hand of God: and with the breath of these words he breathed forth his pure soule to receaue her reward in the purest He dieth place; the eight day of Ianuary, about the yeare of our Lord 985. Of this B. Sainct doe make mention ARNOLD WION in the appendix of his martirologe, WILLIAM MALMESBVRY, IOHN CAPGRAVE, NICHOLAS HARPSFIELD, and others, whom we haue followed.

The life of S. ADRIAN Confessor and Abbot of the holy order ofS. BENEDICT.
IAN. 9.

SAINCT ADRIAN borne in Africa, for his great vertue Out of venerable Bede. and learning was chosen Abbot of the Benedictin Mona­sterie of Niridan in Campania not farre from Naples. He was a great diuine, and very skillfull both in the Greek and Latine tongue: and to these sciences was added as an ornament of all, a true zeale of the seruice of allmightie God, and monasticall discipline, with a perfect knowledge of Ecclesiasticall gouernment. All which shined soe cleerly in him, as they gaue sufficient testimo­nie with how sincere a desire of vertue he had first forsaken the world, and putt on the habitt of religion.

II. IT happened during the time of this holy Abbot that the Metropolitan Sea of Canturbury, by the death of Deus-dedit, or Gods-guist sixth Bishop thereof, was vacant and destitute of a Pi­lote: when the people and Clergie of Benedictin Monks mooued Egbert then King of Kent, and Oswin king of the Northumbers to send one Wighart a [...]vertuous and holy Priest to Rome, to be consecrated Kings of Engl. sent to Rome for an Archbi­shop of Canturb. Bishop of Canturbury. But Wighart coming to Rome in the hott time of plague, died before he had receaued his intended dignitie. Wherevppon Vitalianus, then Pope sent for S. ADRIAN out of his Monasterie of Niridan, and desired him to accept the charge and dignitie of the Archiepiscopall Sea of Canturbury. But he refused this offer, humbly answearing that vnworthy hy was to vndertake, [Page 43] and more vnable to performe anie such weightie office in Gods Church. And therefore desired some daies of deliberation to search S. Adrian refuseth the Arch­bishoprik out an other, whose worth did more worthilie correspond with soe hight a degree and calling. In this while he found out a holy Bene­dictin Monk of his acquaintance called Theodore, that liued in Rome, and him he presented vnto the Pope as one fitt for that dignitie, he being a man excellent in the two chiefest ornaments of the mind, learning, and vertue. This man the Pope accepted and consecrated Archbishop of Canturbury; on condition that ADRIAN, who had refused the chief dignitie, should at lest accompanie him into Eng­land as his coadiutour in that Apostolicall mission. Herevnto the blessed Sainct willingly consented, and vndertooke the voyage, making him self a subiect, where he might haue been a commaun­der, His great humilitie. and choosing rather to profitt the nation with his preaching and learning, then gouerne it by an Episcopall authoritle: such was his wonderfull humilitie, and burning zeale to gayne soules to God.

III NOW therefore this holy couple tooke their iourney to­wards England, and coming into France, S. ADRIAN (who was fa­mous in that countrey, for hauing been sent on diuers embassages betweene Christian Princes) was (for his greater meritt) suspected to goe to the Kings of England on some busines of estare from the Emperour plotted against the French, and therefore was stayed by the King of the Gaules, vntill he had cleered him self of that suspi­tion. Which done, he went after Theodore into England, where with­in a yeare or two he was by the same Theodore made Abbot of the Benedictin Monks in the monasterie of S. PETER in Canturbury, now called S. Austins, from the Benedictin Monk S. AVSTIN our Apostle, He is made Ab­bot of S. Peters in Canturb. who lies buried there. In this place S. ADRIAN gathered togeather a great number of disciples whom he taught and instructed out of the holy scriptures, to find the readie way to euerlasting life; and besides this, he taught them Musick, Astronomie, and Arithmetick, as allsoe the Greek and Latin tongue: which his pious labours tooke soe good effect, that manie of his schollers spake Greek and Latin as perfectly as their owne mother tongue: and especially two, farre exceeded their other fellowes in all manner of learning, one was called Albin, who succeeded S. ADRIAN in the regencie of the [Page 44] Abbey, & the other Tobias, who was afterwards Bishop of Rochester

IV. Moreouer this blessed Sainct was of soe great meritt, and soe highly esteemed before allmightie God, that he is reported to haue bin the worker of manie miracles, and that by his intercession a de [...]d man was raysed to life. At length hauing laboured in the vineyard of our Lord a long time both in Jtalie and England, leauing His death behind him manie learned disciples the fruits of his labours, the thirtie ninth yeare after he came to Canturbury, he left this world to receaue his reward in heauen the ninth day of January, the yeare of our Lord 708. He was buried in the Church or chappell of the B. Virgin MARIE, which King Edbald had built in the foresayd Mona­sterie of S. AVGVSTIN. And this Church happening afterwards to be burnt, S. ADRIAN appeared to one of the Monks, and cōmaun­ded He appea­reth in glorie. him to goe to S. DVNSTAN (who then was Archbishop of Can­turbury) with these words, in his name: Thou liuest in houses well couered and fenced against the weather but the Church of the Mo­ther of God, wherein I, and other domesticks of heauen doe inha­bite lies open, exposed to the iniurious stormes of the wind. Wherevppon S. DVNSTAN carefully caused that Church to be re­payred, which him self afterwards frequented euerie night, such di­uine sweetnes he receaued by his prayers offered to God in that place. But one night entring into it he beheld S. ADRIAN seated amongst a glorious quier of Angels and Saincts praysing and glori­fieing allmightie God. His bodie was allwaies held in great vene­ration but especially from hence forth: and manie miracles are reported by the authour of his life, to haue been wrought at his tombe, which for breuities sake we omitt, desiring of allmightie God grace rather to imitatehis vertues, then to admire his won­ders. Of S ADRIAN maketh mention S. BEDE as before, BARONIVS tom. 8. ann. 668. TRITHEMIVS in his 3. booke of the famous men of S. BENE­DICTS order, HARPSFIELD saec. 7. cap. 8. &. 9. MOLANVS, IOHN CAP­GRAVE, and others.

The life of S, BRITHWALD Bishop and Confessor of the holy order of S. BENEDICT.
IAN. 9. Out of venerable Bede hist. de gest.

SAINCT BRITHWALD a Monk of S. BENEDICTS order in the famous Abbey of Glassenbury, was made Abbot of the mo­nasterie called Reaculer in Kent, where at that time the Kings of Kent sometimes kept their Court, allbeit now (saith Camden) it be but a poore village not farre distant from Tanet. Being a man of verie great learning and knowledge in diuine scriptures, and wonderfull well practised in Ecclesiasticall and Monasticall disci­pline, he was chosen by the Benedictins of Canturbury to succeed S. THEODORE in that sea (which had bin vacāt the space of two yeares) in the yeare 692, and consecrated Archbishop thereof the yeare following. He was the eight Archbishop of Canturbury, and gouer­ned his Chutch with all true vertues belonging to a good Bishop the space of thirtie seauen yeares, six moneths and fourteen daies. In his time a Councell was held at London, wherein the point of worshiping holy Images was handled and confirmed. At length this holy man loaden with manie yeares of venerable ould age, and full of vertues & holines, yeelded vp his blessed soule to the begin­ning of that life which neuer ends; the ninth day of January in the yeare 731. William Malmesbury a very graue authour affirmeth, out of Goscelinus who writeth the acts of the first nine Archbishops of Canturbury, that S. BRITHWALD was famous for working of manie miracles. And he is reported to haue written the historie of the b [...]ginning of the Benedictin monasterie of Euesham, with the life of S EGVINE Bishop of Worcester. Thus much out of venerable BEDE, NICHOLAS HARPSFIELD, and others. TRITHEMINS in his worke of the famous men of S. BENEDICTS order; WION, MOLANVS, and GALESINVS in their Martyrologes make worthie mention of S. BRITHWALD.

The life of S. BENNET surnamed Biscop, Abbot and Confessor of the holy order of S. BENEDICT.
IAN. 12. Written by vene­rable Bede his disci­ple.

THE GLORIOVS seruant of God S. BENNET by byrth descended from the auncient race of the nobilitie of England, but the nobilitie of his mind was such, as farre more deser­ued the fellowship and companie of the noblest, and worthiest sort [Page 47] of the English nation. He was borne in Yorkshire, and in his youth followed the discipline of warre, in the Royall seruice of Oswy king of the Northumbers, from whose princely liberalitie he receaued, as the reward of his faithfull seruice, no small possession of lands & His life during his youth. meanes suteable to his degree and calling. These for a time he en­ioyed, till he attayned to the florishing age of twentie fiue yeares, and then (a diuine inspiration mouing him therevnto) he forsoke & left the world and fading worldly goods for loue of the eternall, he despised the warre fare of these lower regions & the vaine rewards thereof, that seruing vnder the enseigne of our true King CHRIST IESVS he might receaue an euerlasting kingdom aboue; He left his countrey, house, and kinred for the loue of CHRIST and his Ghos­pell, that he might gaine the hundredfould reward he promiseth, and possesse life euerlasting: he refused to enter into worldly ma­riage that in the court of heauen he might be worthie to follow the holy lambe soe candid with the glorie of virginitie; he loathed to be a carnall father of children, being ordayned by CHRIST to His first iourney to Rome. traine vp his children in the spirituall doctrine of heauen. Hauing left therefore his countrey (because the Christian faith, and Eccle­siasticall discipline was yet but rawly established in England) he went to Rome, there, as in the source and fountaine of all true reli­gion, to learne a perfect forme oflife, where CHRISTS chief Apo­stles had planted the first and principall foundation and head of the whole Catholicke Church. He visitted the sacred tombes of the Apostles with great deuotion, vnto whom his loue was allwaies such, as the teares now shed ouer their shrines, were sufficient wit­nesses to prooue it excellent. But he made no long stay at Rome, but returned back into England, where he was verie diligent and care­full to honour, and as farre as he was able to practise him self, and teach others those rules of Ecclesiasticall discipline at home, which he had learnt, and seene abroade.

II. ABOVT that time Alchifridus sonne to Oswy hauing a great His secōd iourney to Rome. desire to goe to Rome, to visitt the holy shrines of the Apostles, would needes take that iourney with S. BENNET, notwithstanding the earnest persuasions and entreaties of his father to stay at home. Their iourney succeeded well, and shortly after they returned in safetie againe, during the time of Pope Vitalian. When S. BENNET [Page 48] came not emptie, but loaden with the sweetnes of good and whole­som doctrine as before; which the better to digest, after some He taketh the habitt of S. Be­nedict. moneths he departed out of England, and went to the Benedictin mo­nasterie of Lirin in France, where he tooke leaue of the world and putt on the monasticall habitt of the great Patriark of Monks S. BENEDICT, and receaued the Ecclesiasticall tonsure. In this pious schoole of regular discipline he liued for the space of two yeares, very carefully learning, and obseruing the rules of a true monasti­call and religious life. But noe sooner was he a litle hardened in the surnace of religion, and made perfectly strong and able to resist the temptations and aduersities of the world, but his loue to the Prince of the Apostles (which it seemes lay buried at Rome) serued as a loadstone to draw him thither againe. And finding a fitt oppor­tunitie of shipping he committed him self to that much desired iourney, which most prosperously he performed. It was at the time when Egbert King of Kent (as we haue sayd in the life of S. ADRIAN) had sent Wighart to Rome, to be consecrated Archbishop of Cantur­bury. But Wighart dieing, and Theodore being made Archbishop in his steede, S. BENNET, found to be a man very wise, religious, and industrious (allthough at that time otherwise determined) was by commaund of the Pope compelled to cease from the deuotion of his pilgrimage to attend vnto imployments of a higher calling; which was to returne into England with Theodore now Elect of Can­turbury, and S. ADRIAN Abbot, to serue them both for a guide and an interpreter by the way, and in England. BENNET, whose chiefest lesson was obedience, most willingly yeelded to the Popes desire, and brought the Archbishop into Kent, where they were both gratefully wellcome. Theodore a scended the seate of the Archbisho­prick, and S. BENNET vndertooke the gouernment of the monaste­rie of S. PETER and PAVL in Canturbury, of which afterwards S. ADRIAN was made Abbot. For S. BENNET hauing ruled there two His third iourney to Rome. yeares entred into his third iourney towards Rome, which he per­formed with his wonted prosperitie. And at his returne he brought with him not a few bookes fraught with diuine learning, all which he had eyther bought at an easie rate, or receaued gratis from his friends. Coming thus loaden into England, he betooke him self to haue some conference with the King of the West-Saxons called Kene­walk, [Page 49] whose courteous friendship he had made vse of before, & bin much assisted by his benefitts to him-wards. But this good King being about the same time taken away by an immature death, the holy man was frustrated of his desire; and therefore he turned his iourney directly into his owne countrey, where he was borne, and went to Egfrid then King of the Northumbers. To whom he made re­latiō of all whatsoeuer he had done since he departed a yonge man out of his countrey: neyther did he keepe secret from him how he was enflamed with a feruent desire of religion: then he tould him whatsoeuer he had learned both in Rome, & other places touching Ecclesiasticall and monasticall order and discipline: and what store of diuine bookes he had purchased, and with what great reliques of the Apostles, and Martyrs, he had enriched his countrey. At length the King liked him soe well, and preuayled soe farre with him, and gott soe great loue, and familiaritie, that he gaue him out of his reuenews the lands of three score and tenne families, to build a monasterie in honour of the Prince of the Apostles S. PETER, which S. BENNET with great ioy and speed perfor­med, in the yeare of our Lord 674. the fourth yeare of King Egfrid.

III. IN THE meane time before the foundation of the Church was layd S. BENNET went ouer into France, and brought thence masons, & other skillfull workemen to build it of stone, according to the Roman fashion, which he euer loued. And the great loue he The first vse of gla­sing in England. bore to the Apostle S. PETER, in whose honour he laboured, made him vse such diligence, that within the compasse of a yeare after the foundation was layd, the solemnities of Masse were honorably celebrated therein. But when the worke drew neere vnto per­fection, he likewise sent messengers into France, to fetch ouer glasiers, to adorne the windowes with glasse; a worke neuer be­fore vsed in England. They came, and did not only perfect this worke, but allsoe taught their trade vnto manie of our English­men. Allsoe such sacred vessels, vestments, and other necessaries for the seruice of Church and Altar as could not be found in England, like a religious marchant, he prouided and bought from beyond the seas. But finding the pouertie and want of France not to be able to furnish him with such ornaments as he desired, and especially to obtaine from the Pope new priuiledges for [Page 50] his new-built monasterie, he made a fourth iourney to Rome; and this as soone as he had assembled a Conuent of Monkes into it, and His fourth iourney to Rome. ordered them according to the rule and institution of great S. BE­NEDICT. Shortly after he returned, making a more happie returne of spirituall Gods then euer he had done before. For besides allmost an innumerable multitude of bookes, and great store of reliques of the Apostles, and Martirs of CHRISTS Church, he had obtayned of Pope Agatho to haue Iohn chief Cantor of S. PETERS, and Abbot of S. MARTINS in Rome along with him into England, to instruct and teach as well his monasterie, as other Churches allsoe in the forme and manner of singing, and doeing all other Ecclesiasticall rites, and ceremonies, according to the institution of the Roman Church. All which Iohn at his coming he performed, not only by word of mouth, but allsoe by publishing manie rules, and precepts to that purpose in writing, which for memorie sake were afterwards carefully layd vpp and reserued in the librarie of the sayd monasterie. Allsoe by the licence of King Egfrid, and at his earnest entreatie, he obtained of the same Pope letters of priuiledges graunted vnto the sayd mo­nasterie, to warrant, defend, and free it from all externe iurisdi­ction, or forcible inuasions for euer. Likewise he brought from Rome many pictures of holy images, to beautifie, and adorne his Church, and namely a picture of the B. VIRGIN MARIE, and the Pictures vsed in Catholick Churches twelue Apostles, which he placed in the middle arche or vault of the Church from wall, to wall, and with pictures contayning all the Euangelicall history, he adorned the north side; and with others of the visions of the Apocalypse, he made the south part correspon­dent vnto it: To the end that all that came into the Church, euen the vnlearned, which way soeuer they cast their eyes, might behold and contemplate (though in an image) eyther the louing counte­nance of CHRIST, or his Saincts; or with a more watchfull mind consider the wonderfull grace of his incarnation; or hauing before their eyes the danger of the last rigid examin, they might remem­ber more districtly to examine the guilt of their owne conscience.

IV. NOW when King Egfrid saw with what great vertue, indu­strie, See the deuotion of this good king and religion this venerable man did doe the part of a wise, and holy steward in all these proceedings, he was wonderfull much de­lighted thereat, and bicause he perceaued the land he had giuen [Page 51] him, to haue bin well and fruictfully giuen, he encreased his for­mer guift, with the donation of fortie families more. On which land by counsell, and perswasion of the King, the holy man built an He buil­deth an other mo­nastery to S. Paul. other monasterie on the other side of the riuer, dedicated to the ho­nour of S. PAVL, not farre from the former: and thither he sent Ceolfrid to be Abbot with seauenteen other Benedictine Monks, strict­ly chardging, and commaunding them, that one and the self same peace, familiaritie, & concord should be conserued in both places. And as the bodie cannot liue without the head by which it breathes, nor the head without the bodie by which it liues: Soe let noe man anie way attempt to disturbe or disquiet these two mona­steries of the chief Apostles, that togeather are knitt in a fraternall societie, of peace. Whence it comes, that afterwards both these mo­nasteries were commonly called by one name, Weremouth Abbey.

V. ABOVT this time, the blessed Sainct hauing much encreased the number of Monks in both these places, and ordered them accor­ding to the rule of his great Master S. BENEDICT, he made one Eo­sterwin a Priest and Monk, Abbot of the monastery of S PETER, to Eoster­win Ab­bot. the end that by the sociable assistance of soe vertuous a Colleague, he might with more ease vndergoe the labour of gouernement, which he was scarse able to performe alone, by reason of his much trauelling vp and downe for the good of his monasterie, and his fre­quent iourneys beyond seas, vncertaine when to returne. Eosterwin therefore vndertooke the care of the monasterie the ninth yeare after the foundation; and remained in the same while he liued, and he liued but fower yeares after. He was a man by byrth noble, but he did not make vse of the worth of his nobilitie (as manie doe) to breed matter of outward glorie, and contempt of others, but made it the first stepp to ennoble, and enrich his mind with vertue. For being cozen german vnto S. BENNET, they were both soe truely allied in a vertuous nobilitie os minds, both alike such sincere con­temners of all worldly respects and honours, that neyther the one coming into the monastery did expect to be preferred eyther by reason of his honourable nobilitie, or kinred, or the other iudge it a thing fitt to be offered him vppon those respects: But being a manfull of good and holy intentions, only reioyced that he did ob­serue regular discipline in all things, in an equall measure with the [Page 52] rest of his brethren. But S. BENNET, soone after he had ordayned Eosterwin Abbot of S. PETERS, and Ceolfrid of S. PAVLS, made his fift iourney out of England to Rome, and happily returned home, enri­ched as before, with very memorable guifts of ecclesiasticall wealth, His fift iourney to Rōme. as bookes, reliques of Saincts, and pictures, contayning the histo­ries of the ould, and new testament compared togeather, and such like. And amongst other things, he brought two cloakes all of silk, of an incomparable worke; for which he purchased of King Ald­frid, and his Councell (for Egfrid was slaine in his absence) the land of three families, on the south side of the riuer Were. But the ioyes he brought from abroade, where mingled with sadnes at home; for he found Eosterwin, whom at his departure he had left Abbot of S. PETERS Monasterie, and not a few of his monasticall flock, to haue changed this world for a better, being taken away by the pestilent furie of a sicknes, which raged all ouer the countrey. Yet to this there was comfort at hand, that by the election of the brethren, and his fellow-Abbot Ceolfrid, he found one Sigfrid a deacon of the same monasterie, a very reuerend, and meeke man, substituted in Eosterwins place. This Sigfrid was a man very sufficiently instructed in the knowledge of holy scriptures, adorned with most godly manners, endowed with a wonderfull vertue of abstinence, and for the better conseruing of the vertues of his mind, he was kept vnder with noe small infir­mitie of bodie; and to maintaine the innocencie of his heart, he allwaies laboured with a hurtfulland irremediable disease of the lungs.

VI. AND not long after S. BENNET allsoe began to be wea­ried S. Bennet falleth sick. with a sicknes comeing forcibly vppon him. For the diuine goodnes, (that the vertue of patience might allsoe giue testi­monie of the great sinceritie of these holy Abbots in religion) layd them both prostrate for a time on the hard bed of a tem­porall sicknes, that hauing triumphed ouer the same by death, he might afterwards refresh them with the perpetuall rest of a gladsom peace, and euer-during life. For Sigfrid (as we haue said) hauing bin long tormented with the teadious grief of the in­wards parts of his bodie, euidently perceaued, that now he was come to his last: and S. BENNET whose disease still en­creased [Page 53] by degrees for the space of three yeares, was now weakened with such an extreame palsie, that death seazing on the lower partes of his bodie, tooke from thence all sense of feeling, soe that life withdrew it self only into the higher lod­gings of that weake building, remayning there, only the bet­ter to exercise the office of a religious and vertuous patience. His whole studie, during the time of his sicknes, was allwaies to spend the little allowance of breath he enioyed in rendring hartie thankes and prayses vnto the authour of all goodnes for his benefitts, and to exhorte his brethren with the fraternall words of pietie, to remayne constant in the seruice of God, and in the obseruance of the rules, and institutions which he had planted among them.

VII. FOR you ought not to imagine (sayd he) that the lawes His speech to his bre­thren on his death bed. and constitutions which I haue giuen you, haue proceeded out of my owneignorant, and vnlearned vnderstanding; for out of seuen­teen diuers monasteries, which among all the wearisom labours of my often trauells, I found to be best, haue I learnt, and gathered. all these precepts, deliuered them to your pietie to be obserued. But chiefly this precept he did often times reiterate vnto them, that in the election of their Abbot they should haue noe regard to the nobilitie of byrth, without the worthines of vertue; nor respect the greatnes of dignitie in the world, but the aboundance of charitie, and humilitie in religion: For in very deed I tell you (sayd he) that in comparison of two euills, I had rather see the place in which with soe great labours I haue built this monasterie, reduced into a perpetuall desert, (if soe it please God) then that my owne brother, who is knowne not to fol­low the stepps of vertue, should succeede me in title of Ab­bot, to rule, and gouerne the same. Therefore (deare Bre­thren) be allwaies very carefull neuer to choose your Abbot An Abbot to be cho­sen not for nobi­litie, but vertue. according to byrth, nor out of anie other Bodie, then your owne, but following that which our great Abbot S. BENEDICT hath prescribed in his rule, and the decrees contayned in our priuiledges, you ought in the conuent of your Congregation with cōmon counsell of the brethren, to search out one, who according to the deserts of life, and doctrine of wisedom, shall be found, [Page 54] and approoued to be most worthy, and fitt to performe soe great an office: and such an one being found, you shall present him to the Bishop, who with his wonted benediction ought to confirme him in the Abbatiall dignitie. In these and such like speeches did he spend a great part of his weake sickly dayes; whilst to miti­gate the wearisom teadiousnes of the long night, which the heauy burden of his disease did render restlesse from sleepe, he would some times call one of his brethren to reade vnto him eyther the example of holy Iobs vnmatcheable patience, or some other part of the scripture, whereby he might receaue some comfort in his grief, and be able more liuely to lift vpp him self from the lowest degree of worldly torment, to the confideration of the highest reward of his suffering. And because he could not by anie meanes rise to pray, nor easily make vse eyther of tongue, or voice, to recite his accu­stomed taske of psalmes, he learnt by his owne prudence, and the His truly religious spiritt. dictamen of a true religious spirit and affection, to call certaine of the brethren vnto him at all the howers eyther of day, or night of­fice, with whom, being diuided into two quiers he would sing, and say as well as he was able, all the accustomed psalmes of the office, and what his weaknes would not let him performe, was by their assistance supplied.

VIII. BVT when this worthy payre of Abbots, BENNET and Sigfrid hauing bin long wearied with these teadious infirmities, did both plainly perceaue that they drew neere the entrance of the dreadfull gates of death, and saw them selues to be both vnfitt for See a true patterne of affectiō the gouernment of the monasterie; for soe farre their infirmities had wrought in them the perfection of the vertue of CHRIST; that when as vppon a day both piously desiring to see, and salute one and other before they departed out of the world, Sigfrid was car­ried vppon a beere (like a true picture of death) to the chamber where S. BENNET lay vppon his poore couch, and being both by the seruing hands of their dolefull brethren in such sort composed togeather vppon the same pallett, and their heads vppon the same bolster (behold a lamentable sight!) they were not masters of soe much strength, as to ioyne their holy lippes togeather to giue a kisse to their last farewell, but were fayne hauing made shew of their desire herein, to finish it by the assistance of fraternall hands.

[Page 55] IX. THEN S. BENNET entring into consultation with Sigfrid [...] and the rest of hir brethren, sent for Ceolfrid that was Abbot of S. PAVLES monastery, a man not only neere vnto him in the bands of kinred, but allsoe (which is the chiefell) in the sweete societie of vertues, and him by the common consent, and fauour of all, he placed at the helme to be the only pilot, and gouernor of both his monasteries; iudging it the only best course, the better to conserue the peace, vnitie, and concord of both places, to beepe them per­petually vnder the regiment of one only superiour. And for this purpose he wished them to call to mind that Euangelicall sentence: Euery kingdom diuided within it self, shall become desolate. But two moneths after this, the venerable, and beloued man of God Sigfrid Luc. 11. v. 17. hauing passed through the fier and water of temporall tribulation, was by a wellcome death brought into the sweet refreshing of an euerlasting rest: And at length after fower moneths more, the ex­cellent worker of vertues, and great conquerour of vices S. BENNET, conquered with the weakenes of his earthly body, came to his last: It was when the frozen night came on with his winter blasts, to begett a sacred day of eternall, and cleere light of felicitie. His watchfull brethren mett togeather in the Church, with prayers, and psalmes to driue away nights horrid shadows, and to comfort the grief of their deare fathers departure, with the continuall singing of the diuine prayses. Some would not bouge out of the chamber, and from the beds side in which the strong sickman lay; expecting by the passage of death, to take the sweet entrance of life. With de­sire they expected that as his example, taught them how to liue well, by the same they might likewise learne how to die. For the further mitigating of his grief, the Ghospell was read all night (as it was wont) by a Priest that attended on him. The hower of his departure drawing neere the Sacrament of CHRISTS facaed bodie was giuen him for his viaticum; and soe that blessed soule, hauing bin a long time parched, and examined in the flames of an happie tribulation, forsaketh the earthly furnace of the flesh, and being at libertie, tooke a long desired flight to the neuer-dieing glory of His death. celestiall happines. This glorious Confessor died in the yeare of our Lord 690. the twelfth day of Ianuary, when he had gouerned his monastery sixteene yeares, eight by him self, and other eight [Page 56] with the assistance of his holy Colleagues Eosterwin, Sigfrid, and Col­frid. He was buried in the Church of S. PETER, which he built, that soe he might not be separated from him in death, whom he euer lo­ued in his life: and by whose ayde the gates of heauen were opened vnto him. His life is written by S. BEDE, whom we haue followed. VSVARD, MALMESBVRY, WIGORNIENSIS, IOHN CAPGRAVE, BARONIVS, and other graue Authours make honourable mention of his vertues.

This Sainct BENNET was the first that reduced the BENEDICTIN order in S. Bennet Batrone of the moderne Congre­gation of England. England into the forme, and gouernment of a Congregation; that is, when manie monasteries are vnder owne head, or superiour, who during his time (whether it be perpetuall or determined vppon yeares) is supreme monarke, as it were, of them all. And for this cause the English Congregation of Be­nedictin Monks now extant, and deriued immediatly from the auncient Congregation of England, both by succession, and Apostolicall priuiledge, honoureth this glorious Sainct as their chief Patrone, next after the vniuer­sall Patriarke of the whole order great S. BENEDICT him self, and Sainct AVGVSTIN our first Apostle. For allbeit in the beginning the Congregation which he erected, consisted only of two monasteries (as may be seene in his life) yet afterwards the whole number of the Black Benedictin Monks in Eng­land was ranged into one Congregation; as appeares by the bulle of Pope In­nocentius the third graunted vnto them. And in like manner as the Con­gregation of Clunie, and others beganne srom a small number, to grow to such greatnes, soe likewise did that of England, from the vniting of the sayd two monasteries by S. BENNET BISCOP, encrease to a generall vnion of all the Benedictin Monks throughout the vvhole Jland.

The life of S. ALVRED Abbot and Confessor of the holy order ofS. BENEDICT.
IAN. 12. Written by John Capgraue

ALVRED borne in England of nobles parents, was brought vp from his tender age in the feare of God, and good lear­ning; he learnt, euen in his youth, to vndegoe the sweet yoake of our Lord, remayning allwaies in the innocencie of his [Page 57] life pure from all spott of sinne. His pietie and learning encreasing daily with his age, he gayned soe great fauour and loue with Dauid King of the Scots, that he esteemed him before most of his court, and had exalted him to a Bishoprick, had not his entrance into a He refu­seth a Bi­shoprik. religious order hindered it. In all occasions this holy youth carried him self with soe great pietie, and meeknes, as noe iniurie could moue him to anger; noe opprobrious speeches could prouoke him to reuenge: he allwaies endeauoured to repay hatred with loue, to render good for euill, & to ou [...]rcome enuie with dutie and seruice. A certaine knight perceauing him to be beloued, and ho­noured of the King more then anie other, raysed a hatefull and ma­lignant persecution against him, and grew so fierce in his malice, that he was not afray sometimes openly to vomitt part of his ve­nom against him with iniurious words before the King him self. To whom the holy man with a mild and vnmoued countenance: You speake verie well (sayd he) and honestly, I know your tongue was neuer acquainted with vntruths; and therefore I take you to be His rare humilitie & patiēce. my verie good friend. The knight finding him to be a firme rock, whom all the outrageous stormes of his malice and hatred could not moue, nor stirre from the ground of vertue, suffred a willing ouerthrow in his wicked endeauours, and shewing the effects of a repentant mind, demaunded pardon for his great temeritie, promi­sing from thence forth euer to oblige himself vnto him in an vn­sayned league of friendship. To whom ALVRED: I confesse (sayd he) I reioyce hartely at thy repentance, and therefore I shall loue thee better farre then euer; for thy hatred to me hath encreased my A good lesson. loue to my deare Redeemer: and my patience being exercised, and tried hereby, hath perhapps bina meanes to make me profitt a little in my dutie to allmightie God. Thus this B. man frō the briers of other mens malice reaped the sweetroses of vertues vnto him self.

II. AFTER this, meaning to bidd adieu to the world, and all He taketh the habitt of a monk the vanities thereof, he went vnto the Abbey of Rhieuall or Ridall in Yorkshire, and putt on the habitt of a Bernardin Monk vnder the holy rule of S. BENEDICT. In which solitarie kind of life, giuing him self wholly to contemplation of heauenly things, and the con­tinuall exercise of true religious, and monasticall vertues, he at­tained to such perfection, that like the moone amongst the [Page 58] lesser starres, he shined amongst the rest of his brethren in all man­ner of vertuous life and behauiour. And shortly aster he was soe He is made Ma­ster of the nouices. good a proficient him selt, that he wās thought able to read a lesson of vertue vnto others, and therefore the education of the nouices, or probationers, was committed to this chardge. But whilest he exe­cuted that office, there was an vnconstant Clerk that entred into the order, whose vocation after a small triall beganne to wauer, like a reed in the wind. His vnstedfast mind being perceaued, his good Master earnestly requested allmighty God to giue him the grace of perseuerance. Soone after the same Brother desiring to re­turne into the world, opened the thoughts of his heart vnto his Master, saying that his weaknes was not able to endure the hardnes of the order, that all things therein were contrarie to his nature, that he could not vndegoe their dayly paines and exercises, that he was grieuously vexed, and tortured with their long watching, that he often fainted vnder his manuall and dayly labours: that the roughnes, and rudnes of his cloathes did pierce his tender skinne, and that indeed his will was rather inclined to follow secu­lar delights, and worldly lusts, and pleasures then to breake his back with such austeritie. And I (replied his Master) will prepare thee daintier meates, and gentler cloathing, and in all things else belonging to thy profession I will be more indulgent vnto thee. I will not stay (sayd he) allthough it were to be master of all the wealth in the house. Neyther will I tast anie foode (replied ALVRED) vntill God all mightie bring thee back againe, eyther willing, or nilling. The one runnes to the gate to be gone; the other enters into his chamber to pray that he should not goe. The holy man la­ments the losse of his sonne, and with the deepe sighs of a sorrow­full heart bewayling his great temeritie, refuseth to receaue anie consolation. The fugitiue coming to the gate, which to his sight A notable miracle. was wide open, found it eyther not to be soe indeed, or else some thing else stronger then a gate to be shutt against him; for hauing often times striuen with all his force to goe [...]orth, he fayled of his purpose, and was not able to passe ouer that place, where the gate was wont to stand being shutt. Being strucken with admiration hereat, he returned to his master, before whom with great signes of repentance, he humbly demaunded pardon of his follie, promising [Page 59] to remayne constant, and stedfast in his vocation euer after: His Master with teares of ioy entertayned him, giuing humble thankes to allmightie God for his goodnes.

III. S. ALYRED was second to none in those daies in all man­ner of learning both diuine and humane, and his knowledge being ennobled with the rich ornaments of vertue, and religion, moued his brethren by common consent to elect him for their Abbot of Rhieuall: In which dignitie, as if all his former life had bin but a He is cho­sen Abbot of Rhie­uall. shadow, or figure of true religion, he beganne as it were to reforme and wind him self vp into a farre higher degree of austeritie, and deuotion: and when as now he might assume more libertie, he con­trarie to custom did quite abridge him self of all such things as might giue his bodie content: in his diet soe sparing, that his ex­treme abstinence made him seeme to beare the shape rather of a spiritt, then of a man. He encreased the number of his Monks to one hundred and fiftie, and fiue hundred brethren. For the space of tenne yeares before his death, being cruelly vexed with the stone­collick, and the gowt, he made vse thereof for the better triall of his humilitie, and patience, in which vertues he was excellent; not ceasing neuerthelesse to write spirituall bookes, and homelies vppon the Ghospell, to preach often vnto his brethren, allwaies conforming his owne life to whatsoeuer proceeded eyther from his penne, or tongue. In his writings, sayings, doeings, and all his manner of life he was a most diligent imitatour of the great father of his Order S. BERNARD. Allwaies meeke, humble, patient, and one that both in him self, and with others, and amongst all men was soe peaceable that it farre exceeds the force of this penne to ex­presse, or anie heart to thinke, how entierely and sincerely, he did embrace, purchase, and nourish true peace, and concorde.

IV. AS ONCE he sate before the fier being soe cruelly tormen­ted with the collick, that through the sharp conuulsions of his griefe he was forced to sitt double with his head bent downe be­tweene his knees, there comes into the roome one of the brethren that long before hated him for his goodnes, and now spieing this opportunitie to be aduantageous for his reuenge, stole behind him sitting in that manner, and with all his force thrust him violently into the fier; crieing out aloud: Now thou art iustly punished'for [Page 60] thy hypocrisie, and falsehood: Herevppon some of the Monks coming to the noyse, gott vpp the holy Abbot out of the fier, and out of a zealous anger beganne to lay violent hands vppon the au­thour of this mischief. But the blessed Sainct forgetting his infir­mitie, His won­derfull pa­tience. and still mindfull of charitie, strictly forbadd them from that enterprise: Cease, cease (sayd he) my deare children, and doe not robb your wretched father of his garment of patience. Alas I am not angrie, I am not hurt, I am not troubled at this; my child it was that cast me into the fier, and hereby he hath not vrged me my death, but purged my imperfections. He is my child allbeit weake and imperfect: And indeed I am not sound in bodie my self, but his weakenes hath cured the imperfection of my soule. And here with­all embracing him about the neck, he gaue him the louing salutatiō of peace, and as though he had endured no wrong at all, he studied with all gentlenes to mitigate the furie of his heart, which without cause was enraged against him.

V. FOWER yeares before his death, he had his bodie perfectly exempted & dischardged from all pleasure of enioying this life, for he brought it soe leane, and bare with continuall fasting, watching, sicknes, and other voluntarie austerities, that nothing but the skinne was left to couer the naked bone. And in all his infirmi­ties he would not heare of a phisitian, but contemning for the loue of God all remedies of the bodie, he only busied him self about that one thing which is necessarie, to prouide for the health of his soule. He read such bookes as would moue his heart to melt into teares of sorrow and compunction, and instruct him in the way of good life and manners; and amongst manie others he vsed verie much to reade S. AVGVSTINS confessions. He was often wont to sitt in a hollow place made in the floore of his Oratorie, piously ruminating with him self that from earth he came, and into earth she should returne. In a word, liuing on earth, his conuer sa­tion was in heauen, for often times he enioyed the vi [...]ion of the blessed Angels, with whom he conuersed as familiarly, as with his owne brethren. Manie other miracles are reported to haue bin wrought by this holy Sainct, which we omitt.

VI. A YEARE before his death, vnto his other infirmities was added the crueltie of a drie cough, which finding a bodie allreadie [Page 61] weakened, brought him to such extremitie, that often times ha­uing sayd Masse, he was compelled to lie downe on his bed for the space of an hower, being neyther able to moue, nor speake a word. He foretould vnto one of his brethren the hower of his death two dayes before; which being at hand he caused them all to come to­geather, and exhorting them to the loue of patience, humilitie, and other vertues, full of good workes and meritts, he yeelded vp his blessed soule, to receaue a crowne of iustice, at the hands of the iust iudge, the twelfth day of Ianuary, in the yeare of our redemption 1166. during the raigne of Henry the second. And in successe of time he was registred into the number of canonized Saincts. This life is gathered chiefly out of IOHN CAPGRAVE, or IOANNES ANGLICVS, most of our English Historiographers doe largely speake his prayses.

The life of S. KENTIGERNE Bishop and Confessor.
IAN. 13. Written by Josce­linus.

LOTHVS the Heathen King of the Picts had a fayre daughter called Thamet, who by the often hearing and attending to the preachings of Gods seruants, the power of the diuine grace concurring therevnto, was conuerted to the Christian faith. This Thamet hauing been rauished by the lasciuious violence of a no­ble man of the court, was in punishment of that faultlesse fault, by His pa­rents. the lawes of the countrey, and her owne fathers decree, adiudged to be cast downe headlong from the toppe of a steepe hill soe to pe­rish. In the execution of which crueltie, recommending her self to allmightie God, and lifting vp her hands and eyes towards hea­uen for ayde, she was throwne downe backwards, but by the hand of him that saueth those who truly call vppon him, she was deliuered from receauing anie hurt at all. Which miracle her Pagan father ascribing to the power of art magick, caused her presently to be putt into a leather boate, and without eyther sayle, or oare, to be committed to the vncertaine conduct [Page 62] of the winds and waues. But the allmightie protectour and ruler of the s [...]as, brought her safe to an other port, where she went on land, and came at length to the towne of El [...]e or Assaph in Flint­shire, His byrth and there she was deliuered of a boy who being baptised by Seruanus a holy man of that countrey, was named KENTIGERNE. Such was the byrth and parentage of this Sainct, who allthough he may seeme to haue contracted some stayne of honour therein, yet his worthy manner of life soe cleerly washt away all spott of anie such imputation, that for true vertue, life, and learning he became an example to be sett in ballance with anie holy man of those times. His youth was first trained vp in the vertuous schoole of Seruanus, vnder whom he profitted in a short time beyond all his other schoole fellowes both in learning and vertue; purchasing by his owne towardnes, such a singular loue with his good master, that he was wont to call him Munghu, that is, most deare friend, and by that name he was euer after honoured and called vppon by the peo­ple of that countrey, in their deuotions vnto him. But the malice of enuious persons (who because they could not attaine, began to hate soe great goodnes) foreing him to depart from his master Ser­nanus, he went into Scotland to a place called Glasghu, where he led a His an­stere life, and pen­nance. very austere and holy life. In his poore cloathing and diet, he bore the true patterne of an other IOHN BAPTISTE. His cloathes were made of goate-skinnes; he would fast oft times without tasting anie meate the space of three dayes; neyther would he then seeke after dainties, but was content to eate such things as first came to hand. He abstained from flesh and wine perpetually. His sleepe was verie litle, which when nature compelled him vnto he tooke lieing along in a hollow stone with a great stone vnder his head, in steed of a pillow. To this austerie, he added the rudenes of a shirt of hayre­cloathe, which he allwaies wore next his skinne. And in this po­uertie did he trauell ouer that countrey, preaching, teaching, and conuerting great multitudes of people of the faith, till at length by He is made Bi­shop. the common consent of the King and Clergie, but much against his owne will, he was exalted to the sacred dignitie of Bishop in the sea of Glasghu Which honour nothing altered him in his rigid and strict kind of life, but rather serued as a spurre to encrease his won­ted austeritie.

[Page 63] II. HE WOVLD walke abroade allwaies in his albe, and stole, with his crosier-staffe in his hand, which allthough it were but of plaine wood, yet he was (if I may so call him) a golden Bishop, shi­ning His manner of prayer & mortifica­tion. to the world with great examples of charitie, and good wor­kes. Euerie night, after a short refreshing of sleepe, he would goe naked into the cold water and in that manner recite ouer the whole Psalter; and this custom he allwaies obserued in despight of winters frost and snow, vnlesse his sicknes, or some other necessarie iourney did hinder him: and then he would make amends with some other spirituall exercise. Soe entierly had he mortified, and deadened in him self all the lafciuious instigations, and motions of the flesh, that, as he would often tell his disciples, he was noe more prouoked to lust at the sight, or touching of the fayrest woeman in the world, then in the cold embracing of a hard stone. Often times whilest he preached, there appeared a white doue ouer his head, with a beake, as it were, of gould. Euerie lent he would segre­gate His ob­seruance of Lent. him self from all companie, and liue in some desert place, eating noe other food but herbes and rootes. On Maundie thurs­day he was wont for the exercise of his humilitie, hauing gathered a companie of poore people, and leapers togeather, to wash their feete with water, his owne teares in the meane time concurring therevnto: and hauing wiped and dried them first with a towell, and then with his owne kisses, he would attend on them at table with all submission and diligence. On good Friday, in memorie of our Lords Passion, he spent allmost the whole day, and some part of the night in scou [...]ging & chastising his bodie with sharpe whipps and stripes, vntill his owne nakednes did blush at this his piously cruell pietie. On holy Saturday, or Easter Eue, excepting the time of the diuine office, he allwaies lay hid in a certaine graue or sepul­cher within the ground, in contemplation of our Lords passion, and punishing him self with stripes, till the hower of our Sauiours re­surrection the next morning. By his preaching he reduced the infi­dels o [...] his diocese vnto the Catholick faith, and with the force of his sacred doctrine, he reduced all Apostates, and hereticks to the safe bosome of our holie mother the Church: he demolished all diabolicall Idolls; built some Churches, allotted certaine limitts and bounds vnto Parishes; and where soeuer he trauelled in this [Page 64] spirituall trafick to gaine soules, he would not make his iourneies on horse back, but allwaies on foote, as did the Apostles. And lest he might seeme to eate his breade in Idlenes, he laboured manie times with his owne hands in the tillage of his land.

III. AFTER the death of King Morken, during whose raigne he was made Bishop, the kinsmen of the same King, like the sonnes of Beliall, plotted, and conspired his death; whereof the holy man being admonished by reuelation from God, he tooke his iourney into Southwalls, which countrey was at that time richly beautified with the florishing vertues of S. DAVID, with whom hauing spent some time, he receaued of the King of that countrey called Cath­walla, a peece of land to build a monasterie. And hauing erected a He buil­deth a monaste­rie. monasterie at Elue in Flintshire, he there constituted his Episcopall sea. He gathered togeather in that monasterie the number of nine hundred threescore and odd Monks, which all serued God vnder regular discipline in a verie strict and rigid manner of life: Three hundred of the most vnlearned of them, were deputed to the labour of husbandrie to toile and [...]ill the fields, and keepe sheepe, & other cattle: other three hundred were employed in workes within the The man­ner of life of the an­ciēt mōks. monasterie, to prouide victualls, and other necessaries: and the rest, which were sufficiently learned, were allotted to the quier, night and day, to celebrate the diuine office: and none of these were easily permitted to wander abroade, but were bound to the limitts of their monasterie, as to the Sanctuarie of our Lord. The holy Bishop diuided them into diuers companies or conuents; and as one companie ended the diuine office in the Church, an other presently entred to beginne the same againe, and that hauing done, comes a third companie in like manner; soe that by the continuall succession of the diuers companies, the diuine seruice was maintay­ned in that Church night and day without anie intermission. Amongst these Monks there was one called Asaph a man of verie great vertue, and a worker of manie miracles, him S. KENTIGERNE loued aboue all the rest, and for his vertuous life he deliuered vnto his hands the care of the monasterie, and appointed him for his suc­cessour in the Bishoprick.

IV. THE HOLY man remayning on a time longer at his deuo­tions then his ordinarie custom was, his face appeared fierie and [Page 65] glistening, to the great admiration of the beholders: and after his prayers were ended, he fell into most grieuous lamentations, which He hath a reuelation of S. Da­uids death moued some of his disciples humbly to request him to declare the cause of his soe great sadnes. To whom after a silent pawse: You must know (sayd he) my deare children, that the crowne, and glorie of Britanie, and worthy father of his countrey S. DAVID, is now departed out of the prison of his bodie, to receaue his rewards in heauen. Beleeue me, I beheld not only a great multi­tude of Angels, but the Lord of Angels CHRIST IESVS him self, come to meet him, and leade him into the glorie of his heauenly paradise. Know likewise that our Britanie being depriued of this her great light will groane for the losse of soe great a Patrone, who Prayse of S. Dauid. whilst he liued, was the only buckler of our defence against the re­uengefull sword of Gods iuste anger, half drawne out to punish the malice of our Countrey; and long since, had not his vertue withheld it, had made a generall slaughter amongst vs. Now there­fore our Lord will deliuer this countrey into the hands of strange nations, which neyther acknowledge him for God, nor his reli­gion for the truth. And this our wretched Ile shall be inhabited He pro­phesieth the mise­rie of Bri­nie. by Pagans, and all Christian religion therein shall for a time be vt­terly destroyed, but afterwards by the wonderfull mercie of all­mightie God, all shall be repayred againe, and the countrey redu­ced notonely into her auncient, but into a farre better and more florishing state of religion.

V. THIS Blessed Sainct had bene seauen times at Rome, where vnto S. GREGORIE the great, afterwards Apostle of the English, Bishops confirmed by the Pope. he related the whole course of his life, the manner of his election, and consecration, and all other chances which had befalne him. The holy Pope vnderstanding him to be a man of God, and ful of the grace of the holy Ghost, confirmed his consecration, which he knew to haue proceeded from God, and supplieing, accor­ding to his earnest desire, such ceremonies as had bin omitted therein, he dismissed him vnto his pious chardge by the holy Ghost inioyned.

VI. IN THE meane time death hauing exercised his reuenge on all the holie mans enemies in Albanie, or Scotland, the in­habitants thereof forsaking the way of truth, and returning [Page 66] like doggs to feed vppon their owne vomitt, fell againe into the rite [...] of flatt Idolatrie. And therewithall the heauens and elements with drawing their vsuall influences caused a generall famine, and dearth in their countrey. Till at length allmightie God raysed a King named Redereth, who hauing bin baptized in Ireland by the disciples of S. PATRICK, with all his heart honoured allmightie God, and studied by all meanes to restore his kingdom to the true faith of CHRIST. He sent therefore messengers with letters directed vnto S. KENTIGERNE, earnestly desiring him by the name, and loue of our Lord, to returne to his desolate flock, that was left destitute of all care and cure; affirming it to be a thing vnworthie for a pa­stour to forsake his sheepe, & a Bishop his Church, for whose loue he ought to lay his soule at stake, vnlesse he would turne a mer­cenarie, who flies for feare of persecution. Likewise he assured him that his enemies which sought his life, had allreadie in seeking it lost their owne. Therefore the holy man ordayning S. ASAP [...] his successour with six hundred and threescore of his Monks, tooke his S. Kenti­gerne re­turned in­to Scotl. iourney towards Glasghn. The king giuing thankes to allmightie God with a great multitude of people, went to giue him the mee­ting, and to receaue him with honour due vnto soe great a Sainct. He hauing first giuen his benediction to the whole companie, sayd: All those whosoeuer enuie the saluation of men, and are aduersa­ries vnto the word of God, I commaund them by the vertue and power of our Lord IESVS CHRIST suddenly to depart hence, lest they be an hinderance vnto those who will receaue the truth. At Note a strainge miracle, & vertue of his words. these words, agreat multitude of most horrible, and vglie spiritts was scene to flie out of that companie with wonderfull swiftnes; at which sight they all trembled with the verie apprehension and feare. But the Sainct exhorting them to take courage, and com­fort, gaue them to vnderstand what goblins they did beleeue in, and therevppon incited them to giue creditt vnto the true faith of IESVS CHRIST: when in a short time by his continuall preaching and mi­racles, he recouered all the inhabitants of that countrey out of the The fruits of his pre­chings. black night of Idolatrie, to see the cleere day of Christs Ghospell. And presently the heauens gaue them rayne, and the earth, which before was barren, brought forth fruit in due season. Allso he purged the countrey of the Picts now called Galloway, from the [Page 67] blindnes of idolatrie, and heresie: he conuerted Albanie, and foun­ded there manie Churches, and monasteries. He sent some of his disciples to the Scottish Iles called Orkney, to Norway, and Island, to His manie miracles. bring vnto those nations the ioyfull tidings of CHRISTS Ghospell. Wheresoeuer he him self eyther trauelled, or preached, he gaue sight to the blind, hearing to the deafe, speach to the dumbe, cured the lame, cast out deuills from possessed persons, restored madmen to their senses, healed leprosies, palsies, and all other diseases. Some times by the only touching of his garments, or taking some little particles of his meate, or drinke, manie sick persons recouered their desired health. The Queene that had bin a long time sterile, through his prayers obtayned a sonne of allmightie God, who afterwards succeeding his father in the kingdom, excelled all his predecessours in wealth and pietie.

VII. S. COLVMB hearing the fame of S. KENTIGERNE, came from his monasterie in the Island Hij with a great companie of his monks He ma­keth great league with S. Columb. to visitt him, and enter into a league of frienship and familiaritie with him. And coming neere vnto the place where the holy Bi­shop was, he diuided his whole companie into three troupes. The Bishop likewise that came to meet him, did in the same manner di­uide his followers into three squadrons, in the first he placed the iuniors or yonger sort, in the second those of a middle age, and in the third old aged men, venerable in their gray hayres. And as these two sacred armies of IESVS CHRIST marched towards each other, they song spirituall hymnes and canticles on both sides: and S. COLVMB to his followers; I see (sayd he) ouer the third quier a fierie light in manner of a golden crowne, to descend from heauen vppon the Bishops head. But the two holy leaders of these troupes coming neere togeather, saluted each other with mutuall embra­cings, and holie kisses of loue, and friendship; in testimonie there­of they chainged their pastorall staues, and the staffe which S. CO­LVMB gaue the Bishop, was kept afterwards with great reuerence in S. WVLFERS Church at Rippon.

VIII. A MIGHTIE great stone crosse being made, for the Church­yard of Glasghn which could not be erected by mens strength, was at A crosse sett vpp miracu­lously. the prayer of the holie man sett vpp in the night by an Angel. And in that place afterwards the diuine goodnes graunted perfect health [Page 68] vnto manie diseased persons that craued it, by the meritts of S. KEN­TIGERNE. He built a mille vppon the riuer Gladus, that would neuer grinde anie stolne corne, neyther could the stones, or wheeles thereof by anie force be turned about from Saturday noone, till munday morning.

IX. AT LENGTH the holy man being soe farre spent with ould­age, as his withered sinews did scarse hang his ioynts togeather, and His last exhorta tion to his disciples. perceauing that the hower of his death was at hand, he called his disciples about him, and exhorting them with a dieing voyce to the conseruance of true religion, mutuall charitie, peace, and hospita­litie, he gaue them an expresse, and strict commaund firmely to obserue the decrees of the auncient holy fathers, and euer to follow the institutions of the Catholick Roman Church. When manie of his disciples, who most dearely loued him, falling pro­strate before him cried out with weeping words: Wee know, deare father, that thou doest desire to be dissolued from thy aged bodie, to raigne with CHRIST: but we humbly beseech thee to take pittie on vs, whom thou hast gayned to the seruice of CHRIST. Confessiō of sinne [...]. In whatsoeuer our humane frailtie hath offended, we haue allwaies confessed vnto thee, desiring to be corrected by the arbitrement of thy discretion. Obtaine therefore of allmightie God that to­geather with thee we may depart out of this vale of teares and mi­series, to the euerlasting ioyes of our deare Lord: for vnto vs it seemeth a thing vnfitting, that eyther a Bishop without his Cleargie, a sheapheard without his flock, or a father without his children should enter into the ioyes of his Lord. The holie man being moued with pittie, fetching his breath as well as he was able: The sacred will of God (sayd he) be fullfilled in vs all, and according as he knowes best, and as he pleaseth, let his diuine pro­uidence dispose of vs all. Herevppon being admonished by an Angel, that his prayer was heard, he was likewise willed to enter into a warme bath, in which lifting vpp his hands and eyes towards heauen, he resolued as it were into a sweet sleepe, and yeelded vpp The man­ner of his death. his bless [...]d soule into the hands of his Redeemer. It pleased the heauenly wisedom to giue his seruant this pleasant kind of death, whose life was a continuall martirdome. His disciples hauing ta­ken his body out of the bath, manie of them entring therein, [Page 69] had the fauour to follow their holie leader into the heauenly dwel­lings. He died the thirteenth day of Ianuary, about the yeare of our Lord 596. and in the hundred eightie fift yeare of his age, when he had bin Bishop an hundred and threescore yeares, fa­mous for sainctetie and miracles. He was buried in the Church of Glasghu, at whose tombe all manner of diseases were miraculously cured. His life was written by IOSGELINVS an auncient author, IOAN­NES ANGLICVS, and IOHN CAPGRAVE, whom we haue followed. Of him make mention NICHOLAS HARPSFIELD histor. Ecclesiast. sex primis saec. cap. 28. ARNOLD WION, and others.

The life of S. PETER Abbot of the holy order of Sainct BENEDICT.
IAN. 13. Out of venerable Bede.

PETER was a Roman Monk of S. BENEDICTS order, and one of those which were sent by S. GREGORIE the great with our first Apostle S. AVGVSTIN to preach the Ghospell of CHRIST vnto the English natiō. S. AVGVSTIN being consecrated Archbishop of Canturbury, sent back Laurence, and Peter his fellowes, to bring newes vnto the holy Pope of their good successe in the conuersion of England, and allsoe by his prudence and counsell to be resolued of some difficulties, which arose in the planting of Catholick religion in that new Church. This S. PETER at his returne into England was by the same S. AVGVSTIN ordayned the first Abbot of the Benedictin monasterie of Canturburie, erected by King Ethelbert, in honour of the Apostles S. PETER, and S. PAVL. Of the time, and manner of his gouernement in this office we haue nothing certaine; but that he led a verie vertuous and holy life, it is manisest, by that which S. BEDE writes of him: At length (sayth he) being sent Em­bassadour into France, he chaunced to be drowned in a gulfe of the sea betweene two c [...]pes, at a place called Ampleat; and being by the inhabitants committed to an ignoble buriall, it pleased all­mightie [Page 70] God to make knowne, of how great meritt the holy man was, by an heauenly light which appeared euerie night ouer his graue, vntill the neighbours vnderstood thereby, that certainly it was a holy man that lay buried there; and being better informed who it was, and whence he came, they tooke away his bodie, and carried it to the cittie of Bullein, where it was buried in a Church, after such reuerend, and honourable manner as became soe worthy a holy man. He died about the yeare of Christ 607. Of him doe make mention beside S BEDE, TRITHEMIVS in his worke of the famous men of S. BENEDICTS order, MOLANVS in his Catalogue of the Saincts of Bel­gia; and others, whom we haue followed.

The life of S, CEOLVLPHE King and Confessor, Monk of the holy order of S. BENEDICT.
IAN. 15. Out of venerable Bede de gest. Angl.

CEOLVLPH, after the death of King Osrick, was made King of the Northumbers: but the beginning, and progresse of his gouernement was encumbred with soe manie difficul­ties, and aduersities, that after some yeares triall thereof, entring into a serious consideration with him self of the miserable vncer­taintie, and vncertaine miserie of mans life; and perceauing how dangerous were the tumults, and precipices of this world, and that the greatest and most prosperous fortunes of Princes, were most of all subiect to decline, and chainge euen in a moment: and calling to mind the strict and rigid accompt that we must render of all our thoughts and actions at the day of iudgement before the dreadfull tribunall of the all seeing Iudge; he beganne soe farre to loathe the care of worldly things, and soe to despise those vaine honours, He resol­ueth to be a Benedi­ctin monk that forsaking the Royall estate, and robes of Maiestie, he put on the poore weeds of a monasticall humilitie, in the Benedictin mona­sterie of Lindissarne, or Holy-Iland; piously following herein the footsteps of six others his predecessors, English Kings. Now insteed of his crowne of gold, the token of soueraigntie, he wore his hayre [Page 71] shauen with a crowne made of the same, as the badge of a puni­shing humilitie: his royall sceptre by vertue whereof he bore sway, and authoritie in the world, was now turned to a breuiarie, where­vnto he was wedded, and he that before ruled a kingdome, was now vnder the check and commaund of a poore monk his superiour: for his chaines of gould, which were the ornament of his princely bo­dy, he is now content to vse a poore payre of beades, and thereon daily to reckon the number of his allmost numberlesse deuotions. He was a man in whom a great knowledge of things diuine and hu­mane was ioyned with an excellent pietie and singular deuotion: soe absolutely learned, that venerable BEDE the greatest schol­ler His lear­ning and pietie. and writer of our nation, dedicated his historie of England vnto him with the title of, MOST GLORIOVS KING, to be by his wisedom not only reuiewed, and read, but allso approued and if need were, corrected. The often reading of these bookes (he being of him self much addicted vnto the knowledge of antiquities, and especially of England) was a spurre vnto him allreadie incli­ned therevnto, to vndertake this monasticall life: In which when he had liued the space of all most twentie yeares, in the continuall exercise of pietie and deuotion, he gaue vp his holy soule, to re­ceaue for a temporall kingdom an eternall, amongst other blessed Kings, whom the same pious considerations had caused to leaue their scepters & purples, to be ranged vnder the humble enseigne of S. BENEDICT. The day of his death is vnknowne, but how full of merits and good workes he died, his buriall which was neere vnto His death the great Benedictin monk S. CVTHBERT, and the manie miracles which it pleased God to shew at his tombe, doe giue sufficient te­stimonie. Afterwards his bodie togeather with S. CVTHBERTS was taken vp and placed in a rich shrine in a more eminent place. Thus much of him we haue gathered out of venerable BEDE, WILLIAM MAL­MESBVRY de gest. Reg. Angl. lib. 1. cap. 3. BARONIVS tom. 9. ann. 737. NICOLAS HARPSFIELD saec. 8. cap. 21. ARNOLD WION lib. 4. ligni vitae cap. 6. de Regibus & regnis Benedictini ordinis, and other graue Authours.

The life of S. FVRSEVS Abbot and Confessor of the holy order of S. BENEDICT.
IAN. 16. Out of venerable Bede.

FVRSEVS borne in Ireland of Royall parents, but more en­nobled by his vertues then his birth, was famous for dignitie amongst his friends, but excelling ouer the world in the spe­ciall guift of diuine grace. He was of a beautifull forme, chast of bodie, deuout in mind, affable in discourse, of an amiable aspect, and replenished with grace, and good workes: brought vp from his verie infancie in the continuall studie of holy scripture, and mona­sticall His youth and lear­ning. discipline. And as he grew in yeares, soe grew he allsoe in the daily increase of vertue, and pious desires. For the better accom­plishment whereof, he forsaked his parents, friends, and natiue soyle, and betooke him self for the space of some yeares to the stu­die of holy scriptures; in which in short time he became sufficiently well instructed. But that the world might know that he did not only labour for him self, but for all those that sought the truth, he built a monasterie, which serued as a free-schoole of vertue, wherein he taught all that came vnto him the true way of saluation. Great was the number of people that flocked togeather vnto this holy teacher of vertue, by whose godly preaching, and deuout exhorta­tions, manie were not only retired from their bad manner of life, and brought into the right way of saluation; but allsoe were subie­cted vnto the regular obseruance of a monasticall order. Amongst these, he was desirous to haue the companie of some of his owne kinsinen, and for that end, he made a iourney vnto his natiue coun­trey: but in the way he happened to fall sick, and in this sicknes his soule, being as it were separated from her earthly lodging, en­ioyed a most delightfull vision of Angels, that seemed to lift him vp towards heauen, were he beheld an infinite companie of heauenly citizens, who with their sweet melodie filled his rauished vnder­standing with inestimable ioy and comfort. The dittie of their A vision. [Page 73] song was that versicle of the Psalme. Ibu [...]t Sancti de virtute in virtu­tem: vi [...]ebitur Deus Deorum in Sion. Holy men will proceed from vertue to vertue: the God of Gods shall be seene in Sion. This song they repeated of­ten-times with such rauishing tunes, as it is farre beyond the force of weake wordes to expresse. But being restored to his bodie, and him self againe, about the time that the cock giues warning of the dayes approach, he heard, in steed of the melodious harmonie of the Angels, the wofull lamentations, and cries of his friends and kins­follies, who all this time had watched at his bodie, which they sup­posed to be dead. But now perceauing him againe to come to him­self, their lamentation was changed into a fearefull admiration, and their admiration bred ioy to see him aliue. Then the holy man look­ing about him, and finding noe man, vnto whose wisedom he could committ the knowledge of the vision he had seene, was verie sorrowfull; choosing for that time, rather to burie it within the se­cret of his owne heart, then reueale it vnto such as knew not how to vnderstand it.

II. BVT the third day afterwards being againe taken with the like rauishment, he beheld nor only greater ioyes of the blessed compa­nie An other visiō most strange. of heauen, but allsoe the wonderfull warres, which the wicked spirits raysed against him, striuing to hinder his iourney towards hea­uen: allbeit the protection of the Angels frustrated their malicious endeauours. Manie false accusations they brought against him, and layd diuers crimes to his chardge, of all which by his guides the Angels, he was freely disengaged. And as he was lifted vp by these blessed spirits towards heauen, they commaunded him to looke downe into the world. Which done, he saw like a darke and inde­ous The 4. fiers of vice that burne the world. valley vnderneath him. And in the ayre he beheld fower fiers not farre distant one from the other: which they tould him were the fiers that should burne and consume the world. The first they sayd was the fier of Liars: which those fall into, that neglect to full­fill their promise made in Baptisme, in renouncing the deuill, and all his workes. The secōd was the fier of Couetousnes, appointed for such as preferre the riches of the world before the loue of heauen, and heauenly things. The third was the fier of Discord, prouided for those that sticke not to offend their neighbours, euen in trifling and su­perfluous matters. The fourth was the fier of Jmpietie, allotted for [Page 74] such as care not how they spoile, and oppres;se the inferiour, and weaker sorte of people. He beheld these fiers to encrease soe by little, and little till at length by spreading they came togeather and made one mightie huge and dreadfull flame, which seemed to approach neere vnto him. Whereat he cried out to his guide the Angel: O Lord, behold it cometh vppon me. Feare not (replied he) that which thou hast not kindled shall not burne thee. For allthough this seeme to be a mightie great and terrible fier, yet it only tries, and examines men according as their workes haue deserued: the worldly desires of men shall burne in these flames. For euen as one is enflamed in bodie by vnlawfull lust, and pleasure, soe released from his bodie he shall suffer his deserued torments in fier. Then he beheld one of the three Angels his guides, to walke before, and diuide the flames, and the other two conducting him on each side through the fier, defended him from the danger thereof. He saw likewise the deuils flieing through the flames, making fie­rie warres against the iust: then followed their manie accusations against him, and the Angels defence in his behalf, with a vision of a greater companie of heauenly spirits; as allsoe of manie men of his countrey and acquaintance, that he had knowne not vn­worthily to haue behaued them selues in the sacred function of Priesthood, of whom he learnt manie things verie profitable, as well for him self, as for all such as would heare them. When these had ended their discourse, and returned vnto heauen with the troupes of Angels, there only remained with B. FVRSEVS the three Angels his guides; with whom returned againe towards the foresayd fier, the Angel diuided the flame as before, but as the holy man en­tred into the way layd open for him, the wicked spirits caught vp one of those wretched soules which they broyled in those flames, and threw it at him; at the verie touch whereof, he found his shoul­der and cheeke to be scorched, and burnt. The holy man well knēw the person, and remembred that at his death he had giuen him a garment which he receaued. But the holy Angell taking the tormented soule cast him againe into the fier: whereat the wicked spirit cried out: Why doe you cast him of now, whom you receaued before. For as you tooke the goods of that sinner, soe ought you to partake of his torments. Not out of couetousnes (replied the Angel) [Page 75] but to saue his soule did he receaue it: and therewith the fier ceased. And the Angel turning vnto the holy man, sayd: that which thou di­dest kindle, now hath burnt thee: for hadest not thou taken the goods of this man dieing in sinne, the torment of his fier had not touched thee. And speaking further, he taught him what was to be done for the saluation of those that did repent.

III. BEING restored to him self againe, he bore all his life time after a visible signe of the burning which he had endured in his soule, vppon his shoulders, and cheeke, the Flesh euidently shewing to the wonder of all beholders, what the soule had inwardly, and hiddenly suffered. But he retained allwaies his wonted care, and di­ligence of following vertuous & pious courses, by word, worke, and example to teach, and preach the way of truth, and iustice vnto the world. Yet he would neuer manifest the order and manner of his visions but vnto such only, as out of a desire of repentance, or com­punction of hearth desired to know them. There liueth yet (saith Proofe of the fore­sayd vi­sion. venerable BEDE) an auncient Monke of our monasterie, who is wont to relate, that a certaine religious and trustie man▪ tould him that he had both seene S. FVRSEVS in the prouince of the East-An­gles, and heard the manner of these visions out of his owne mouth. Adding moreouer, that in the middest of winter, when the frost was most sharp, & cold, that sitting in a light and single garment recoun­ting these visions, eyther out of the greatnes of the feare he concea­ued, or of the sweetnes he receaued by the remembrance of them, he would sweate as much as if it had bin the hottest day of sommer.

IV. HAVING therefore a long time preached the word of God in Jreland his owne countrey, being not able anie longer easily to endure the great multitude of people that flocked vnto him, he for­sooke all that he seemed to enioy, & goeing out of his natiue coun­trey, with some few of his brethren in his companie, he passed the seas, and came through Wales into the prouince of the English, where he was honourably receaued, and worthily entertained by Sigebert then King of the East-Angles. But he, that desired where­soeuer he went allwaies to promote the seruice of allmightie God, beganne presently to putt in practise his accustomed trade of prea­dhing, labouring by the example of his vertues, or the inciting forces of his speeches, eyther to conuert the incredulous to [Page 76] the truth, or to strengthn, and confirme the faithfull more and more in the truth, and loue of IESVS CHRIST. Such were his daily labours, such were the pious employments in which he continually busied all the powers of his soule, and forces of his body.

V. BVT while these things are thus doeing he fell againe into an other sicknes, during which he enioyed the delightfull vision of An other vision. Angels, that admonished him to proceed with courage, and dili­gence in the happily begunne worke of preaching, as allso with an inuincible patience, to hold on his accustomed exercise of watching, fasting, and prayer: bicause that his death was certaine, but the hower of his death most vncertaine. With this vision being much confirmed in his pious courses, he hastened to build a monasterie on the land which King Sigebert had giuen him for that purpose: which done he instituted it with the regular discipline of a monasticall life vnder the holy rule of of S. BENEDICT. The situation of this mona­sterie by reason of the neerenes of the sea, and words was verie plea­sant: it being built in a certaine old castle called Cnobbersburg, that is the towne of of Cnobber: it was afterwards by Anna King of that prouince, and manie other noblemen, verie richly adorned with more stately edifices, and enriched with diuers guifts of great worth.

VI. And in this verie monasterie King Sigebert him self, being wea­rie Harp. saec. 7. cap. 15. King Si­gebert be­cometh a Benedi­ctin monk of the world and worldly cares, and desiring to giue his mind only vnto God, put of his princely robes, and leauing the gouern­ment of his King do vnto his cozen Edrick, betooke him self to liue vnder the humble weedes of a Benedictin Monke; iudging it more ho­norable in a cloister to conquer him self by obeying, then in the world to beare sway ouer others by commaunding. But long he had not enioyed this quiet life, when wicked Penda King of the Mer­cians making warre against his forsaken Kingdom, he was by force taken out of the monasterie by his owne friends, and made Gene­rall of their armie, which they presupposed would be much harte­ned and encouraged with his presence: Who to shew that his profes­sion was dearer to him then his life, put on no other armour then a good conscience, nor taking other weapon then a little rodd in The can­fidence of a secure consciēce. his hand, went securely, though vnwillingly, against the bloud­thirsting armies of his and CHRISTS enemies, where both he him­self, [Page 77] and King Egrick, vnto whom he had left the kingdom, happily lost this life to winne a better.

VII. BVT lets vs returne vnto S. FVRSEVS who now hauing, as we haue sayd, built a monasterie, and established it with the rule and disciple of a monasticall order, being desirous to free him self not only from all worldly cares, but allsoe from the gouernment of his monasterie, gaue vp the whole care thereof vnto his brother Fulla­nus; and being at libertie, he soe disposed of him self as meaning to spend and end the remainder of his life in an Anachoreticall or Ere­miticall life. He had an other brother called Vltanus, who out of the continuall probation of the monasticall, and claustrall manner of liuing had betaken him self to the solitarines of the desert. Vnto him FVRSEVS went alone, and togeather with him, he liued by the labour of his hands for the space of a whole yeare in continuall fa­sting and prayer, & doeing of pennance. But perceauing the coun­trey to be much disquieted by the frequent incursions of Pagans, and foreseeing the eminent danger of the monasteries, leauing all things in good order he sayled into Fraunce, where being honora­bly entertained by the French King Clouis the second, and Erconwald then Prouost of Peronne; he built a monasterie in a place called La­tiniacum, into which were introduced the monkes of S. BENEDICTS order, for as yet and manie yeares after there was noe other rule on foote but his, in all the Occidentall Church. And not long after S. FVRSEVS falling sick, he quickly felt the vehemencie of his disease to grow soe strongly vppon him as he plainly perceaued his time to draw neere: therefore recommending him self vnto God, and lifting vp his eyes towards heauen, he yeelded vp his pure soule into the hands of his Redeemer, the sixteenth day of January. Erconwald caused his bodie to be referued in the Church Porch of Peronne, where it remained for the space of twentie fix daies till the conse­cration of the new-built Church in the same towne was finished: at what time being taken vp it was found with no more signe of cor­ruption then if he had died but that verie hower.

VIII.FOWER yeares after a little chappell being erected on the East side of the high aultar, and dedicated to S. FVRSEVS, his bodie was taken, vp againe by the worthy Bishops Eligius and Ausbertus, and found to be vncorrupted as before; it was translated thither in [Page 78] most honourable manner: where it hath most manifestly appeared vnto the world that through his merits diuers miracles haue bene wrought by the allmightie worker of miracles who is wonderfull in his Saincts for euer. He flourished about the yeare 636. or as others say, 650. VSVARD, TRITHEMIVS, MOLANVS, BARONIVS, RABANVS MAVRVS, and manie others doe make mention of S. FVRSEVS. But this life we haue taken principally out of venerable BEDES historie of England.

The life of S. HENRY Hermite Confessor.
IAN. 16.

HENRY was borne of the nobler sort of Danes, & being come to such age as his face betrayed his sexe, his parents earnestly sollicited him to marrie; whereunto in the beginning he see­med not vnwilling: but the appointed day of his marriage draw­ing nigh, it was reuealed vnto him in a vision that he ought to ab­staine from all carnall copulation, and to keepe him self chast and pure from this world, by studieing rather how to please God, then a wife. Wherevppon suddainly leauing all his friends, and freeing He refu­seth to marrie. him self of the possession of those goods he enioyed, he tooke shipping at Tinemouth, and sayled about twentie miles into the sea to an Iland on the East side of Northumberland named Cocket from the riuer Cocket running there by: this Iland was in auncient times verie famous for a holy Conuent of Monkes that liued there. S. HENRY being thither arriued, with leaue of the Prior he entred the Iland, and hauing built him self a little lodge scarse of force to beate of the iniurie of the weather, he began to serue God in great rigour & austerity of life. For the space of some yeares he fasted continually His rigo­rous fa­sting. only with bread and water; afterwards he eate but thrise a weeke and three dayes in the weeke kept silence. In fower yeares before he died he satisfied his hunger only with little cakes dried in the sunne, made of barly meale mixed with pure water.

II. GOEING vppon a time in pilgrimage to Durham, he came to the bankes of the riuer Wyre, & not finding a boate readie to carry him [Page 79] ouer, he made his prayer to allmightie God, and presently without the helpe of man, a boate loosed of its owne accord from the other A strainge miracle. side of the riuer, and came ouer to the banke where he sate; into which he entred with his companion, and without anie sayle or oare, they were both wafted ouer in a moment. Hauing performed this pilgrimage, he returned to the place of his beloued solitude, where by the instigation of the deuill, the fierbrand of all mischief, he endured most vehement tentations of the flesh, that grew soe strongly vppon him, as often times he wished rather to suffer death it self, then soe painfully to struggle and fight against those impor­tune allurements. To encrease these vexations the Monke that was gardian or ouerseer of the Iland, did often treate him with very sharpe language, casting to his teeth manie contumelious, and dis­dainfull speeches, till at length admiring the wonderfull humilitie, ioyned to the continuall pietie and deuotion of the man, he threw him self prostrate at his feete, and with weeping entreaties hum­bly craued pardon for his temeritie. The holy man with great ioy taking him from the ground quickely pardoned whatsoeuer he had committed against him: and from thence forth their minds were euer after vnited in the band of true loue and charitie.

III. IN THE meane time messengers are sent from his parents, His friēds endeuour to recall him, but in vaine. who earnestly desire him to voutchafe to come ouer, and visitt his natiue countrey, friends, and kinsfolkes; which he vtterly refused to doe, stoutly affirming that for the loue of CHRIST, and hope of eternall life he had quite forsaken his countrey, and whatsoeuer else was deare vnto him therein, and therefore to returne to it againe, were to incurre that hard censure of CHRIST. Whoesoeuer layeth his hand to the plough, and looketh back, is not worthy of the Kingdom of heauen. They replied that Luc. 9. v. 62. in his owne countrey there were manie desert, and solitarie places much fitter for his purpose then this, which did expect him, and should be at his free disposition. Hereat being mooued with a na­turall loue to his owne countrey, he gaue some eare to their pea­swasions, but differred to giue them his absolute resolution till the next morrow, promising in the meane time to doe whatsoeuer should be pleasing and acceptable vnto God. The night follow­ing musing and pondering manie things in his mind, and being [Page 80] wholely ignorant and vncertaine what course to take, he had re­course vnto allmightie God, beseeching him with prayers washt i [...] the streames of his owne teares, to inspire what would be most ac­ceptable vnto his diuine goodnes for him to doe. Whē as he prayed, he heard a voice (seeming to come from the Crucifix before him) that forbad him to depart frō this solitude, but couragiously to hold on in the course he had begunne, promising a crowne of glorie for the reward of his labours, and perseuerance. Then falling prostrate See the force of his pious resolutiō. on the ground, giuing thankes vnto allmightie God, he desired that he would giue him such an impediment, as should hinder and re­taine him there, allthough he were desirous and willing to depart. He had his desire, for as he gaue him self to sleepe being wearied with the instancie of his watching, and prayer, he was suddenly strucken, as it were with a sword, that made him breake of his sleepe scarse well begunne; and putting downe his hand he felt him s [...]l [...] wounded with a most grieuous payne on his knee, which grow­ing daily worse and worse, grew at length to a mightie vlcer, out of which euery day ranne great store of corrupted matter, with such a stench, as it was insufferable to those that came neere him: insoe­much that the messengers, that came to fetch him thence, returned well inough satisfied, supposing that his friends (allbeit he were wil­ling) would not desire the companie of a creature soe loathsome as now he was.

IV. NOTWITHSTANDING all this, the holy man liued by the labour of his owne hands, and continued his daily worke in tilling his little peece of ground, which as he digged, he was glad to sustaine his owne vnablenes by the help of a staffe. When he waxed wearie of working, he wouldsitt him downe on a stone to rest, and expose his A strainge example. sore to the face of the sunne, with the heate whereof, the corrupted breed of the hidden filth therein, which was great store of creeping wormes, would sallie or issue forth; but (see the wonderfull patience o [...] this holy man) as they sell to the earth he would gather them vpp againe and restore them to their former possession, saying; Returne, returne, and consume the impure origine of your owne nature, whose inheritance you are. Allmightie God graunted to his tilling of a barren peece of ground, an incredible encrease of fruict from the little earth he had, and an encrease of patience vnto him self: [Page 81] for by how much the more sharply, and miserably the force of his grief did pearce into the strength of his bodie; with soe much the more alacritie of heart, in the anguish of his tribulation, did he all­waies giue thankes vnto his Maker, and referre him self to the dis­position of his diuine will, and prouidence.

V.THIS Blessed Hermite was soe illuminated by God, that he was wont to see and foretell not only things present, and at hand, His guift of farre­soeing & foresee­ing. but alsoe such as passed a farre off, and were but in future. For as once the Monke Guardian of the Iland came into his oratorie, he found him prostrate before the altar powering out a floud of bitter teares, which seemed to betray some great anguish of mind; of whom the Monke demaunded the cause of his sorrow: he looking vppon him with a blubberd face, made this answere: My owne bro­ther (sayd he) by the crueltie of malignant people is murdered with­in my Fathers owne land: and our Lord hath priuiledged and licen­ced Prayers and pe­nance for the dead. me to doe worthy penance for his soule. Therefore (my beloued master) be you a publisher of this my woe, vnto the Religious and others of your knowledge, that by the helpe of your prayers, suffra­ges, and almes-deeds he may be found worthy to receaue absolution from the paines, that his sinnes deserue.

VI.ONE THAT some dayes before had bestowed a towell vpon him, came againe to visitt him; to whom the Sainct: Hast thou as yet (sayd he) pacified the wrath of thy angrie wife, whose discon­tent was soe violent against thee for the small guift bestowed vppon me? Here take it againe, and giue it her if that will make her patient with thee hereafter. Thus would he obiect, and reueale vnto manie that came vnto him, those things which they thought to be most hidden, and secret, as directly as if he had seene all with his corpo­rall eyes: and of their secret faults he would sharply reprehend them, to the great wonder and admiration of the doers.

VII.AT LENGTH when like an other Job, in the continuall suf­fering of his lothsome grief, being alone in his poore cottage with­out the assistance of anie man, he had passed ouer some yeares, ouer­coming manie a teadious day, & irksome night with wonderfull pa­tience, the hower of his death drawing neere, wherein he should re­ceaue Heauenly musick at his death. the euerlasting rewards of his labours, there was heard in the ayre ouer his cell most melodious tunes of heauenly voyces, that [Page 82] enterchaingeably sung the hymne TE DEVM LAVDAMVS, to the end. In the meane time, a Monke that heard the sound of his little bell, ranne thither, and found him sitting on a stone with the bell-rope in one hand, and a candle burning in the other: And perceauing him to be dead, he put of his garment, and his hayre-cloath-shirt, & hauing washt his bodie with water, it became suddenly as white, and cleere as snow, neither did there remaine on his skinne anie signe or scarre of his former grief to be perceaued. His face seemed soe beautifull and resplendent, as he could hardly be knowne for the man he had bin; and he appeared as though not death, but a sweet sleepe had seased on his bodie.

VIII. THE Benedictine Monkes of Tinemouth hearing of his de­parture, mett togeather to carrie away the bodie, and burie it in their Church, but the people of the next Parish, fearing much to be robbed of soe great a treasure, according to their foretakē counsell gathered a multitude of men togeather and endeauoured to preuent the Monks by taking away the body by force to burie it in their owne church. But they were no sooner at sea, but there arose a thick mist, which painted the face of heauē with such an hidcous & darke picture of night, that those rauishers wandered out of their way they knew not whither, loosing both them selues, and the prey they sought for. The Monkes safely arriuing at Tinemouth with their holy lading, buried it very honorably neere vnto the body of S. OSWIN King and Martir, in an arch of the wall on the south side of the Church: where manie miracles were wrought afterwards by the intercession of this glorious Sainct. He died in the yeare of our Lord 1120. the sixteenth day of January. His life is extant at Antwērp in an auncient manuscript, out of which, IOANNES ANGLICVS, and IOHN CAPGRAVE we haue gathered the foresaid historie.

The life of S. DEICOLA Abbot and Confessor of the holy order ofS. BENEDICT.
IAN. 18. Written by Peter de Nata­libus in catal. SS.

DEICOLA borne in Jreland, when he came to such age that he was able to make vse of his time, went into France, where he liued vnder the worthie Benedictine Abbot S. COLVMBAN [Page 83] in the monasterie of [...]. But when S. COLVMBAN was by King Theodorick banished out of France (a place not worthie to con­tayne his vertues) he tooke with him into Italie S. DEICOLA, there (being able to carrie his old age noe further with S. COLVMBAN) he retired himself into a monasterie of Benedictin Monks called L [...]tra in Burgundie, where his holy conuersation, and vertuous life was soe He is made Ab­bot of Lutra. excellent, & pleasing to all, and he wonne soe great confidence, that he was made Abbot of the same place, by the free election of the Monkes; amongst whom he was admired for his great vertue and miracles. At length ouercome with old age, he ga [...]e vp the go­uernment of the monasterie to a vertuous disciple of h [...] [...]med Co­lumbine, and retired him self to a secret place, where he spent the small remnant of his life in continuall prayer and contemplation of Luc. 10. v. 42. that one thing which is only necessarie for the saluatio [...] of so [...]les. Till feeling the happie minute of his departure to draw nigh, he cal­led his brethren about him, and recommending vnto [...]hem the ob­seruance of true loue, and monasticall discipline, he denoutly re­ceaued the last Sacraments, and made a happie chainge of this tea­dious His death world for the sweet enioying of immortall happines, the eighteenth day of Ianuary. His bodie was buried in the same mo­nasterie, where on this day of his deposition, his memorie was yearly celebrated. His life we haue gathered out of PETER DE NATALIBVS in his Catalogue of Saincts, TRITHEMIVS in his historie of the famous men of S. BENEDICTS order, VSVARD, and others [...]ke worthie [...]ntion of S. DEICOLA; and the [...] Martirologe this day.

The life of S. WOLSTAN Bishop of Worcester, a Monk of the holy order of S, BENEDICT.
IAN. 19. Writtē by Senatus Brauon. a Monk of Worcester

THE beloued seruant of God S. WOLSTAN was borne in Warwickshire, of worthy and religious parents, who offered him to S. BENEDICT in the monastery of Peterborough, where his youth was piously trained vp, and instructed both in secular lear­ning, [Page 85] and Ecclesiasticall discipline, till he grew of yeares and suffi­ciencie that he was made Priest: In which sacred function he soe worthily behaued him self, that his godly manner of life was alwaies His man­ner of life being a Priest in the world correspondent vnto the height of his dignitie. He euer celebrated his Masse with wonderfull great grauitie, and reuerence, adding both before, and after that dreadfull sacrifice, daily preparations and prayers, in which for the most part he spent the whole day; be­ing contented for his poore maintenance, only with the voluntarie offrings of deuout people. The flower of his chastetie, as a rich treasure, he kept vndefiled all his life time. In a word, he led soe vertuous a life, that liuing in the world, he might be compared with the best, and preferred before manie Monkes in the Cloister. Soe continent in his diet, that he was neuer knowne to drinke one draught without necessitie; and allthough for a time he did eate flesh, yet he left that custom too, vppon this occasion. Being one day to goe forth vppon a speciall, and an vnexcusable necessitie, lest he should depart without his dinner, his seruants had sett a goose to the fier to be rosted against the end of Masse. In the meane time A strainge motiue to for [...]ake eating flesh. the holy man goes to the aultar, and being in the mid'st of the sacri­fice (because the Church was neere adioyning vnto his house) the strong sauour of the roast-meate struck into his nose, and caused a suddain distraction in his mind, in soe much that at first he seemed to haue bin ouertaken with a little glimpse of pleasure therewith. But recollecting him self, with an acknowledgment of his faulte, he ve­hemently endeauoured (but in vaine) to repell that cogitation. Whereat being stricken with the zeale of an holy anger against him self, he made a vow before the holy Sacrament, which he held in his hands, neuer to tast anie meate of that kind anie more. Masse be­ing ended, he departed about the affaires he had in chardge, without taking one bitt of meate, alleadging that the vrgencie of his iour­ney could suffer noe longer delay. And herevppon he abstained euer after from all manner of fleshie and vnctuous meates whatsoe­uer. Yet was he not so rigid as to condemne, or frowne on such as did eate flesh, but willingly permitted them, affirming merrily, that as for his owne part, he had noe desire to that kind of meate, and if anie flesh were pleasant to the tast, his opinion was, that larkes were most pleasing and daintie in the eating.

[Page 86] II. THE holy mans father whose name was Estan, and his mother Wlsgeue long before they died, agreed both to professe perpetuall chastetie, His parēts professe religion. and to liue separated vnder the holy habitt of religion, which they as faithfully performed, as they died happily: whose pious example (lest the fruict should degenerate from the tree) WOLSTAN resolued to follow, being of him self much inclined that way, and much more incited thereunto by the good perswasions of his mo­ther. He taketh the habit of S. Be­nedict. Therefore putting on a constant resolution, he forsoke the world, and in the monastery of Worcester (where his father had liued before) he receaued the habitt of S. BENEDICTS order by the hands of Brichthege then Bishop of the same place. It was rare to behold how in his verie entrance into the cloister, he began likewise to enter into a strict and religious course of life, exercising him self soe bra­uely in watching, fasting, prayer, and all other vertues, that he sud­denly appeared as a wonder amongst the rest of his brethren. Here­vpppon the good rule, and gouernment of his owne life, caused him to be chosen for Master and Guardian of the yonger Monkes or nouices; and afterwards by reason of his skill in singing, and knowledge of the Ecclesiasticall office, he was made Cantour, and Treasurer of the Church riches; by which office hauing gotten occa­sion more freely to serue God, he gaue him self totally to a contem­platiue life; remayning night and day in the Church, eyther at his prayers, or reading spirituall bookes; continually punishing his bo­dy with a fast of two or three daies togeather; soe giuen to holie watchings that not only a day and a night, but sometimes, (which (saith Roger Houedon a graue Authour) we could scarse beleene, had His won derfull vvatching we not heard it related by tradition from his owne mouth) he spent fower nights and fower daies without taking anie sleepe, in soe much that the drienes of his braine had like to putt him in danger of life, had he not speedily satisfied nature with some desired rest. And when weake nature forced him thereunto, he would not foster his wearied bones in a soft bed, but was wont to take a little sleepe lieing on a bench in the Church with his prayer-booke vnder his head in steed of a pillow.

III. BVT after some time Agelwin the Prior of the Monastery bing dead, WOLSTAN (by the election of the Monkes, and the au­thoritie He is cho­sen Prior. of Alred the Bishop) was constituted, and ordayned Priour [Page 87] in his place: which office most worthily he performed, not forget­ting allwaies to keepe in practise the austerity of his former conuer­sation; yea to giue the greater example of life vnto others, he en­creased it more and more. Three dayes in the weeke he abstained from tasting anie meate at all, obseruing continuall silence; the other three dayes his diet was rootes, or herbes boyled, and barly bread. Whilst he shineth in this high degree of vertue and pietie, the deuill enuying soe great goodnes assaulted him with a most horrible temptation. For praying one night in the Church before the high aultar, that wicked enemie of mankind appearing in the forme of a feruant at Court, with cruell importunitie chalenged him to wrestle, the holy man though already tired with patience, yet in his owne defence he grappled with him, and that soe stoutly, as three seuerall times he layd him along to receaue a rude salutation on the paue­ment: He wrest­leth with the deuill. yet in the last encounter he was soe breathlesse with the extre­mitie of labour, that panting and gasping for wind, he had allmost fallen into a sound. But the diuine clemencie was present to his ayde, and draue away that hellish monster to his place appointed; and WOLSTAN perceauing him soe suddenly vanished, then first vn­derstood that it was the deuill, whom before he tooke for a seruing­man; at whose only sight euer after he would waxe pale, and tremble and quake all his bodie ouer, with the very feare, and thought of what had past in this encounter. Which in him was much to be ad­mired, who otherwise was a man of a mightie courrage, soe farre His great courage. voyd of anie feare, as he was wont to say, he knew not what it meant. For he would ride ouer bridges that were broken, and dan­gerous, neuer allighting from his horse, and securely walke along the narrow ridges of high buildings without anie feare: that we may worthily say of him; Justus vt Leo confidens: A iust man is confident Prou. 28. v. 1. as a Lion.

IV. A LADIE very rich, and beautifull was soe farre besotted with a frantick, and vnlawfull loue to the holy man, and soe cruelly He is tēp­ted by a lasciuious woeman. vexed therewith, as her impure desire forced her beyond the limitts of shame, and brought her to such a degree of impudency, that she tore the vayle of modestie and layd open her filthie desire vnto him: praying and entreating him with sighs; and teares of sond loue, to remitt a while his wonted rigour, and voutchafe to take a tast of [Page 88] the delight of her bed-chamber: More she would haue sayd, but the holy man (who thought she had allready sayd to much) rose vp in a zealous anger, and quickly cutt off the threed of her vnchast dis­course, He reie­cted her. and arming his forehead with the signe of the crosse; Pack hence (sayd he) thou wicked firebrand of lust, daughter of death, and vessell of Satan; and thereat, with all his force he gaue her such a smart blow on the face, (which though it heated her cheeke yet it cooled her foule desires) that the sound thereof was heard all ouer the house. And by this meanes like an other vndefiled Ioseph, refu­sing to consent to her vile and wanton allurements, he bridled the vnchast desires of her heart, with the smart of an outward punish­ment.

V. HE WAS wont euerie Sonday with great care and deuotion He prea­cheth eue­rie Sun­day. publickly to preach the word of God vnto the people, at which one of the monks being without iust cause disconteted, reprooued him, saying, that it was the office of the Bishop only to preach, and teach, and that it better became a Monk as he, was to keepe silence within his cloister, and not to gadde abroade, and putt his sicle into other mens haruest. The holy man answeared: The word of God is not bound, 2. Tim. 2.and nothing is more gratefull then to preach CHRISTS Ghos­pell, and reduce his people out of errour into the true waie: there­fore he would not desist from soe good a worke. But the night fol­lowing that Monke receaued the iust punishment of his boldnes being in a vision called to account before the dreadfull tribunall of On [...] puni­shed by God for hindering Wolstans preaching an vnknowne iudge, who sharply rebuked him for his temeritie in checking his beloued seruant, and commaunded him to be layd along out he ground, where he was soe scourged with sharp whipps, as the teares which trickled downe his cheekes, and the black and blew markes of the stripes, which appeared on his shoulders when he awaked, were euident and feeling witnesses of what had past. When this was made knowne vnto holy WOLSTAN, pittying his ca­lamitie, he pardoned him the offence, and with his benediction, li­kewise gaue him soe perfect a cure of his griefe, that there remayned noe signe thereof to be seene.

VI. S. WOLSTAN standing aloose off, happened once to see one fall hedlong from the top of the steeple; at which woefull sight being suddenly strucken with grief, he made the signe of the crosse towards [Page 89] him as he fell, who coming to the ground armed with that si [...] of life, was nothing at all bruised or hurt with the markes of death: The wō ­derfull vertue of the signe of the crosse. but getting vp safe without anie helpe, he imputed the cause of his fall to his owne temeritie, and the miraculous preseruation of his life to S. WOLSTANS sainctetie.

VII. AFTER some yeares Alred of Worcester being chosen Arch­bishop of Yorke, the generall consent both of the Monks, and com­mon He is cho­sen Bish. people inclined totally to the election of WOLSTAN; holy King EDWARD allowing them to choose a Bishop, whom they pleased: Their election was confirmed by the Popes Legats who then liued at Worcester, expecting a dispatch of some affaires from the Kings Court. But WOLSTAN as obstinately resisted these honours, as He refu­seth to ac­cept it. manie now a dayes doe ambitiously labour to gett them; prochi­ming him self most vnworthy, and protesting by oathe that he would rather lay downe his neck to be diuided by the sharpe edge of the sword, then vndertake the burden of soe high a dignitie. Be­ing often times perswaded herevnto by manie vertuous & religious men, he would neuer consent, till at length well checkt and sharply rebuked for his obstinacie, and disobedience by the holy man of God Vlsius, (an Anachorite who had then liued a solitarie life aboue fortie yeares,) and terrified with a heauenly oracle, his constancie was broken, and he to his great grief compelled to yeeld and con­sent to their desires. Therefore on the feast of our B. Ladies Nati­uitie, by the hands of Alr [...]d Archbishop of Yorke, (Stig and the vsurper of Cauturbury then being suspended from his function,) he was or­dayned, Ouer­come with per­svvasion he is or­dained bi­shop. Joan. 1. v. 47. and consecrated Bishop of Worcester, in presence of holy King EDWARD the Confessor, in the twentith yeare of his raigne, In this consecration S. WOLSTAN opening the Bible (as the manner was) happened on this sentence worthily deuining of him, Behould a true Jsraelite in whom there is no [...] deceipt. For he was an open plaine man, voide of all quain [...] deuices of dissimulation. Yet was he not soe meerely simple, as easily to suffer him self to be cosened, by the greatest and wisest masters of deceipt: the allmightie wisedom manie times giuing euident restimonie, approuing the vertuous innocencie of his simplicitie. For when Thomas Archbishop of Yorke would haue reduced the Sea of Worcester vnder his iurisdiction, and did wrongfully alienate and detaine some of the lands, and meanes [Page 90] the [...] belonging, a verie sharpe controuersie was had there vp­pon in presence of the King, the Bishops, and other Peeres of the Realme, to decide this case, whereon depended a great part of the Bishop of Worcesters estate. In the meane time S. WOLSTAN goeing out o [...] the Councell, maturely to deliberate with his Monks concer­ning this weigh [...]ie matter, that [...]oe neerely touched their freehould; when all their minds were most eagerly attentiue to the diligent exa­mination See his wonder­full con­tempt of the world in respect of the di­uine ser­uice. of their cause. Beleeue my Brethren (sayd WOLSTAN) we haue not yet song None; therefore let vs goe [...]ing it. The Monk [...] offended herewith: First (replied they) let vs dispatch the busines we came for, and studie our answeare to the Councell, we shall haue time inough to [...]ing afterwards: Beleeue me (answeared he) we will first doe our duties to God, and then debate the contentious reasons of those humane affayres. Therefore hauing without anie delay dispatched the ninth hower, he commaunded his Monks, that were very sollicitous of the euent of their cause, to depose all care, con­stantly affirming that he saw the [...]B. Bishops and Saincts, DVNSTAN, and OSWALD, who would defend both them, and their cause against all thei [...] aduersaries. Neyther was he anie thing deceaued for entring into the Councell with great alacritie, and boldnes, he gott the sen­tence of them all in his owne behalf, against Thomas Archbishop of Yorke, who then willingly yeelded, and very earnestly desired WOL­STAN to make a visitt in his diocesse, and instruct the people with the pietie of his sermons: Which allthough they did not [...]low from him with that abundance of humane science, and flanting eloquence The ver­tue of his preaching as other men made shew off, yet his speeches tooke such deepe roote and impression in the breasts of his audience, and touched them soe to the quick, that he would moue to repentance and amendment of life more then anie others Preachers that were. For his singular innocencie of life, ioyned to the manie miracles which it pleased God through his merits to shew vnto the world, did pearce, and sting the hardest hearts, and draw euen his aduersaries (though vn­willing) to loue, and honour him. But among all his miracles this ensuing is worthy eternally to be recorded in the Church of God.

VIII. IN A Councell held at Westminster, were besides the King with the Bishops, and Peeres of England, were present a Bishop and two Cardinals the Popes Lega [...]s from Rome, after they had deposed. [Page 91] Stigand a secular Priest out of the sea of C [...] which by i [...] ­sion he had vsurped; the King Willia [...] Conquerour pretending in­sufficiencie The coū ­cell dispu­te of his depositiō. of learning, and want of the French tongue in S. WOL­STAN by all meanes endeauoured to depriue him of his office and di­gnitie, (meaning belike to putt some Norman in his place) and L [...] ­fr [...]ck Archbishop of C [...] vnaduisedly following the Kings opinion, commaunded the holy man without further delay to re­signe vp his staffe, and [...]i [...]g the chief armes and [...]signes of his Epi­scopall dignitie. WOLSTAN without anie sh [...]w of alteration eyther in mind, o [...] in countenan [...]e, stood vp, and houlding his c [...]o [...] staffe in his hand: In very d [...]ed, my Lord Archbishop (sayd he) I know, that I am [...]yther worthy of this honour, nor fi [...]t for s [...]e great a His speech to the coun­cell. burden, nor able rightly to vndergoe the labour, this I know, and this did I know before, when the Monks elected [...], when the Bi­shops compelled me, and when holy King EDWARD my s [...] [...]ed me to this [...]. He, by the au [...] of the Sea Aposto­licke layed this burden on my [...]ke shoulders, and by this staffe commaunded me to be [...]sted with Episcop [...]ll dignitie: now you exact me to giue vp the p [...]st [...]r all [...], which you bestowed [...] you take away the office which you [...] me [...]. And [...]ly, I am soe farre from being ignorant of mi [...] w [...] insufficiencie, that sub­mitting my self to the sentence of this holy con [...]rie, I will indeed resigne vp my staffe of offices but to whom? to you? [...]e, but rather to him, by whose authoritie [...] first receaued it. Hauing sayd these words, he went directly to S. EDWARDS s [...]rine, and there speaking to the holy Sainct: Thou know oft, my [...]aigne Lord (sayd he) His speech be­fore S. Edwards shrine. how vnwillingly I vnder [...]ook [...] this char [...]ge, how of [...]ē I auoiyded i [...], how often I hidd, and absented my self, when I was sought for, to [...] it. I confesse I playd not the part of a wise man, in taking it; but thou di [...] force me to it. For all [...]hough [...]-neyther the election of my brethren, [...]on the desire of the people, the consent of the Bishop [...], no [...] the fauo [...] of the Nobles; yet t [...]y sole authoritie ouer me, weighed downe all these, thy will vrged me more then all the rest. But now, new Lord [...], new lawes, our new Archbishop and our new King make new [...]rees, and promulgate new op [...]. They seeme to condemne thee of errour, who di [...] co [...]d, and me of presumption, who consented. And then [...] as a mor­tall [Page 92] man thou mightest well be deceaued, but canst thou now being vnited by the liuing God? Therefore I will not resigne to them, that exact what they gaue not; who as being humane creatures may deceaue, and be d [...]ed, but to thee who didst first giue it, and who now translated into the very truth it self, hast escaped th [...] darke night of errour, and ignorance, to thee, I say, I willingly re­signe my staffe of office, to thy cure I committ the chardge of those thou hast commended vnto mee; and to thee I may securely leaue them, thy meritts being soe well knowne vnto me.

IX. HAVING spoken these wordes, a little lifting vp his hand full of a confidence more then humane, he struck his crosier staffe into the stone which couered the holy Kings bodie, saying: Take He yeel­deth vp his office. it, my soueraigne Lord, and giue it to whom thee pleaseth. And put­ting of his Epis [...]pall robes, returned againe to his cowl [...]d hood, and became a simple Monk among the Monks. All men wondred to see the staffe soe stedfastly fastned in the stone, as if there it had taken roote. But when some, attempting to take it away, had fayled of their intent, the matter was related to the Councell, whence [...] ­frank A notable miracle. presently sent Gundulf Bishop of Rochester to the tombe to fetch it▪ who was not able to stirre [...] with all his force; Lanfrank astoni­shed with the strangenes of the miracle, hastened to the tombe him self, togeather with the King, and the other Bishops, and hauing first made his prayer to allmightie God, he tried with all the force he had to take away the staffe, but in vaine. Hereat the King being stricke [...] with admiration, cried out that this was all the handie worke of God him self: The Archbishop in like manner now dissoluing into tear [...], ingenuously confessed his errour vnto the holy man, saying: Verily our Lord is iust, and he walketh with the simple, and his communication is with those that are humble. Deare brother, [...]e ha [...] derided thy holy simplicitie: but God hath brought forth thy iustice as the day light. Our rash iudgment hath erred against thee, and hath made knowne to the world thy simplicitie soe grate­full vnto God. By the authoritie therefore of the office we exer­cise, or rather by the iudgment of God himself, which hath con­uinced He is re­st o red to his bisho­prick. vs, we againe restore thee to the dignitie, and impose the chardge vppon thee, which vnaduisedly we endeauoured to take away. But WOLSTAN alleadging his owne vnabl [...], and preten­ding [Page 93] the burden to be beyond his forces, did contend, that in soe sacred a place ought to be placed a holy prelate. Notwithstanding ouercome with their instant intreaties, in sight of them all he came vnto the sep [...]lc [...]r, and taking the crosier staffe in his [...]and, drew it forth with as great facilitie, as if it had stuck but in [...] peece of soft clay or [...]. Then the King and L [...]frank both fell pnostrate at his feete, desiring pardon of their errour, and ear [...]tly recommending them selues to his holy prayers, finding hereby to be most true, that God hath made foolish the wisdom of this world; and the foolish things thereof he hath chosen, that he may [...] the wife. The holyman that would 1. Cor. 1. not be behind them in [...]litie, and courtesie; seeing them pro­strate before him, with all submission of mind prostrated likewise at their feete whence he would not rise without the Archbishops bene­diction; which done, he returned to his chardge.

X. A WOEMAN possessed with a wild deuill, that caused her [...]a­uingly to wander vpp and downe the fields, and desert, war by the He cureth possessed persons. benediction of S. WOLSTAN restored to her self againe, and deliuered from the power of that wicked spiritt: the Sainct commaunding her to giue prayse & thankes vnto allmightie God, & not to WOLSTAN: to loue vertue, and liue chastly, left some worse mischief should be­fall vnto her. She following his holy admonitions, entred into a Nunnerie, and led a life therein both gratefull, and acceptable vnto allmightie God. [...]n other possessed person that was bound to a post with iron chaines, speaking and roaring out a confusion of soe ma­voyces, that those that heard thought he had had an armie of men in his bellie, which spake through his mouth. The holy Bishop coming towards him, he beganne to tremble and quake in all the parts of his bodie, to gnash and grind his teeth, to fo [...]me at the mouth, and horridly to bellow out against him; The Bishop much pittying his woefull case, lifted vp his hands to heauen, and deuoutly made his prayers vnto allmightie God for his deliuerie: and the end of his prayer brought a beginning of perfect health and libertie to the tormented person.

XI. A LEAPER vglie, and horrid to behold, spotted all ouer his He hea­leth a lea­per. bodie with the vnseemely markes of his disease, washed him self in a bath wherein was putt the water that had washed S. WOLSTANS hāds, and presently the swelling of his blister [...] [...] [...]asswaged, the conta­gious [Page 94] matter ranne out, and all his bodie became as pure and cleere as a yong childs. [...] a nunne, daughter to King Harold, was troubled with such a dangerous swelling in her eyes, that her [...]ylidds being growne to thick lumpes of flesh, had quite couered her sight, and [...]illed the pitts of her eyes with a masse of superfluous substance. But hauing receaued S. Wol [...]tan benediction, she opened her [...]y­lidds againe, and obtained her desired [...]ight.

XII. One Elsine, that sometimes had bin a seruant vnto holy King Enwa [...]d, intreated the good Bishop to con [...]ecrate a new Church. In the Church-yard grew a great [...] tree, which sprea­ding The ver­tue of S. wolstans maledi­ction. her branches to [...] extra [...] dina [...] breadth, cast a verie large, and pleasant shadow on the ground; but withall much darkened the Church windowes. Vnder this tree El [...] was wont to play at d [...]ee, and banquet with his friends, and therefore would by noe meanes (according to the Bishops [...] [...]d perm [...]t it to be cu [...]t downe, but sayd; that he had rather the Church should remayne vnconse­crated, then no giue way v [...] such (as he thought) a pittifull act. Therefore holy Wolstan c [...] the [...] of his [...]alediction against that tree, which as i [...] were, wounded therewith, waxed barren by little, and little, and in a short time, [...]ithered and dried vp to the ve­ry [...]: Whereat the Owner i [...] a rage, commaunded it to be cutt dow [...]e protesting that nothing was more [...]itter then Worstans malediction, and nothing more sweete then his blessing.

XIII. A [...]s [...]able was [...] observed a con [...]nuall lecture of such Reading at his ta­ble. bookes, as might edifie the heare [...]s, during which cu [...]rie man kept great silence. And after meate, that he might impart spirituall foode vnto their soules, whose bodies he had [...]edd with nourish met, he would expound the lesson that had bin reade, in his mother ton­gue. But after dinner, when according to the custom they brought wine to the table, he would only take pure water, none knowing there of but his seruant. In his yonger yeares he dranke pure water only, in his ould age he began to mingle it with a [...]e wine, or beere. He seuerely obserued order and discipline in his house, as well with his secular as Ecclehasticall persons; his law was that all The dis­cipline of his house. should be present both at Masse and all other howers of the office. He appointed guardians of purpose, to watch that noe man should laugh vnpunished: otherwise he eyther wanted his drink that day [Page 95] or receaued a sharp blow on the hand with a pa [...]mer, or ferula. Whensoeuer on busines he sent anie of his seruants abroade, he strictly enioyned them to say their prayers seauen times a day; affir­ming that as the Monks their seauen flowers, soe the lay men ought to offer seauen prayers a day vnto God. Whosoeuer swore an oath in his presence, straight without anie intermission felt the reuenge of the pa [...]mer. He would be much mooued if anie man before him did back bite, and detract other mens liues, or carpe at their man­ners; for this he iudged to be a part of extreame malice.

XIV. He was wont euerie night after a short sleepe, to rise out of his bed, and recite his psalter, sometimes alone, fearing to hinder His night­ly prayers others rest; sometimes with one of his Monks, whom he perceaued to be more vigilant then the rest. One night he sharply rebuked the drowsines of the brother that recited with him, who neuerthelesse did not seeke to driue away his heauines, but sate gaping, and yawning at his prayers, with the signe of an vnwilling mind: After­wards when that Monke betooke him self to his rest in bed, he was in a vision shaken out of his sleepe, and being well lasht with stripes by an vnknowne hand, he was iustly punished for his lazines: till in the end he faithfully promised neuer more to hinder the holy man in his pious deuotions. The holy Bishop was wont to heare at least two Masses euerle day, and to sing the third him self. Being to take His daily exercise of deuo­tion. anie iourney, he was noe sooner on horseback, but he began to say his psalter, and neuer paused till he came to the end. His Chamber­laine had store of almes alwaies in a readines, whereof he was neuer to denie the needie that askt it. Wheresoeuer he lay, stood, or wal­ked, some deuout psalme or himne was allwaies in his mouth, and the figure of CHRIST in his heart. In euerie one of his villages he had a little closett, where he kept close allwaies after Masse, till his Cleark called him eyther to dinner, or howers. When he remayned at home in Worcester, he would allwaies sing high Masse in his weeke, and manie other times he would supplie the place of the Hebdomadarie, or weekly Priest therein; which office he sayd, that he more esteemed He would sing masse in his turne. then his Bishoprick, and he would chose rather to be depriued of this, then exempted from the other. He was allwaies present at the Monkes collation, whence he would goe with them to the Church; and the benediction at the end of Compline (as the manner is) [Page 96] being giuen, he retires himself to his lodging.

XV. WHEN his Monks remooued to a larger and fayrer Church which he him self had erected, looking on the destruction of the old one built by S. OSWALD, he could not containe him self from w [...] ­ping: wherevppon being modestly reprooued, that he ought rather to reioyce, since in his time soe great an honour, and increase hap­pened to his Church, and that by the abundant number of Monkes, the buildings were likewise enlarged: I consider it farre otherwise His won­derfull humilitie. (sayd he) to wirt, that we wretched sinners doe destroie the workes of our holy predecessors, thereby to purchase all the praise, and glo­rie vnto our selues. That innocent age was not acquainted with glo­rious and stately edifices, but in those daies men were contented to sacrifice them selues▪ vnto allmightie God, and by their example draw their subjects to the like, vnder the defence of anie poore homely roofe: When we, neglecting the care of mens soules, doe striue only to eternise our names in raysing vp high towers, and stable buildings to heauen. Thus out of the glorie of his owne [...] ­roiq [...]e deeds, would he gather the rich basenes of humilitie.

XVI. HE HAD an admirable grace in composing of discorde, [...] bringing dissentious people within the lawes of loue, and friend­ship: to which purpose making▪ sermon on a time, he touched ma­nie soe to the quick, that they, who were bitter enemies before, re­turned to a mutuall league of friendship. But amongst the rest there was one who feared not to bragge openly, that he would neuer de­pose the enmitie, and hatred he had conceaued against his enemie: to whom the Bishop (fayling by anie perswasions, or fayre meanes to bring him to an attonement) sayd: Blessed (saith CHRIST) are the peace-makers, for they shall be called the children of God. Is it not mani­fest Matt. 5. then, that all peace-breakers, and such as by noe reason will be reduced to make peace, may be called, yea and are the sonnes of the de [...]ill? To him therefore whose sonne thou art, for thy contuma­cic, 1. Cor. 5. I committ thee, and deliuer thy bodie to Satan, that thy soule may be A terrible. punish­ment of one that would not forgiue his ene­mies. saued in the day of iudgement. He had scarse ended these words, when the miserable wretch by the g [...]ashing, and grinding of his teeth, the gastly staring of his eyes, his foaming at the mouth, and antick tur­ning, and rouling of his bodie into strange postures, gaue euident restimonie by what diabolicall spiritt he was gouerned. At length [Page 97] being freed againe by S. WOLSTAN: he was the second, and third time possessed in like manner, vntill from the bottom of his heart; he promised to forgiue his enemies.

XVII. THE vertuous life of this holy man was ennobled with manie other miracles, and wanted not the guift of prophesie. By S. Wol­stan [...] guift of pro­phesie. which he disswaded one Ailwine, (who a long time had liued a soli­tarie life at Mal [...]erne hills) from his desire of goeing to Hierusalem, foretelling him, that God allmightie would worke wonderfull things by his meanes. Ailwine yeelding vnto his perswasiōs, founded afterwards a famous monasterie of S. BENEDICTS order at Mal [...]erne, where he gathered togeather the number of three hundred Benedi­ctine Monkes.

XVIII. ONE Sewulf, (whom he had often exhorted to embrace a monasticall life, to doe worthie penance for his sinnes,) excusing him self, and alleadging that the rigour of it did exceed his weaknes of bodie: the Bishop sayd; Well, goe this waie, thou shalt be a Monk whether thou wilt, or noe. At length waxing old, he tooke the habitt of S. Benedicts order at Malmesburie, where the very re­membrance of S. Wolstans words, euer after thundered a milder, and humbler behauiour into him.

XIX. As on a time he stroaked the head of a little boy called Nicholas, whom he brought vp from a child, and now euen in his A Wōder youth, beganne to loose his hayre; I think my sonne (sayd he) thou wilt shortly be bald: and why Father (replied the boy) doe not you keepe my hayre on my head? Beleeue me sonne (answered the holy Bishop) as long as I liue, soe much as remaynes, shall not fall away: And soe it came to passe. But within the verie weeke that the holy man died, all that yong mans hayre went soe cleane away, that there remayned nothing but the bare scull.

XX. Newes being brought him that his sister was dead; Now then (answered he) the plough is come into my land; and verie He fore­seeth his owne death. shortly the brother will follow his sister. Neyther was he a false Prophet, for within a short time after, being taken with an extreme seauer, his old age soone perceaued, that death was at hand. Then nothing was to be seene among his monks, and other friend [...] about him, but teares, sighs, and lamentations, woefully bewailing the losse of soe pious a Father. When he on the other side with a deuout ex­hortation [Page 98] proceeding from a ioyfull countenance stroue to appease their griefs, saying, that his death would be noe losse of life, but a change for a better; promising not soe to forsake them, but that with his prayers to allmightie God, he would for euer assist them: His great confidēce in almigh­tie God. and that being free out of his prison of clay, by how much neerer he was ioyned vnto God, by soe much readier he would be to com­fort, and defend them. Thrise happie tongue, that out of the store­house of a secure conscience, durst power out words of soe great confidence. Some with sighs, and sobbs desire to haue him prayd for, and he largely promiseth to pray for them all. O strange won­der! See how his holy simplicitie was ignorant of hauing anie diffi­dence in the mercie of allmightie God. Therefore in the yeare of our Lord 1095. this glorious confessor of CHRIST, this bright starre of the Benedictine order in England, hauing with a wonderfull rare example of holy life, gouuerned the Sea of Worcester, the space of thirtie fower yeares, deliuered vp his vertuous soule into the hands His death of his creatour, to receaue the rewards of his worthie labours, the ninteenth day of January, in the eightie seauenth yeare of his age. His bodie was brought into the Church, and detained there three dayes vnburied. The very forme and complexion thereof, seeming rather to sett forth the gracefull beautie of a liuing Bishop, then the horrour of a dead corps. The Episcopall ring, which he had recea­ued at his consecration, manie yeares before his death would not hang on his finger: for his flesh was soe consumed by his extreme penance and austerity of life, that his bodie was nothing but skinne, and bone. But although his ring often times fell from his finger thus A notable miracle. consumed, yet was it neuer lost: and he did often say, that he would carrie with him to his graue that ring, which without ambition he had receaued. Being dead, diuers essayed to take off his ring, but in vaine, for that which before fell off manie times of it self, by noe vio­lent meanes could now be drawne off. The fourth day he was buried with great reuerence, by Robert Bishop of Hereford, who long before had entred into a strict and holy league of friendship togeather with S. WOLSTAN.

XXI. SOME yeares after his death, a mercilesse fier taking hould of the topp of the Church, burnt, and consumed it in miserable sort, An other as strange. the lead came powring downe, like rayne, the great beames, their [Page 99] supporters being consumed, as whole trees tumbled to the ground; soe that in such a confused wrack of ruine, it seemed nothing that was within the compasse of the Church could escape the rage of the fier. Yet the sepulcher of the blessed Sainct remayned free from these outrageous flames, and was not as much as touched, or smut­ched with anie of the coales, ashes, or anie thing else that fell from aboue. And to giue greater euidence to the miracle, the verie straw­matte on which those did kneele, that prayed before his tombe, was found whole and vntoucht.

XXII ABOVT a hundred yeares after his death, his holy body was taken vp, and enclosed in a very pretious shrine, being found in all His body vncorru­pted after an hun­dred yea­res. his Pontificall robes, as entier and vncorrupted as when he was layd in the ground. The feast of his translation is celebrated the seauenth of Iune. Manie other miracles were wrought by the supreme wor­ker of miracles, through the intercession and meritts of this blessed Sainct, which I willingly omitt; my purpose being not to write Saincts liues, that the world may only wonder at their miraculous deeds, but chiefly to draw men to imitate their vertuous liues: Yet in this historie we haue had great store both of vertues and miracles. God of his infinite goodnes, giue vs grace to admire, and prayse his diuine power in the one, and to follow the vertuous examples of his blessed Sainct in the other. Amen.

His life we haue taken chiefly out of the author of it SENATVS BRAVON. a Monk of Worcester. Besides whom, WILLIAM MALMESBVRY de Pontif. Ang. lib. 4. and de gest. Reg. Ang. lib. 3. ROGER HOVEDON part. 1. Anal. an. 1062. and 1095. BARONIVS tom. 11. an. 1062. 1070. 1072. 1074. MATHEW WESTMINSTER anne 1074. NICHOLAS HARPSFIELD saec. 11. cap. 24. and manie others doe largely speake his vertues and prayses. Jn the SARVM breuiary he hath an office of nine lessons; and in an anncient manu­seript Breuiary of S. BENEDICTS order, which belonged to the monastery of Burton vppon Trent he hath an office of three lessons on this day.

The life of S. ERMENBVRG Queene and Abbesse of S. BENEDICTS order.
IAN. 21. Out of Mathew Westmin. & others

SAINCT ERMENBVRG daughter to Ermenred, brother of Er­combert King of Kent, was maried vnto Merwald King of the Mercians, with whom she had the hapines to be the mother of the three holy Virgins, Milburg, Mildred, and Mildgith, whom she brought vp soe piously, as afterwards they all embraced a monasti­call life, and became Nunnes, and Saincts of S. BENEDICTS order: their mother also Queene Ermonburg, allthough her husband was yet liuing, yet she was soe taken with the desire of a solitarie and mona­sticall life, that she neuer rested vntill she had obtained the consent of her husband to the furtherance of her vertuous desire. Which being gotten, she went into Kent, to her cozen Egbert, that raygned there, and made him acquainted with her holy purpose, earnestly entreating him to putt his helping hand to the perfourmance of her good intentions. Egbert being much moued at soe great deuotion, gaue her a peece of land at the towne of Estrey in Kent, according to her owne election, and built her a monasterie vppon it dedicated to the two holy Martyrs Ethelbert, and Ethelred her brothers: Where S. Of Ethel­bert and Ethelred see the seauen­teenth of October. ERMENBVRG, hauing gathered togeather the number of seauentie other Nunnes vnder the holy order of S. BENEDICT, spent the rem­nant of her life in the continuall exercise of religion, and vertue, gouerning the monasterie as Abbesse with all true obseruance of re­gular discipline, vntill by allmightie God she was called out of this world, to receaue the euerlasting reward of her meritts in a better. What day she died it is vncertaine, but this one and twentith of Ja­nuary is made a commemoration of her. Of this blessed Sainct doe make mention MATHEW WESTMINSTER ann. 654. & 676. WILLIAM MAL­MESBVRY de gest. Reg. Angl. lib. 1. c. 1. & de gest. Pontif. Ang. l. 4. and NICHOLAS HARPSFIELD hist Eccl. saec. 7. cap. 10. whom we haue followed.

The life of S. THEORITHGID virgin andnunne of S. Benedicts order.
IAN. 22. Out of venerable Bede. hist. de gest. Ang. lib. 4. c. 9.

THEORITHGID was scholler vnto the holy Abbesse S. EDIL­BVRG, 1. Cor. 12. in the Benedictine monastery of Berking in Essex; where she liued for manie yeares euer exercised in the diligent ser­uice of almighth tie god, with all humilitie, and sinceritie, and helping S. EDILBVRG the Abbesse to keepe the true obseruance of regular discipline, she was the mistresse to correct and instruct the yonger sort or nouices. But, that her vertue, might (as the Apostle sayth) be made perfect in infirmitie, she was suddenly taken with a most greiuous sicknes, and through the merciful prouidence of our redeemer, she was afflicted there with for the space of nine yeares, that whatsoeuer spott of filthy sinne, by ignorance, or negligence had crept in and gott place amongst her other vertues might be quite par [...]ched, and burnt vpp in the painfull furnace of a long tribulation.

II. THIS HOLY virgin goeing out of her bed one night, towards the She en­ioyeth a strange vi­sion. dawning of the day, saw manifestly as it were the body of one brighter then the sunne it self, caried vpp on high in a white sheete from wards the dorter where the sisters tooke they rest, till at length it was drawne out of her sight into the opē heauens; by this vision she supposed to be signified, that some one of her sisters was shortly to be called out of the world: as indeed it fell out, for within a few dayes S. EDILBVRG the Abbesse chainged this life for a better.

III Now when THEORITHGID the blessed handmayd of CHRIST had liued three yeares more after the death of the Abbesse, she was soe farre spent with the forenamed sicknes, that her skinne, and bones did scarse hang togeather; and at the last the time of her de­parture drawing neere, she lost not only the vse of all her other limmes but was not able to moue (that member which is most vo­luble) her tongue. In which case hauing endured wonderfull paines for the space of three dayes, and three nights, being then recreated with a celestiall vision, she opened her eyes, and cherefully looking [Page 102] towards heauen, began to speake in this manner vnto the vision she beheld: Thy coming is very gratefull vnto me, and thou art har­tyly S. Edil­burg ap­peareth vnto her & reuca­leth the hovver of her death. welcome. This sayd, she was silent as it were expecting the ans­weare of the partie she spake vnto. And againe as she were a little moued; I cannot (sayd she) gladly endure this. Presently after a short silence, she spake the third time; If it cannot be to day I be­seech thee that it be not long delayed. Then being silent a while she concluded thus: If it be fully soe ordayned, and that this sentence cannot be changed, I beseech thee that there be this only night between. Being demaunded with whom shee held this discourse: She answeared, with my most deare mother EDILBVRG. Whereby they vnderstood that her coming was to bring newes that the time of THEORITHGIDS departure was at hand. For according to her desire after that day and the nex night, being deliuered out of the prison / of her weake bodie, she tooke her flight to the cele­stiall paradise to receaue the eternall reward of her sufferings. She died about the yeare of our Lord six hundred seauentie eight. Thus much we haue taken out of VENERABLE BEDE de gest. lib. 4. cap. 9. and NI­COLAS HARPSFIELD. saec. 7. cap. 14. Of her doe make mention MOLANVS in append. ad VSVARDVM and ARNOLD WION in append ad suum Martirolog.

The life of S. Cadox, Bishop, and Martir.
IAN. 25. Out of Ioannes Anglicus.

S. CADOCK was bone in Wales os noble parents, his father was cal­led Gundley, his mother Gladusa; being baptised by an Anachorite of that countrey, vnder the same mans care he was brought vp and instructed in the rudiments of Christian religion: in which he pro­fitted wonderfully. Being yet but a youth, he bore the mind of an aged man, refusing to follow such youthfull sport, as his equalls in­uited him vnto, truely considering that in the later day laughter shall be chainged into weeping, and weeping into ioy. At length de­parting from his master, and his natiue soyle, he built a monasterie He buil­deth a monasterie. in Glamorganshire about three miles distant from Cowbridge, into which hauing gathered a good number of monkes, he instituted them in the rules of a monasticall life. The monasterie was called [Page 103] Llancarnanan, that is, the seruice of Harts, because it is reported that in that work he had wild Harts familiar and obedient vnto him: There in very great abstinence, he led a solitarie life, night and day ap­plying him self vnto the contemplation of heauen, and heauenly things. But the same of his learning, and sainctitie, was a cause that manie famous men flocked vnto him, and putt themselues into the ranke of his schollers, and by the instructions of soe good, a master, made a wonderfull progresse both in learning, and vertue. Amongst these was Gildas surnamed the Wise, and Ellenius, that afterwards suc­ceeded him in the gouernment of the monasterie; and manie others.

II IN HIS time a certaine Captaine or Duke of the Britās hauing slaine A Duke flieth to him for Succor. three of noble king Arthurs souldiers, was compelled, being cruelly persecuted by the king, to flie, for refuge to S. CADOCK, who comise­rating his case, verie courteously entertained him, till (the king being somwhat pacified at the holie mans entreaties) it was determined by the iudges of the Countrey that to redeeme the men slaine, he should giue for each one, three of his best kine, according to the auncient law of the Britaines. But King Arthur refusing to take such kine a were of one colour, with much wrangling demaunded such as had their fore parts red, and hinder partes diuersly spotted with white & black: wherevppo the nine beasts were by the paayers of S. CADOCK chainged into the forenamed colours; and presently againe in the kings owne sight turned into soe manie būdells or faggotts of fearne Whereat much astonished he humbly demaunded pardon for his vn­iust demaund. Manie other wonderfull miracles are reported to haue been done by the prayers of this holy man, which bicause they seeme to be not verie authentically reported are wittingly ommitted. Only this we haue that being afterwards made Bishop, he desired of allmigh­tie God to passe out of this life throngh martirdō, which was graun­ted him. For as he celebrated the misterie of the dreadfull sacrifice of He is mar­tired. daying ma [...]le at the Aul­tar. the masse, a tirannous ring leader of an armie of other wicked spirits wasting, and spoyling the towne were he liued, a knight of this blouddie compaine ruled by a madding furie ranne into the Church and with his lanuce pearced the fides of the holie man at the aultars who with his hands lifted vp to heauen recommended his soule vnto allmightie God, and earnestly crauing pardon for his murderers, departed out of this world to receaue a place amongst the holy [Page 104] Martirs in heauen, the twentie fourth day of January, about the year of our Lord fiue hundred seauentie; In the raigne of Malgocune ouer the tottering state of Britanie. The memorie of this sainct is conser­ued to these our dayes in manie Churches in Wales; and one in Glo­cester-shire, dedicated to his name, and honour. By an other name he twas called Sophias, which gaue occasion of errour to the Authour of he English Martirologe, when he makes Cadock and Sophias to be di­uers Saincts. His life we haue gathered out of IOANNES ANGLICVS recited by IOHN CAPGRAVE, Nicolas Harpsfield, saec. 6. cap. 27. and others

The life of S. BATHILDE Queene and Nunne of the holy order of S. BENEDICT.
IAN. 26. Written by an au­thor of the same time

The life of S. SEXVLPH Bishop and Confessor of S. BENEDICTS order.
IAN. 28.

THIS holy man was the first Abbot and in some kind, founder of the Benedictine Abbey of Medishamsted, dedieated to S. PETER, which afterwards by reason of the greatnes, was called Pe­terborough. In which office hauing for some yeares dischardged the By his per swasion king wul­fere built this Ab­bey. part of a good and religious Prelat, by the authoritie of Theodore Archbishop of Canturbury, he was consecrated Bishop of Lichfield, in place of Winfrid deposed from that Sea for his disobedience. He go­uerned his people with verie great sainctetie of life, and examples [Page 112] of good workes for the space of three yeares, when being loaden with vertuous deeds he left this world, to take his place among his fellow Benedictin Monks in heauen about the yeare of our Lord 700. MATHEW WESTMINSTER ann. 614. HARPSFIELD saec. 7. c. 23. ARNOLD WION lib. 2. c. 46. TRITHEMIVS in his worke of the famous men of S. BENEDICTS order lib. 4. cap. 158. CAMDEN in desoritt. com. Northampt. and others make worthie mention of S. SEXVLPH.

The life of S. GYLDAS Abbot and Confessor.
IAN. 29. Out of an anncient authour recited by Iohn Capgraue.

GYLDAS borne in that part of Brittanie now called Scotland, and one of the twentie fower sonnes which a King of that countrey had by one wife, was from his youth of a verie ver­tuous disposition, and much inclined to the knowledge of all man­ner of learning: for the better obtaining of his desire therein, he passed ouer into France, where he employed seauen yeares in the con­tinuall studie of all goods sciences; and returned into Britanie loaden with great store of bookes and learning. But to the end he might with more freedom attend vnto the contemplation of heauenly He goeth into Frace to studie. things, he with drew him self from the tumults of the world, into a solitarie place of aboade, where he led the life of an hermite, conti­nually chastising his bodie with fasting, prayer, watchings, and hayre-cloath. Yet his vertue could not lie soe hidd, but that manie were drawne to him with the noyse of his great fame, to be instru­cted both in religion, and learning; and at their departure they ser­ued as trumpetts to inuite others vnto him, such great content they receaued in his vertuous life, and rare learning. Whatsoeuer guifts he receaued from the charitie of the richer sort, he allwaies distri­buted vnto the poore, contenting him self with the riches of his His great austerity of life. owne pouertie. He neuer tasted anie flesh, his ordinarie foode was herbes, and barly bread mingled with ashes, in steede of spice, his drinke pure water out of the fountaine. His continuall abstinence had brought his face to such leannes, that he all waies appeared like [Page 113] a man that had a feauer. At midnight his custome was to enter into the riuer vpp to the neck, and in that sort he powered out his pray­ers to almighty God, while his teares stroue with the streames which should runne fastest; afterwards he repaired to his oratorie, and spent the rest of the night in prayer. His cloathing was one single garment, in which only he tooke his rest, lieing vppon the downe of a hard rock. Hauing taught manie both in word and deed to follow the rules of good life, he departed into Jreland, where he conuerted a great multitude of that rude people to the faith of CHRIST. Shortly after returning into Britanie, he found his brother Howell slaine by King Arthur, who humbly crauing pardon of his fault, receaued from the Sainct a salutation of peace, friendship, and forgiuenes. He was a perpetuall enemie vnto the Pelagian Hereticks, and to be the better informed against them, and their doctrine, he made a iourney Against heresies he consul­teth the Roman Church. to the fountaine of true religion, Rome, and returned not only bet­ter instructed against them him self, but able to fortifie, and streng­then others with such sound principles of Catholicke religion, that they might easily defend their cause against all the vaine batteries and proud bull warks of heresie.

II. AT LENGTH he built a little Church vppon a rock in an Iland neere vnto the riuer Seauerne, where spending his time night He buil­deth an ermitage. and day in continuall prayer, he kept his mind wholly vacant and free from the world, and worldly creatures, seriously attending the contemplation of the diuine goodnes of his Creatour. But being in such want of fresh water, that he had noe other store but what was retained after a shower in little holes of the rock, he made his prayer to allmightie God, who sent him a cleere spring of water g [...]shing out of the same place. But by the frequent iniuries and in­cursions He depar­teth to Glasten. bury. of Pirats, he was compelled to depart from hence to Gla­stenbury, & being honourably receaued of the Abbott, he instructed the Monkes, and people thereabouts in the science both of humane & diuine things, and building a little Church not farre from thence, he led there an eremiticall life, in great austeritie and penance. Vnto whom, as vnto an oracle, manie came from all parts of Bri­tanie, to partake of his wisedome, and learning. He, whose holy desires tended only towards heauen, striued with all the force of eloquence he could, to diuert their minds from the transitorie [Page 114] things of this world, and settle them on the only consideration of heauen. Hauing in this manner spent some yeares in this habitation, the holy man fell into a grieuous sicknes, which made him quickly vnderstand that the hower of his death was nigh; therefore earnestly desiring of the Abbot to haue his bodie buried at Glastenbury, and recommending his soule vnto the hands of allmightie God, he left this miserable world, to receaue his reward in a better, the twentie ninth day of January, in the yeare of our Lord 512. His bodie, ac­cording to his desire, was buried at Glastenbury in the middest of the ould Church. Of this holy Sainct make mention MATHEW WESTMINST. N. HARPSFIELD saec. 6. cap. 23. IOHN CAPGRAVE, and others, whom we haue followed.

The life of S. BIRSTAN Bishop and Confessor.
IAN. 30. Out of William Malmes­bury, and Westmin­ster.

SAINCT BIRSTAN being a man of most pure and sincere life was chosen Bishop of Winchester, where he ruled the space of fower yeares. He was wont euerie day to sing or say Masse for the soules departed, and by night, without anie feare he would walke about the Church-yard reciting psalmes, and other prayers to the same end. And as once in his wonted deuotions he went this round, Masse and prayers for the dead. and added to the end of his prayers, Requiescant in pace: he heard from the ground the voyces, as it were, of an infinite armie that answea­red, Amen. Whereby he found his labours and prayers to be verie gratefull and profitable vnto the soules departed. The same holy man being an ardent follower of our Lords example, would euerie day without anie spectatours execute acts of profound humilitie, in washing with his owne hands the feete of diuers poore people, coue­ring them a table, giuing them sufficiencie of meate, and at length, His works of humilitie. as their deuout seruant, taking away what was left. This seruice being finished, and his poore guests dismissed, he would remaine in the same roome the space of two or three howers at his prayers. [Page 115] Vntill once entring according to custom to exercise these pions of­fices, not hauing bene before troubled with signe of anie sicknes, suddenly vnknowne to all, his soule departed out of his mortall lod­ging, The mā ­ner of his death. leauing it void of all vitall spiritt. His familie, and seruants that had long bene acquainted with his customs, thinking that then he was alsoe busied at his prayers, let him lie there a whole day. And the next morning breaking into his chamber, they found a dead bodie starke and stiffe, without anie signe of life. Therefore with great cryes, and lamentations they buried him in the Church of Winchester. But the Citizens of the towne, because they sawe him intercepted by a kind of suddaine death, buried the worthie memo­rie of the holy man in the deepe caues of silence: being ignorant that it is written; The man that liueth well, cannot die ill. And by what Sap. 4. death soeuer the iust man shall be preuented, and ouertaken, he shall be in a place of refreshing, and comfort. But a long time after this their rashnes was corrected by the allmightie power of him that cannot erre, for to Ethelwold Bishop of the same place, (as one night he watched, and He appea­reth to S. Ethel­wold. prayed, according to his custom, before the reliques of the Saincts in the Church of Winchester) there appeared three persons, which stood by him, not in an extasie, but fully awake. The middest of the three spake these words: I am BIRSTAN in times past Bishop of this cittie: This on my right hand is BIRINE the first preacher, and that on my left is SWITHINE the speciall Patron of this Church, and Cittie. And thou must know, that as thou seest me here present with them, soe doe I enioy the same glorie with them in heauen. Why therefore am I depriued of the honour and reuerence of mortall men, who am highly exalted in the companie of heauenly spirits? Saincts are to ho­noured. At these words they vanished, and euer after by the commaunde­ment of S. ETHELWOLD his memorie was celebrated with great ve­neration. By this we may learne that holy men (the prouidence of heauen soe disposing) may sometimes be taken away by suddaine death, and not without a speciall fauour, in getting by a minute of paine, that which others cannot obtaine but by manie yeares tor­ments of sicknes. This holy man was consecrated B. an. 932. & died in the yeare of our Lord 934. Thus much of him we haue gathered out of WILLIAM MALMESBVRY lib. 2. de Pontific. Angl. and MATHEW WESTMINSTER ann. 932. NICHOLAS HARPSFIELD saec. 10. cap. 8. PO­LIDORE [Page 116] VIRGILL lib. 6. ARNOLD WION lib. 2. lig. vitae, and others mak [...] worthie mention of him.

The life of S. WILGIS Confessor and Monk of the holy order ofS. BENEDICT.
IAN. 31. Out of S. Alcui­nus in the life of S. willibrord

THERE was in that part of the Brittsh Iland called Northum­berland a househoulder named Wilgis, by byrth a Saxon or Eng­lishman, who hauing bene naturall father vnto WILLIBRORD after­wards a Sainct, and Archbishop of Vtreight, as if he had perfourmed the whole dutie of his mariage, resolued both he and his wife to leaue the world, and vndertake a religious course of life; which holy purpose how vertuously he accōplished, was by miracles afterwards sufficiently testified, and made knowne to the world. For hauing left his secular garments, he putt on the black monasticall habitt of the holy order of S. BENEDICT, and made profession of a Monk not He taketh the habit of S. Bene­dict. vppon a forced seruice, but out of a true will and desire to religion. And because in leauing his house, and temporall goods, & enrouling him self into a spirituall warrefare in the campe of IESVS CHRIST, he had vndertaken a perfect life, he would not therefore be back­ward in what he professed, but in all things shewed him self to be a most perfect seruant vnto the deare master he serued. But when he had for a while giuen a patterne of his vertuous life in the schoole of the monasterie, he became soe braue a souldier, that the rudnes of the fearefull desert could not afright him, for shutting vp him self with­in the limitts of a streight, and narrow cottage, that stoode between He leadeth an eremi­ticall life. the Ocean, and the riuer Humber, dedicated to S. ANDREW the Apo­stle, he laboured in the exercise of a solitarie conuersation and imi­tating his grand master S. BENEDICT, he led a heauenly and an­gelicall life on earth, in purenes exceeding the ruddie blush of the rose, or the whitenes of the fayre lillie; but delightfully shining with a more sweete varietie of vertues, then doth a doue in the bea­mes of the sunne with diuersitie of colours. Within a short space his desire to lie hid, was betrayed by the wonder of his frequent mi­racles, [Page 117] and his name was blowne soe farre abroade with the trumpet IAN. 31. of fame, till it arriued at the Kings Court, and sounded such an ala­rum all ouer the countrey of Scotland, that great store of people floc­ked vnto him, whom he neuer sent away emptie, but allwaies loaden with the sweet instructions and admonitions of his heauenlie lear­ning, The fame of his ver­tue drawes manie schollers. being compelled herevppon to labour sometimes in a con­templatiue, and other times in a practicall manner of life. He became at last of soe great esteeme, and honour with the King and Nobles of the Realme, that they gaue him the possession of some lands neere adioining, and bestowed manie other rich guifts vppon him, by help whereof he built an honourable Church on the Sea side in honour of the B. Virgin MARIE, and gathered togeather a Conuent of Beue­dictine Monks, small in number, but great in the exercise of true ver­tue and religion. These he gouerned as Abbott with all sainctitie of He buil­deth a mo­nasterie. life & doctrine, vntill the diuine clemencie willing to set a period to the conflicts of his holy labours, absolued this his worthy champion from the most painfull warrefare of this present life, to raigne in his heauenly Court, which soe long he had thirsted for, and desired. He was very honourably buried in the same Church which he had built, and at his tombe haue bene wrought manie, and wonderfull mira­cles, which giue euident testimonie of how great price, and dignitie his most blessed soule is held to be in the sight of allmightie God. He died the 29. of January, but his feast is celebrated on this day in the Benedictin Abbey of S. WILLIBRORD in Germanie, where (saith S. Wine wō ­derfully encreased by his me­ritts. ALCVINE) on the annuall feast of S. WILGIS, there being but one flagon of wine in the house, it was by the meritts of this B. Sainct so miraculously encreased, that the whole Conuent of Monkes, which were a great number, hauing euerie one dronke two cupps thereof, it was nothing at all diminished; wherevppon the Abbott & Monks giuing thankes vnto allmightie God, with ioyfull sobrietie, and sober iollitie euerie man dranke as much he desired. Thus much out of S. ALCVINE in the life of S. WILLIBRORD, MOLANVS, IOHN CAPGRAVE, THEOFRID Abbot of S. Willibrords Monasterie in Germa­nie make worthie mention of him.

The life of S. BRIGITT Virgin of Kildare in Ireland.
FEB. 1. Written by Cogi­tosus an Authour of the same time

GOD is wonderfull in his workes, and his power is infinite, in that he draweth good out of our naughtines, and condem­neth not the soules of the children, for the sinnes of their pa­rents, but contrary wise he gathers roses oftentimes out of the midst of thornes, and produceth a cleere day out of the darknes of an vgly night. We haue a peculiar experience here of in the life of this holie virgin S. BRIGITT; which followeth.

II. THERE was in Ireland a man called Duptac, who hauing pur­chased as a slaue a yong and not vnhandsom woeman named Brocca, became soe amorous, and fond of her, that at length her Her pa­rents and byrth. great bellie witnessed their more then honest familiaritie togea­ther. His owne wife perceauing this naughtie husbandrie, was highly enraged against her husband, forcing him by all meanes to make a resale of this slaue; and refusing to be perswaded to pittie eyther by earnest prayers, remonstrances, or indeed by the holie reuelations which two good Bishops had of the treasure which the slaue caried in her wombe. In a word, the good wi [...]e could take noe rest nor repose vntill she saw her husbands mi­nion (as she termed her) out of her house; the poore slaue at her time was deliuered of a daughter, which was called BRIGITT, whom as soone as she had ouer growne the vse of her nurse, her father tooke home againe into his owne house, where being very carefully brought vp, she allwaies caried her self honest, The ver­tues of her youth humble, peaceable, obedient, and aboue all soe charitable, that vnintreated she tooke vppon her the office of Almner in her fathers house, giuing away to the poore whatsoeuer she could lay hould on: & among other things she had giuen away her fathers sword. For this cause meaning to ridd her away, he went to the King, & offered him a bargaine of her, at an easie rate. The King hauing asked her, why she gaue her fathers sword to the poore; I gaue it (replied she) [Page 119] to CHRIST him self; and truely if God would demaund it, and that I were able, I would freely giue my souueraigne lord the King, and my father him self, with both your goods and possessions, vnto his diuine goodnes, Hereat the king amazed said: Thy daughter is of too much worth ether for thee to sell, or for me to buy; and gi­uing her a sword to make restitution vnto her father, he sent her away.

III. These vertues of her soule were accompanied with an excee­ding Her beau­tie of Bo­die. fayre beautie of body, and especially her face and eies were soe excellent in that guift, that they rauished the hearts of all those that beheld her; and made manie desire and seek her in marriage. Her father being much sued vnto on all sides, and not knowing how to ridd him self of those impatient wooers, nor answeare their im­portunitie, motioned the matter to his daughter, giuing her free leaue to make choise of a husband according to her owne liking, amongst that bād of sutors. But BRIGITT, who desired IESVS CHRIST for her only deare spouse, and to consecrate her virginitie vnto him, She ob­tayned the losse of an eye to auoyd suters. was quite of an other intention, and knowing that the beautie of her face was the chief cause of these rude assaults, she prayed hear­tely vnto her sacred spouse, to giue such a deformitie vnto it, as might hereafter breed rather a detestation of all the thē loue of anie towards her. Our Lord heard her prayer, and graunted her request, by the losse of one of her fayre eyes, which burst and dropt out of her head like a dissolued pearle: and by this meanes she became soe defformed, that noe man sought after her anie more; when she gott her fathers consent to hasten her entrance into a monasterie of religious woemen, which was the only heigth and ayme of her de­fires. At the time she receaued the holy vayse of chastitie from the hands of Machil Bishop and disciple vnto S. PATRICK, he be­held She en­treth into religion, and is restored to her for­mer beau­tie. a pillar of fier hang ouer her head, and as she inclined her bo­die and layd her hand on the foot-step of the aultar, which albeit it was of drie seasoned wood, yet at her touch, and in testimonie of her chastity, it waxed greene, and flourished afresh; and at the ve­rie same instant her eye was restored againe, and her face became more beautifull then euer. For it seemed her deare spouse would not endure, that she who had desired to loose her beautie to pre­serue her virginitie, should remayne in such deformitie.

[Page 120] IV. WE should neuer come to an end, if we went about to sett downe in this paper, all the rare and excellent vertues of this blessed virgin, with this wonderfull great miracles, which our Sauiour wrought at her intercession: It shall suffise to rehearse some only. She freeth a yong mayd from t [...]e com­panie of the deuill. Being by a yong mayde inuited to dinner, she saw the deuill sitting by her side that had inuited her, and hauing asked him what he did there, and why he came thither: He answeared, that the weaknes, and idlenes of that mayd, inuited him to stay with her, with whom he found him self verie wellcome. The mayd hauing heard these words, spoken with a long and intelligible voice, and seeing not the authour, was much amazed, vntill (being willed by S. BRIGITT) she made the signe of the crosse on her eyes, & then she saw that dread­full vglie beast, belching flames of fier out of his horrid throate: which sight, togeather with the perswasion of the Sainct, made her to acknowledge her fault, and amend her life, being freed euer after of the companie of that infernall monster.

V. A WOEMAN bringing vnto this holie virgin a basket of aples A woeman punished for disobe­yng her. for a present, found at the self same time some poore leapers at the doore expecting an almes. The Sainct bad her giue those apples vnto the wretches at the doore: but the woeman (whether of niggard­lines, or out of some horrour she conceaued) refused soe (as she thought) basely to bestow them, saying that she brought them for her, and her religious sisters, and not for such loathsom creatures. This answere much displeased the holy virgin, who sharpely repre­hending her for hindering a work of charitie, with a prophetick spi­ritt tould her, that in punishment of this offence all the trees in her orchard should wither away, & neuer beare fruict againe: the woe­man departed, and being come home found her trees, which she had left well stored with aples, to haue store of nothing but want; and from that time they remayned drie, barren, and fruitlesse euer after.

VI. A NAVGHTIE woeman, being deliuered of a sonne vnlawfully begotten, the better to hide her offence, layd it to the chardge of the holie Bishop Broon disciple to S. PATRICK. But when he auowed the contrarie, that he was most free from anie such wicked act, S. BRIGITT sent for the woeman, and asked her whoe was the father of Puni [...]mēt of [...]. her child, she answered verie impudently, that noe man but the Bi­shop [Page 121] had to doe with it. Wherevppon the Sainct making the signe of the Crosse vppon the mouth of that vile woeman, presently her shameles tongue swelled in her head, that she could not speake. She allso made the same signe of life on the tongue of the little infant, A new­borne child speaketh. and demaunded of him who was his father? A strainge miracle! he that neuer spake word before, answeared very distinctly, that it was not the Bishop, but a deformed, and vile fellow the basest amongst all the common people; and thus by the discouerie of the truth, the holy Bishops reputation remayned vntouched, that miserable woeman did penance for her slander, and the people gaue thankes vnto the allmightie searcher of our hearts, and secrets.

VII. THE daughter of a great Prince hauing vowed perpetuall chastitie, and chosen IESVS CHRIST for her only spouse, was neuer­thelesse forcibly sollicited by her father to marrie. On the day ap­pointed The vertue of the si­gne of the Crosse. for her mariage, when the banquet, and all other rich pre­parations were in a readines, she stole away secretly from her fathers house, and fled for refuge into S. BRIGITTS monasterie. Her father accompanied with manie horsemen, pursued her, meaning to take her out by force: the Sainct seeing them come, made the signe of the Crosse on the ground, and at the verie instant the men, horses, and all stood flock still, like soe manie statues. Then the Prince acknow­ledging the strength of the mightie hand of God to hould him, did penance for his rashnes, and at the prayer of the Sainct both he and and his followers were sett at libertie, and his daughter perseuered in the perfourmance of her sacred vow.

VIII. THIS blessed Sainct hauing cured manie diseases, the fame of her sainctitie was blowne ouer the countrey, which made two leapers come vnto her, with teares entreating to receaue their S. Brigitt cureth lea­pers. health, for whom, hauing made her prayer vnto allmightie God, she blessed a little water, and bad them wash one and other therewith; one of them being cured, she commaunded him to wash his com­panion; but he was soe rauisht with ioy to see him self recouered, and soe fearefull to loose his health againe, that he had not the courage eyther to wash, or touch his fellow, fearing thereby to repurchase his disease; but he felt the punishment of God, being suddenly co­uered all his bodie: ouer with the same leaprosie, when he saw his companion perfectly healed by the prayers of the holie Virgin.

[Page 122] IX. IN THE monasterie of S. BRIGITT, among her other Nun [...] there was one beautifull yong dame, grieuously haunted with A N [...]nne grieuously troubled with lasci­uious thoughts. lasciuious thoughts which had entred into her heart at the gates of her eyes, by impurely gazing on a dishonest person, vnto whom she had promised a meeting at time conuenient. The flame of her filthie affections encreased daily, and the deuill (according to his custom) forgott not to blow those impure coales, neuer suffering the poore soule to take anie rest (soe necessarie a thing it is to keepe a close gard ouer the gates of our senses, for feare we giue death an entrance into our soule) soe that being neere vnto the vtter ruine, and ship­wrack of her chastitie, whilst S. BRIGIT (vnto whō our Sauiour had reuealed all that passed) made her prayer for her, she was inspired by Is cured by the prayers of S. Bri­gitt. allmightie God, to goe barefoot vppon hott burning coales; which she performed, and by the heate of one [...]ier, she quenched the flames of the other; and by the sensuall paine of her bodie, ouercame the eternall heate which did torment her soule. On the morrow S. BRIGITT spake these confortable wordes vnto her: Because (sayd she) thou hast fought couragiously this night, and extinguished the flames of wantonnes which made warre against thee, hereafter thou shalt be exempted both from them, and the fier of hell: then making her prayers vnto allmightie God for her, she was cured of the bur­ning of her feet, and quite freed from the wonted temptations, which did molest her.

X. A MAYD named Daria which was blind, entreated S. BRIGIT to make the signe of the crosse on her eyes, by meanes thereof she She giueth sight to a blind mayd not only recouered her sight, but allsoe by an inward light in the soule she vnderstood, that all whatsoeuer she could see in this world was subiect to corruption, and vanitie, and that that which we see oftentimes with our corporall eyes is but a barre, and hindrance to the soule; therefore she returned vnto S. BRIGITT, and desired to be restored againe to her former blindnes. The Sainct by her prayers shutt vp the windowes of her eyes in darknes, which before she had opened to behold the light. A Ladie of that countrey who had a daughter that was dumb from her verie byrth, brought her at the age of twelue yeares vnto S. BRIGITT, who taking the gyrle by the hand, sayd: Wilt thou for the loue of IESVS CHRIST keepe perpe­tuall chastitie? Her mother answeared, that her daughter forsooth, She [...]ureth a dumb gytle. [Page 123] was dumb, and could not speak. Neuerthelesse (replied S. BRIGITT) I will not let her goe, till she answeare me. Then the gyrle spoke, & sayd, she would obey her commaunds in all things: In performance whereof she remayned a virgin euer after, and spake as well, and as distinctly as ani [...] of her sex.

XI. NINE men conspired amongst them selues the death of one man, whom they were agreed to kill at a sett day: S. BRIGITT being She deli­uereth a man from being slaine by his ene­mi [...]. aduertised hereof, laboured as much as was possible by prayers and entreaties to auert them from this wickednes, but finding their cruell minds to be soe obstinately bent to that blouddie purpose, as they grew rather worse by entreaties, she had recourse vnto allmigh­tie God her only refuge in distresse, humbly desiring him to hinder the execution of their malitious intent. On the day appointed when they went about to act this blouddie scene, they saw the verie for me and figure of the man they meant to murder, and taking a figure for the true body (as our Protestāts doe) they ranne after with great furie to kill one whoe was dead allreadie, and hauing giuen him as manie mortall wounds, as were sufficient to haue murdered the strongest liuing man, they returned victorious to bring newes of their tri­umphe vnto S. BRIGITT: who smiling at their mistake, tould them the man they thought they had slaine, was yet aliue, and that their courage had exercised his crueltie only vppon the imaginarie figure of their enemie, and noe man. Herevppon being much astonished, they acknowledged their fault, and repenting them of their wicked purposes, corrected their liues euer after.

XII. OVR Lord wrought diuers other miracles by the holy me­ritts Manie mi­racles done by S. Bri­gitt. of this blessed virgin; the blind their sight, the dumbe their speech, leapers, and other diseased persons recouered their health. By her prayers she turned water into beere; and stones into salt; she chainged the course of a great riuer, and which is more, by her good perswasions, manie desperate wicked fellowes withdrew them selues out of the gulphes of their vicious manner of life, and entred into the sure port of religion, where they finished their dayes in the seruice of IESVS CHRIST. When this blessed virgin [...]ad happily en­ded the course of her life, and endured manīe great labours for the loue of IESVS CHCIST her deare spouse, (being aduertised of her death, and hauing made it knowne vnto one of her sisters, specifiing Her death. [Page 124] the day & hower thereof) she gaue vp her pure soule into the hands of her deare Redeemer, the first day of February in the yeare of our Lord according to Sigebert 518. but Marianus Scotus sayth 521. in the raigne of the Emperour Iustin the elder. Her life was written by an a [...] ­thour of her time named COGITOSVS, and by IOANNES ANGLICVS, IOHN CAPGRAVE whom we haue followed. The Roman Martirologe maketh men­tion of S. BRIGITT, as allsoe that of S. BEDE, VSVARD, and ADON: and BARONIVS in his seauenth tome of Annalls. But GYRALDVS CAMBRENSIS a verie graue authour in his Topographie of Ireland, amongst manie other miracles of this Blessed sainct, maketh mention of S. BRIGITTS fier Miracle▪ of S. Brigitts. fi [...]r. which is reported to be vnextinguished, not that it cannot be extin­guished, but because the Nunnes did soe carefully, and continually nourish and feed it wich new matter: that from her time for manie hundred yeares after, it neuerwent out, and in the consuming of soe much wood, which had bin burnt there, in all this time, the ashes ne­uer encreased. This fier was compassed about with a little hedge of twigges, within which noe man dared to enter; & yf at anie time some did presume soe to doe, their presumption was punished by a reuenge from heauen. Woemen only did blow it, and that, not with their mouthes but eyther with bellowes, or a fanne. An Ar­cher that rashly attempted to leape ouer the headge and blow S. BRIGITTS fier with his mouth, suddenly lost his witts and fell into madnes, and running vpp and downe the towne, putt his breath in the faces of all he mett, saying: doest thou see? thus I blew BRIGITS fier: and wheresoeuer he found anie fier, he would blow it, still re­peating the same words: till at length being taken by his companions, and bound hand and foote, he desired to be brought to the next water, where he dranke soe much to quench his extreme drought, that he burst his bellie, and died. Manie others (sayth GIRALDVS) were punished for the like attempt.

XIV. But who doeth not behould & admire, in the life of this glo­rious A breef cō ­sideration of her vet­tues, and miracles. Sainct, the wonderfull greatnes of the goodnes of allmightie God, who out of the sinne of her Parents, drew soe pretious a iewell, as S. BRIGITT, making a poore slaue to be the mother vnto her, that deliuer [...] soe manie captiue soules out of the seruitude, and sla­uerie of sinne? How could the fraile vessell of a poore bondslaue gyr­lo, be capable of the noble condition of soe great loue vnto vertue, [Page 135] and of such a boyling desire of pure Virginitie, that for the preseru­ing thereof she chose rather to loose the tendrest part of her bodie, her eies, and to deface her beantie, the verie Idoll of woemen, then to consent vnto a lawfull mariage? How manifestly it appreares here­by, that our B. Sauiour is sweet, and gratious to his true ser­uants, in restoring vnto BRIGITT her beautie of which at her owne request, and for her greater good, he had before depriued her? Soe that it is noe wonder, yf she that knew soe well how to keepe her owne virginitie vntouched, and sacrifice it vnto her deare lord, was allsoe of power by her prayers to obtaine the like fauour for other yong woemen, and deliuer the innocence of the good Bishop from the calumnie which that wicked woeman layd vppon him; and that God hath wrought by this blessed virgin the miracles before re­hearsed. Let him be euer Praysed, and glorified as well for that which he is in him self, as allsoe for what he worketh by his saincts,

Amen.

The life of S. LAVRENCE Archbishop of Canturbury, of the holy order of S. BENEDICT.
FEB. 2. Out of Bede de gest. Ang.

SAINCT LAVRENCE was one of those Benedictin Monks whom Pope GREGORIE the great sent with S. AVGVSTIN to preach the Ghospell of IESVS CHRIST to our English nation, in which pious worke he laboured wonderfully to gaine soules out of the blindnes [Page 127] of Idolatrie to the light of the true Catholicke faith. He was a man of excellent learning, and vertuous life: And when Ethelbert King of Kent, and most part of his kingdom were baptised; S. AVGVSTIN sent the holy monkes LAVRENCE and PETER to Rome to bring vnto the holy Pope the ioyfull tidings of their happie suc­cesse. S. Austin chooseth Laurence for his suc­cessou [...] in Canturbu­ry. After his returne into England, when S. AVGVSTIN Arch­bishop of Canturburic perceaued the time of his death to draw neere, lest that Church as yet but raw, & rude in religion, being one hower destitute of a pastour should begin to wauer, he ordayned Laurence for his successour; plainly following herein the example of the first Pastour of the vniuersall Church the Prince of the Apostles Sainct PETER, who in like manner instituted Clement to succeed him in the primacie of the sea of Rome. S. LAVRENCE being installed in the dignitie of the Archbishoprick, beganne with great courage, and industrie to augment and promote the foundations of Christian religion soe nobly layd, and by his frequent preaching, exhorta­tions, and continuall examples of pious workes he endeauoured to aduance them to due height of perfection. Neyther did he only His care of all the Churches. take the chardge and care of the new Church of the English, but was allsoe verie sollicitous, and carefull of the auncient inhabitants of Britaine, not forgetting allsoe to be a pastorall gardian of the Scotts, and Irish. For vnderstanding the manner of life and profes­sion of faith of the Britans and Scotts to be in manie things scarse Ec­clesiasticall, and chiefly that they did not celebrate their Easter in due time, but iudged it to be obserued between the fourteenth of the Moone and the twentith, he, togeather with his fel­low-Bishops writt vnto them an epistle of exhortation, desiring, and coniuring them to keepe the same vnitie of peace, and Ca­tholicke obseruance, which was obserued in the Church of CHRIST ouer all the world. Of which his Epistle this was the beginning: His Epistle to the Sco­tish or Irish Bi­shops. LAVRENCE, MELLITVS, and IVSTVS seruants of the sernants of God, vnto our most deare brothren the Bishops, and Abbotts throughout all Scotland. When the Sea Apostolicke (according to the accustomed man­ner thereof, which is to send to all parts of the world) directed vs into these Westerne quarters to preach the word of God vnto Pagans, and heathens, and we happened to enter this Iland called Britaine, indging (before we knew) that all who were Christians, walked according to the custom of the [Page 128] vntuersall Church, we honoured with great reuerence of sainctitie, as well the Britans, as the Scotts. But now hauing had some knowledge of the Britans errours, we iudged better of the Scotts. Till we vnderstood by Dagamus Bi­shop that came into this foresayd Iland, and by Columban Abbot in Fraunce, that the Scotts in their conuersation doe nothing differre from the Brittans. For Dagamus Bishop being here, refused not only to eate with vs, but would not tast anie meate vnder the same Roofe with vs &c. In like manner S. LAVRENCE togeather with his other fellow-Bishops sent letters worthie his calling, vnto the Priests of the Britans whereby he endeauoured to reduce them to the vnitie of the Catholick Church. But all his labour profitted little, so obstinate and peruerse they were in their fore-taken opinions.

II. IN the meane time a most grieuous tempest, and perturbation arose in the Church. For B. Ethelbert King of Kent being dead, Eabald his successour vtterly destroying his Fathers holie institutions of A pertur­ba [...]on in the Eng­lish Chur. Christianitie, ranne hedlong into all manner of vice and wickednes, & marrying his stepmother, he liued in that foule fornication, which the Apostle soe highly detested in the Corinthian. Together with him the Noblemen, and manie of the people (choosing rather to offend God, then not to follow the Kings fashiō) fell (as the manner is) from their Catholick institution, into all manner of loosenes and lewdnes of life, and religion. To augment these miseries, about the same time Sigebert King of the East-Angles being dead, his sonnes fell from the Catholick religion (which in their Fathers time they seemed to ap­prooue) into the flatt profession of their ancient Idolatrie. Therefore in the midst of these soe great difficulties, the holy Monks & Bishops Mellitus of London, and Justus of Rochester mett at Canturbury, to deli­berate with S. LAVRENCE what was best to be done. At length they were brought to such straights, that they determined rather to returne into their owne countrey, there to serue God in peace and quietnes, then to loose their labours among these barbarous people soe rebellious to the faith of CHRIST. Mellitus, and Justus depar­ted into France, there to expect what would be the euent of these mi­ The Bi­shops flie into Frace. series, whom S. LAVRENCE promised shortly to follow, vnlesse the wickednes of the time did change. In the meane space he ceased not to admonish and perswade the King and people with all the force of arguments he could inuent, that they ought not soe [Page 129] silthyly to forsake such excellent precepts of religion, and soevnad­uisedly fall from the great happines allreadie obtained. But the king finding the holy Bishop to withstand him, and his desires, be­gan dayly to haue a greater auersion from him, and grew at length to be soe malitiously bent against him, that LAVRENCE inteded wise to goe after his Brother-Bishops into France.

III. THE night before he meāt to depart, he cōmaūded his bed to be prepared in the verie Church of S. PETER & PAVL; where, hauing Laurence meaning to flie is scourgedby S. PETER powred out his heartie prayers, bathed in teares, for the present mi­serable state of the Church, he betooke him self to his rest, & fell a­sleepe; During which the Prince of the Apostles S. PETER appeared vnto him, and hauing seuerely scourged his nacked back & shoulders with sharpe stripes a good space of the night, he asked him by a strict apostolicall authoritie; wherefore he would forsake the flock which he had cōmitted to his chardge? & to what other pastour he would dismisse the sheepe of CHRIST, frō which he intended to flie, & leaue them in the midst of wolues? Hast thou forgott mine exaple (said he) who for the little ones of IESVS-CHRIST, which in testimonie of his loue he recōmēded vnto mee, haue suffered chaines, stripes imprison­ments, & afflictions, and at last death it self vppon a crosse? S. LAV­RENCE with these stripes of the Apostle, allthough wounded in bo­die yet much encouraged in mind, went the next morning to the king, & discouering his back, shewed him how cruelly he was scour­ged and tome. The king much amazed hereat, demaunded who durst be soe bould, as to exercise such crueltie on soe great and wor­thie King. Ed­bald re­nounceth Idolatrie. a man, and vnderstanding that the holie Bishop had endured those cruell blowes from the Apostle S. PETER, & all for his healths sake, he was exceedingly affrighted, & therevppon abandonning all Idolatrie, and reiecting his vnlawfull mariage, he embraced the fayth of CHRIST and was baptised by S. LAVRENCE: which done, he called Melli [...]us, and Iustus out of France, remayning euer after constant in the Catholicque fayth. BVT S. LAVRENCE hauing againe setled his bishoprick in good order, and reduced the people of the countrey to the fould of CHRIST, being desirous allsoe (as we S. Laurence Preacheth in Scotland haue said) to bring the Scots and Brittans to the vnitie of Gods Church, went into Scotland. In which iourney he is reported to haue walked (like an other S. PETER) ouer an arme of the sea on foote, [Page 130] whē the marriner that refused to carrie him ou [...]r, was in his sight pu­nished with fier frō heauē, & swallowed vp togeather with his boate in the mercilesse gulphes of the Sea. Preaching in a certaine village, & finding noe man that would receaue ether him or his doctrine, but rashly expelled him from amongst them, he was forced that night to take a hard lodging vnder a hedge, being exposed to the iniurie of the wind and weather; But allmightie god, who neuer forsaketh his seruants, sent forth a bright shining light, which incompassed the holie man with such splendour, that the next approching mor­ning might well blush at the luster of his brightsom night. And the same allmightie power shott a dreadfull thunderbolt into that vil­lage which had refused to harbour his messenger, whereby it was fiered, destroyed, and buried for euer in its owne ruines. After­wards, Tonanus a Bishop of Jreland vnderstanding of the fame of S. LAVRENCE and of his preaching, came to see him, and hauing heard him dispute of the Apostolique institutions of the Catholick Church, and of the true obseruance of Easter, he embraced the truth, and earnestly endeauoured to reduce his owne countrey vnto the same.

V. LAVRENCE returning againe into Kent, happened by the way to lodge in a house, where his Hosts sonne was newly dead, and He rayseth a dead boy to life. the father and mother wonderfully lamenting their losse, desired him yf he would haue them beleeue in the fayth of him he preached, to restore their sonne to life againe. The Holy Bishop hauing made his prayer vnto allmightie God, full of faith and confidence in him (that promised, whatsoeuer you shall aske in my name shall be graunted vnto you) cōmaunded the boy to rise; and he arose forth with, and re­lated how when S. LAVRENCE prayed for him, he was by the hand of bright-shining Angels taken out of the vgly clawes of the black horrid spirits, and restored to his bodie againe. Moued with this miracle the father, and mother of the boy, togeather with all their whole houshould, and Kinred, receaued the faith of CHRIST, and were at the same time washed in the sacred font of Baptisme. At length this holie Prelat, hauing for the space almost of eleuen yeares gouerned the Sea of Canturburie, continually labouring in His happie death. the promotion of gods cause, left this world to receaue the euerla­sting rewards of his labours in a better; the second day of February [Page 131] in the yeare of our Lord 619. He was buried neer vnto S. AVGVSTIN his predecessour in the Benedictin Abbey of Canturbury dedicated vn­to S. PETER and S. PAVL, which had bin founded in S. AVGVSTINS time, but was perfected, and consecrated by S. LAVRENCE. And in the Epitaph ouer his tombe mention is made of his scourging, in this verse.

A long time after his death togeather with his fellow-Bishops and Saincts, AVGVSTINE and MELLITVS, he appeared in glorie to a lame cripple, whose legges, by the contraction of the sinews, grew fast to his haunches, but as he prayed for help in the same Church the Blessed Sainct with his owne hands seemed to dissolue his ioynts, & sinews, soe that he suddenly found him self to be perfectly cured. This life me haue gathered cheefly out of VENERABLE BEDE de geft. Ang. lib. 2. and IOANNES ANGLICVS recited by IOHN CAPGRAVE. Mention is made of him in the Roman Martirologe this day. TRITHEMIVS of the fa­mous men of S. BENEDICTS order lib. 3. cap. 59. Harpsfield s [...]c. 7. cap. 7. MAL­MESBVRY de gest. reg. Angl. lib. 1. cap. 1. and de gest. P [...]ntif. Angl. lib. 1. and all our English historiographers doe whorthyly speaks his prayses.

The life of S. WEREBVRG Virgin and Abbesse of the Holy order of S. BENEDICT.
FEB. 3. Out of di­uers graue on­thors.

AS a pretious diamond, when it is artificially, and well sett in a gould ring, giueth a double lustre, and grace vnto the eye, soe the vertues of the mind which are engraffed in the nobilitie of birth, and beautie, of bodie, doe shine with a farre greater glorie, and dazle the beholders with more admiration. A strong proofe he­reof we haue in the life of the glorious virgin S. WEREBVRG, who by the Sainctitie, and vertues of her good life, ennobled the resplendent royaltie and no blencs of her birth. She was daughter vnto Wulfere Her royall parentage. King of the Mercians and S. ERMENILD his Queene. Being therefore borne of a noble and holie race, and in beautie excelling manie other of her equalls, she iudged it a thing verie vnseemly to degene­rate from the vertue and glorie of her Ancestours, or that the vilences [Page 132] of a corrupted soule should blemish and deforme the bea [...]teous grace of soe faire a bodie. And because she had her beginning from noble progenitors, she abhorred the terrene desires of the louers of this world, to vnite her self to the most worthie spouse of all chast soules CHRIST IESVS, vnto whom she betrothed the pure and holie soule of her vnstained bodie. Gould, gemmes, costly apparell, and whatsoeuer else the gorgeous pompe of this world doth bragge of, seemed vnto her rather odious then glo­rious.

II. AT LENGTH, the time being come when she was resolued to ce­lebrate her spirituall spousage, she went to the monasterie of Be­nedictin She taketh the habitt of S. Bene­dict. Nunnes at Ely, where CHRIST and his angels being witnesses, she receaued the sacred vaile of virginitie, and ranged her self into the companie of those holie virgins vnder the rule of S. BENEDICT, and the gouernment of Etheldred her aunt, thē abbesse of the same place. From which time, treading vnder foote the vaine pride of the world she euer shewed her self an humble handmayd of CHRIST, & by submitting her self to all her other sisters, she ouercame them all in the vertue of true humilitie, allwaies seruing their necessitie with the pious workes of a boyling charitie: not forgetting likewise to keepe a speciall guard ouer her owne actiōs, lest she should committ anie small ouersight, which might be displeasing vnto her heauenly spouse, for whose loue she had forsaken the pompe of the world, which mortalls soe much admire. The whole forces & powers of her soule were bent only to endeauour which way she might become excellent in silence, abstinence, watchings, pious reading, and holie Her pious. exercises. meditations. That in a short time, she went as farre beyond her other companions in these and all other vertues, as she excelled the in the nobilitie of bloud: yet allwaies thinking soe humbly of her self that she was euer most readie to obey them all, and to vnder­goe the basest offices of the howse. In a word, all her life was such, that allthough as others doe, she carried her bodie vppon earth, yet she alwaies had her mind fixed in heauen, and heauenly things.

III. AFTER she had a long time giuen such a patterne of vertue and religion in the monasterie of Ely, king Wulfere her father being She is ma­de Abbesse of three Nunneries. dead; Etheldred her vncle then raigning ouer the kingdom [Page 133] of Mercia, sent for her home into her owne countrey and gaue her the gouernment of three monasteries of Benedictine Nunnes (to wit Trentam and Hindbury in Staffordsshire, and Wedune in Nor­thamptonshire) that with her good and pious example she might there promote the obseruance of heauenly, and immortall life, where she had first receaued her mortall breath. In this autho­ritie, she caried her self with soe great sainctitie, and prudēce, that she worthily obtained a wonderfull prayse and name in the world, of pietie, wisedom, and discretion. For in such wise she exercised the authoritie of a mistresse, that she seemed allsoe to beare the condition of a seruant, instructing her subiects in the way of vertue, more by her owne example, then by imperious com­maunding.

IV. AS ON a time she made some stay at her monasterie of Wedune neere Southampton, newes was brought that an infinite companie of wild-geese yearly accustomed to make a verie great spoile in the corne, and other pastures belonging to the monasterie. Wherevpon she commaunded the messenger to returne, and bring them all be­fore him into the pound. He, allthough he imagined the holy Note a wonderfull miracle. virgin flowted him, went into the fields, and seeking to driue those wild foules off the corne, he found that not one of that allmost in­finite multitude once offered to lift vpp his wings to flie away; there­fore perceauing now a possibilitie in what he iudged before impos­sible, he began to driue them forward, when they went before him, (like soe manie sheepe) on a foote pace, hanging downe their heads as it were, out of the confusion of their owne guiltines, till he had them in the place appoynted, where he shutt them vpp as close prisoners all that night. Neuer were soe manie wild The Wild fowle obeyeth her com­maund. creatures at once, vnder lock and key before. The next mor­ning betimes, with their cackling notes they began to crie out, like poore prisoners for pardon for their offence, or at lest for sustenance to maintaine nature aliue. The holy virgin, who was euer of a mild disposition towards all crea­tures; commaunded them to be sett at libertie, with a straight charge threatned against them neuer to returne againe into those parts. She had noe sooner spoke, then obedience followed, for the whole troupe of those geese fled away soe farre that [Page 134] neuer after anie of the same kind once appeared, within the confi­nes of that monasterie.

V. A HEARDSMAN belonging vnto her monasterie called Al [...] ­thus, a man of verie good life, was oftentimes much iniured, and at length, in presence of the holy Virgin, sorely beaten, and wounded by the Baylyf of the same place, all which the good man quietly bore of with the buckler of patiēce; whilst S. WERBVRG on her knees with prayers mingled with threatnings, cried out on him to spare the One strain­gely puni­shed for notobeying S. Werburg poore innocent: but his furie and pride swelling in her humilitie, disdayned to listē to her pious entreaties but pursued his rude cruel­tie; when by the iust iudgment of god he receaued his punishe­ment: for presently his stubborn eneck, and frowning visage was after a horrid manner, writhen and turned backwards to looke be­hind him, since he refused a good looke to the seruant of god which kneeled for pittie before him. This made his stout heart to relent, and throwing him self prostrate at her feete, with repentant teares he demaunded pardon of his offence, soe that she from a defendant became a iudge, by whose holie mediation and suffrage vnto the eternall iudge, he had his face restored vnto the auncient seate againe. And the same Heardsman Alnothus led a solitarie and anachoreticall life in a wood neere adioyning, vntill he was martyred by the theeues that haunted the same.

VI. AT LENGTH the B. Virgin WEREBVRG hauing for manies yeares prudently done the office of a louing mother ouer her three monasteries, foreseeing the time of her death to be at hand, she com­maunded her Nunnes, that wheresoeuer she died, they should bu­rie her bodie at the monasterie of Handbury: And within a short Her happie death. time after (being then at Trentham) she went out of this world, to goe to the heauently vnion, and mariage of her deare, and long de­sired spouse in Paradise. She died the third day of February about the yeare of our Lord 676. and her bodie was honorably buried at Her bodie found vn­corrupted. the monastery of Handbury, where her tombe was famous for manie miracles. Nine yeares after, her bodie being taken vpp, it was found vncorrupted, with her cloathes on, her face lillie white, only her cheekes a little sprinkled with red; all in the same man­ner, as when she was aliue: and thus she remayned without cor­ruption vntill by the iust iudgement of god, the sinnes of our wret­ched [Page 135] countrey were punished by the Danish sword: when, left soe pure a relique should be profaned by the hands of those Barbarous and incredulous people, her body resolued into dust, and her bones were remoued to Westchester, into the Benedictin monasterie; where afterwards a goodly Church was built, by Hugh Earle of Chester, and dedicated to her name, which to this day is called S. WEREBVRGS Church, and is the Cathedrall of that cittie. Manie miracles were wrought in those dayes at her holie reliques, and the like without question would allsoe be done in these our times, were not the pre­sent fayth of our countrey such, and soe great, as it is noe fayth at all. Her life we haue gathered chiefly out of IOANNES ANGLICIVS, or IOHN CAPGRAVE, NICHOLAS HARPSFIELD hist. Eccle. saee. 7. cap. 23. and WIL­LIAM MALMESBVRY de gest. reg. Ang. lib. 2. cap. 13. and de gest. Pontif. lib. 4. FLORBNTIVS WIGO [...]NIENSIS an. 676. POLIDORE VIRGILL lib. 4. de regno Merciorum. CONTINVATOR B [...]DAE lib. 2. cap. 33. IOHN SPEED in his historie of England, and others doe make honorable mention of her

The life of S. GILBERT of Sempringham Confessor, Author of the Gilbertin monks.
FEB 4. Out of Nicholas Harpsfield and others

SAINCT GILBIRT was sonne to Ioceline a worthie Norman Souldier, his mother was an English woeman, who before his birth had a famous vision foreshewing his greatnes, when in her sleepe the moone seemed to fall into her lappe. He was borne at Sempringham in Lincolnshire. In his fathers house he was of soe poore esteeme, that the verie seruants would scarse daigne to eate their meate with him. For in feature of bodie he was something rude and vnhandsom. Being sett to schoole, and profitting but poorely, he went into France, where by his good endeauours, he attayned vnto the degree of ma­ster in the liberall sciences. Afterwards returning into England His care in bringing vp yong children. he bent his whole labours, piously, and freely to bring vpp children of both sexes, whom he not only instructed in the rudiments of learning, but allsoe gaue them exact, and as it were, monastical [Page 136] rules of good manners prescribing vnto them certaine times, and places, when to reade their lessons, when to talke, and when to be silent; allwaies endeauouring from his verie youth to winne soules vnto CHRIST, and to profitt whomsoeuer he could, by word, work, and good example. In the meane time, his father, who was Lord of the two Churches Sempringham, and Tyrington, being much de­lighted with the vertuous life of his sonne, bestowed both those be­nefices vppon him. Which charge he performed with soe great care and diligence, that by his often preaching, and worthie exam­ple of vertues, he did greatly incite his Parishoners to follow the footsteps of his pietie; in soe much that wheresoeuer they went, their religion, and pietie gaue a cleere testimonie vnto what Pastor, and Parish they belonged. Yet there wanted not some one (as it is ordinarie in soe great a multitude) who nothing answearing the expectation of soe good a Pastor, had deceaued him in the payment of their tithes. GILBERT hauing found out this deceipt, brought A rare example of zeale. the deceiuer to such straights, that he compelled him to emptie his barnes againe, and counting his corne sheff by sheff, to pay his due tithe to the vttermost. This done, to begett in others a detestation, and horrour of soe great an offence, he caused the ti [...]he soe gathered, forthwith to be fiered and consumed to ashes.

II. HE LIVED a while in the familie of Robert Bioet Bishop of Lin­colne, and Alexander his successour, where much against his will, he was honoured with the sacred dignitie of Priestood. From which He is made Priest. time, allthough before he had followed a verie singular, and pious course of life, he bent his endeauours much more exactly to all man­ner of deuotion, and chiefly to the workes of charitie and giuing of almes; being allwaies soe farr from all thought of ambition, that he vtterly refused to accept a worthie Archdeaconship of the Church of Lincolne, when it was earnestly offered, and allmost forced vppon He re [...]u­seth an A [...]chdea­conship. him. He had a singular inclination and as it were a naturall dispo­sition of mind, to helpe all poore people, but he chiefly excelled in succouring the femal sexe, of which he made choyse of seauen maydes, to whom he might more peculiarly shew his charitable li­beralitie. These he caused to vow perpetuall chastitie, and, hauing before hand had the couusell, and authority of Alexander Bishop of He institu­teth a reli­gio [...] o [...] [...]. Lincolne, he inclosed them in such sort, that noe man could haue [Page 137] anie accesse vnto them, being onlie a window left open, by which they receaued their prouision of victualls, which was serued in, by some poore woemen seruants, commonly called Lay Sisters: who afterwards were likwise bound to the same monasticall vowes: Then he prouided men seruants, whom he appoynted for the externe af­fayres, and husbandrie of the monasterie, who at length were bound by a solemne vow, to liue according to the prescript of the monasti­call rule of the house.

III. THESE holy endeauours of S. GILBERT were worthyly enter­tayned with the great applause of the king, and Princes, who for his furtherance therein, gaue verie large possessions of lands, and goods, Princes li­beralitie towards him. which he (compelled thereunto) partly receaued, and partly vtterly reiected; left the ouermuch abundance of riches should choke the first spring of his pious religion. In the meane time a great compa­nie of men, and woemen flocked togeather, to embrace this new institution. When he out of his great humilitie of mind, indging him self vnworthie to gouerne such a pious companie, made a iour­ney to the Abbey of Cisterce in France, where Pope Engenius at that He goeth into Fran­ce. time seiourned, that by his supreme authoritie, he might gett the assi­stance of some of the Cistercian monkes to vndertake the chardge, & care of his new ofspring. The Pope hauing made a curious, and exact inquirie of him, and his manner of life, and vnderstanding that Allmightie God had ennobled him, with manie admirable workes, was much grieued, that he had no sooner notice, & acquaī ­tance with him, that he might haue honoured him with the Archie­piscopal dignitie of Yorke. And now he iudged noe man fitter then him self (though verie vnwilling) to whom he might recommend The Pope approueth his endea­uours. the pious chardge of nourishing, bringing vp, enlarging, and go­uerning of his yong flock. In this place he fell into the acquaintance of the famous Archbishop of Jreland S. MALACHY, and S. BER­NARD Abbot, by whose prudent counsell, being much encou­raged in his intended course, he returned into England, and fer­uently prosecuted his pious beginnings. Then he appoynted Priests and other Clergymen of worthie life, and learning, to sing masse, to preach, and minister the holie Sacraments vnto the Nunnes. These had their lodgings, & dwellings a good distance from the Re­ligious woemen, nether were they permitted to enter into the mona­sterie, The disci­p [...]ine of [...]is mona­sterie. but when it was needfull to minister the Sacraments to the [Page 138] sick, and that in presence of manie graue witnesse. Allsoe they were neuer permitted to see their faces discouered, but allwaies vayled, for the better conseruing of religious modestie. A wonderfull, and chast discipline; Whatsoeuer was to be carried or related, frō within, was performed by the voyce or hands of two graue auncient Matro­nes, & for the same vse without doores, were deputed two old men, vnto whom their gray hayres had taught grauitie: and only these fower dispatched all their affayers without seeing one & other. Vnto the Nunnes, he gaue the rule of our holie father S. BENEDICT, and to their Clergie the rule of S. AVGVSTIN. Manie other particular sta­tuts, according to his owne liking, he collected out of the ordinances of other monasteries, all which he exactly sett downe in writing; which afterwards were established, and confirmed by the autoritie of Pope Engenius, and others. And the religious of this order were from S. GILBERT their authour, called Gilbertines.

IV. AS he excelled all of his monasterie in autoritie, and digni­tie, His exact obseruace, and strict manner of life. soe likewise went he farre beyond them in strictnes of life, and the exact obseruance of monasticall discipline. Noe man more sparing in his diet, for he allwayes abstayned from flesh, vnlesse some great siknes forced him to the cōtrarie, and in lent, and Aduent from fish allso, contenting him self only with herbes rootes, and such like, as his greatest dainties; in which, as in all other meates, he was soe sparing, that it was a wonder to the world how he could keepe aliue in soe great abstinence; when he notwithstanding all this seueritie was wont often times to complaine of eating ouer­much. One pious custom he euer obserued, which was to haue a certaine vessell, or platter sett on the table in time of dinner, which he called IESVS DISH, into which, not only the reliques, but some A pious custom. principal partes of all the meate, were to be reserued for the poore. He neuer vsed anie siluer, or gould plate on his table, but had it decked only with wodden, or earthen dishes, and spoones of horne; and often times sitting thereat, he would season his meate with his owne teares, which he shed for his sinnes, and thinking of the vanitie of the world and worldlings. He allwaies wore a hayre shirt next vnto his skinne, which very carefully he concea­led from others knowledge. Winter, and summer he vsed the same cloathes, nether more nor fewer, which seldom or neuer he put of, [Page 139] but tooke a small allowance of sleepe not in anie bed but sitting in a chayre, that he might be the readier at his awake to fall to his prayer, and meditations. Hauing gouerned his troupe a long He taketh a religious habitt. time, him self remayning in his secular apparell, and not obliged by anie vow vnto that profession of a monasticall life, which he prescribed vnto others; lest perchaunce his successours might take example thereby, he wholely submitted him self vnder the obedience of one Roger of Sempringham a Canon of the Church of Malton, and receaued the religious habitt, and discipline, which he had taught, and established; being now become of a master a scholler, euer honouring the sayd Roger (who afterwards suc­ceeded him) as his Tutor and teacher, during the whole remnant of his life.

V. BVT this holie man (God soe ordayning it) escaped not to His subiects accuse him falsely. be assaulted with the rude stormes of worldly troubles, and aduer­sities, and that from his owne domesticks, who according to their dutie ought with all reuerence to haue honoured him more then anie others. For amongst the layetie which we spake of, some there were, who wearie of their strict manner of life, malitiously plotted mischief against the holie man, falsely accusing him of manie fayned crimes, not only vnto THOMAS of Canturburie afterwards a martir; but euen vnto Pope ALEXANDER him self, in soe much that they greatly disquieted, and molested his peaceable course of life. The Pope committed the examination of this mat­ter, vnto Henrie Bishop of Winchester, and William of Norwich, who (in the absence of Winchester by reason of sicknes) made an exact His inno­cencio is made Knowne. inquirie, into the cause, and inquiring found out the truth, and made knowne the Innocencie of S. GILBERT vnto the Pope. In whose behalfe allsoe manie other Bishops, and Priors writt letters to Rome, but none soe exactly as the king him self, who tooke it verie heinously that those Lay-brothers, who (as he sayd) before their profession were meere rusticks, and clownes allotted only to the plough, should soe perfidiously swerue from that course of life professed by soe manie learned, and wise men, and that they should vniustly complaine of it, as exceeding the due limitts of strictnes, and seueritie, and with such impertinent boldnes moue heauen; and earth for a mitigation thereof. Herevppon the Pope sent a decree [Page 140] which confirmed the Priueleges graunted by his predecessor Eugenius, and Adrian, and also commaunded, that the whole order & discipline which GILBERT had prescribed, should remayne in the same force, and power for euer: signifieing moreouer in his peculiar letters vnto the King, and Bishops, and to GILBERT him self, that it was his will, that those obstinate fellowes should be by strong hand compelled to performe the dutie of their profession, and calling. Againe he is falsely accu [...]ed.

VI. HE was molested wich an other, though a smaller blast of ad­uersitie, when in the bitter persecution of that worthie bucklar of the Church S. THOMAS of Canturbury, he was brought in with some other of his fellowes, as hauing, contrarie to the kings comaund, sent ouer moneyes vnto the Bishop in banishment. At London therefore he is cited to appeare, with the rest of the Priors, and Procurators of all his monasteries, to answere there this bill of complaint. But the iudges, out of the great reuerence they bore vnto him, offered, that if only by oath he would disaffirme the fault layd to his charge, pre­sently he should be dismissed the court. Which most cōstantly he refu­sed to doe, soe that now he could expect nothing but him self to be banished, and all his monasteries to be sacked, and destroyed. When by the kings letters out of Normandie, the Iudges were comaunded to deferre the examination of his cause, vntill his returne home. Where­uppon the holy man was dismissed; who now sett free, and at libertie and taking his leaue, openly protested to the iudges, that he was most innocent of the fault layd against him. All were much astonished that now he confessed of his owne accord, that which before he had re­fused N [...] are [...]. to doe being in soe great danger, when with the safetie both of the truth, and his owne shamfastnes he might well haue performed it. But his mind conducted by a higher counsell, thought it could not choose but be a blemish, and imputation to his owne, and the Churches dignitie, and an act of bad exāple, yf at the barre in soe solemne a contestation he should haue openly professed that he had sent noe succour, as indeed he had not, vnto his Bishop, to whom he supposed him self obliged to haue sent.

VII. THE pious holie man liued in this sainctitie of life aboue one [...]. hundred yeares, in which time he foūded thirteene monasteries fower of men, stored with seauen hundred religious persons; & nine of woe [Page 141] men which contayned one thousand fiue hundred Nunnes. He died at Sempringham in the yeare of our lord 1190. the fourth day of February, whose sainctitie, allthough the course of his whole life doe sufficiently testifie, it pleased allmightie god notwithstanding to make it more famous, and manifest vnto the world, by wonderfull miracles which he wrought by his meanes, both whilst he enioyed this mortall life & after his death, or rather departure vnto the ioyes of immortall happines. For when yet he drew breath amongst men in this world, he had these inferiour creatures at commaund: fier, winds, and diseases after a wonderfull māner yeelded him obedience. Nether did he want His manie miracles. the guift of prophesie, foreseeing by a diuine power manie aduentures which should happen, and especiallly, when he foretould the end of those horribles broiles falling in the tyme of King Stephen.

VIII. AND allthough indeed these deedes and miracles be famous in number and greatnes, yet those which happened after his death doe farre excell them in both, for during his life time, he sought by all All disea­se [...] mira­c [...]lously cured at his tomb. meanes, to suppresse and hide his worthie deeds and vertues vnder the vayle of humilitie; but at his sepulcher the whole world was strucken with admiration, to behould the blind, deafe, dumbe, and mad persons restored to their senses, to see dropsies, palsies, feauers and manie other desperate diseases beyond the skill of phisick cured in a momēt & the verie deuills, to flie out of the bodies of persōs possessed, exclayming a­gainst the great power of S. GILBERTS sanctitie. And lest the vanitie of anie fiction or inuention might anie way disparage the truth of these famous accidents, and lest somwhat might be a little hyperbolically spoken of them, they were all called within the arrest of the strict exa­mine & knowledge of witnesses, whose sincere testimonie could not without great temeritie be excepted against. At which inquirie, besides manie other men famous for pietie, and learning, Hubert Archbishop of Canturbury was not only present, but President. And hauing found all the premises to be in truth most cleere & manifest, with one voyce they all signified soe much vnto Pope Innocent the third (who before His cano­ [...]tion by Pope Innocent. had committed the exact inquirie of this matter vnto them) and now being fullie informed of the truth, & greatnes of S. GILBERTS famous miracles, he enrolled him into the number of canonized Saincts, in the yeare 1202. in the raigne of King Iohn. The same yeare the eleauenth day of October his bodie was taken out of the earth & trāslated into a [Page 142] rich shrine, in which it was kept with great reuerence, and deuotion. His life is written by John Capgraue, and Nicholas Harpesfield Hist. Ecel. saec. 12. cap. 37. whom we haue followed. But it hath bin written more at large by some other authors whose names, I Know not.

The life of S. INAS King, and confessor, monk of S. BENEDICTS Order.
FEB. 6. Out of Ni­cholas Harpsfield hist. Eccl. saec. [...]. cap. 10.

INAS descending from the royall stemme of Saxon kings succeeded Cedwall in the kingdom of the Westsaxons, about the yeare of our lord six hundred eightie nine. He was a Prince accomplisht with most heroicque vertues of mind, in whom was an equall conten­tion betweene a rare Knowledge of militarie, & politick discipline, and a sincere deuotion to Christian religion, that being excellent in both it was hard to iudge in whether he excelled. He was a liuely patterne of fortitude, the true image of prudence, and a vertuous modell of religion. With which, and such like vertues, hauing setled his kingdom in peace both at home, and abroade, he then bent his whole endeauours to the enacting of good, and holesome lawes, to bridle the corrupt, and dissolute manners of his subiects, and to pre­uent such faultes and offences as are more incident vnto that age. Amongst others of his lawes some were touching the prerogatiues, & His good lawes and gouernmēt pollitick gouernment of the Church, where, a greuous punishmēt is al­lotted to such, as doe not permitt an infant to enioy the Sacrament of baptisme within thirtie dayes; and yf by such neglect he chaunced to die without baptisme, the father of the child incurreth the forfeiture of all his goods. Allsoe a seruant that by the commaunde of his master should worke on a sunday, was freed from the bondage, or seruice of his Master, who was taxed ouer & aboue with a forfeit of thirtie shillings. But yf a seruant should attempt the same of his owne accord, he was to be punished with stripes. Manie other good lawes were enacted by the prudence of this holy King, whose whole life indeed, was the liuely example of his lawes.

II. FVRTHER tokens of his pietie, and loue to religion, are the mo­nasteries His pietie in building Churches. which he soe sumptuously founded out of the expenses of his royall Exchecquer, and chiefly the Abbey of Welles, which he [Page 143] built from the ground, & the renowned Abbey of Glastenburie, which most stately he repayred for the monkes of S. BENEDICTS order, and dedicated the Church to our Sauiour, and S. PETER, and PAVL: It stood in a marish, and fennie place, little commodious for the preser­uation of bodily health, but verie proficuous for Christian philo­sophers, or monkes, who defend, that the happines of men doth consist chiefly in the spirituall health of the soule, and that they can with more attention applie their minds vnto the contemplation of heauenly things, the more remote they are from the flattering allure­ments of the eyes of the world. He enriched a chappell in this Church Note what wealth he bestowe [...]h on Glaste­bury. with an incomparable wealth of gould, and siluer, and gaue rich or­naments therevnto of an incredible value considering those times. For the building of the chappell he gaue two thousand six hundred for­tie pound weight of siluer; and to the aultar, two hundred threescore and foure pound weight of gold. A chalice with a patin, ten pound of gold; a Censar eight pound of gold; two candlesticks, twelue pound, and an halfe of siluer; a couer for the Ghospell-booke, or Missall, twentie pound weight of gould; vessells, & cruets for wine, and water to the aultar thirtie pound weight of gould; an holy-water-pott, twentie pound weight of siluar, Pictures of our Sauiour, our blessed Ladie, and the twelue Apostles, one hundred threescore, and fifteen pound weight of siluar, and twentie eight of pure gould; besides what was spent of both kinds, in the embroderie of the copes, vestments, and other ornaments, & a great number of pretious gemmes, & rich iewells embrouched therein. In these, and such, like workes of piety he spent his labour, time, & meanes, following chiefly in all his doings the holie counsels, & precepts of S. ALDELME a BENEDICTINE Monke, and Bishop of Sherburne, whom he all waies honoured, & reuerenced as the father, and spirituall guide of his soule. His wife perswades him to leaue the world.

III. IN THE meane time, his holie wife Ethelburg, a woeman of a royall stock, and of a mind as noble, neuer ceased dayly with a pious importunitie to sollicite him, that now at lest being well struck in yea­res, and come, as it were, into the winter of his age, he would quitte him self of the dangerous incūbrances of this world, & worldly cares, and attend only vnto God, and diuine matters. But finding (as before) that her words tooke little or noe hould in the Kings mind, she (as woemē neuer want inuētion) practised by a plott of pious subtletie to [Page 144] winne him to her good desires. And tooke her opportunitie, on a day whē the King, in his pallace adorned with the glittering splendour of courtly rarities, his table loadē with the pōpe of gould & siluer plate, had made a royall bāquet amongst his Nobles, and lauisht out much wealth in great mirth and iollity. On the morrow departing thence, the Queene presently cōmaunded the keeper of his lodgings, to defile, and as much as was possible to deforme all that former shew of glorie Note the subtletie of her in­ucution. by daubing, & pargetting the walls & floores of the house with the strong-sented plaster which cattle lay behind them, and to furnish the roomes with great store of rubbish & rubble, and all such ill fauoured stuffe that was most loathsome to the eye: & lastly into the Royall bed, where the King the night before had laine, an vglie sow, that had newly brought forth a litter of pigges, was honourably placed. Being then in the way, when she thought all this to be done according to her commaund, fayning some busines of great weight, & importāce, which could not be without great dāger omitted, she easily hastened the Kings returne, for as yet they were scarse a mile in their iourney. But entring his chamber of presence, & seeing the place, which but yester­day might be compared with the delights of Sardanapalus him self, soe suddenly deformed, & changed into soe vglie and horrid a spectacle, he was thunder-strucken with admiration at this vnexpected Meta­morphose, and stood staggering a while in the consideration thereof: When the Queene, taking her time by the foretop, with a smiling countenance asked him: Whither (sayd she) my souueraigne lord) is all yesterdaies glorious splēdour vanished? where is all that superfluous riot? What is become of all those curious and exquisite cates sought for by sea, & lād, to satisfie the inordinate appetite of gluttonie? Where are the gould, and siluer vessells which but yesterday made the table bow vnder their massie weight? Where is all the noyse of our loud Thus pas­seth the glorie of the world. mirth and iollitie? Is it not vanished, like a blast of wind or a vaine puffe, of smoake? and doe not wee that fill our selues more daintyly, & largely, corrupt afterwards more miserably? Behould then the true picture of the glittering vanities, & allurements of the world, & learne at last to shunne & flie them. She sayd no more: When it was strange to see what a deepe incisiō this made in the Kings heart, & how much more she had gayned by the rudenes of this visible spectacle, then by all her former persuasions, that not without cause the Poet sayd:

IV. IN SVMME this strainge Pageant wrought soe farre in the good Inas resol­ueth to forsake the world. Kings mind, that now he began seriously to consider with him self of the vanitie of worldly state, and finding one what sharpe thornes of cares grew the sweet seeming roses of a crowne, he putt on a strong resolution with him self to bid adiew to the world. And now when he had gouerned his common wealth with a name of greate prayse, and prosperitie, and shewed manie benefitts there­vnto for the space of thirtie seauen yeares and odd moneths, re­nouncing the resplendent glorie of his present and princely estate, he voluntaryly left his temporall Kingdome, which with victo­rie soe long he had ruled, and for the loue of allmightie God, and the gaine of his eternall kingdome, he, that heretofore had con­quered princes, now gott the vpper hand and conquest of him self, and with a greater glorie then he had borne them he robbed him self of the princely spoiles of his bodie, the better to ennoble and en­rich his soule. Which that he might more conueniently and fruct­fully He goeth to Rome. bring to passe; he went to Rome the head of Catholick reli­gion to visitt the sacred tombes of the Apostles, vnder whose pro­tection he hoped more easyly to obtaine the grace and fauour of allmightie God, whēce his countrey had first receaued the Christian fayth; resoluing to spend the remnant of his life, with a quiet and contented mind, farr from all worldly cares and troubles, in a holie conuent of Monkes. Which with great pietie he perfourmed, putting on the habitt of a Benedictine monke (vnto which order He taketh the habit of S. Bene­dict. he had euer bin a worthie benefactour) not in a publick con­course of poeple (which doubtlesse would haue been great at soe vnwonted a spectacle) but priuately, before God alone, and the Conuent of monkes: giuing hereby a liuely example of humilitie, and true contempt of the world, in not desiring to haue this his he­roick act of pietie anie way to redounde vnto his owne glorie, out of the vaine prayses, and false honours of the flattering world.

V. HE was the first of our English Kings who to shew his great His deuo­tion to the Roman Church. deuotion vnto the Church of Rome, caused the annuall tribute [Page 146] called Romescote or Peter-pence to be payed vnto the Pope, which was a pennie out of euer ie familie in England, and was afterwards duely payd for the space of manie hundred yeares: and which is most to be wondred at, noe sooner ceased this payment, but our English Church was swallowed vp into the gulph of heresie, and togeather with the temporall, lost all spirituall subiection vnto the Vicar of CHRIST vppon earth. Allso this holie King INE built at Rome a Church in honour of our Blessed ladie, in which, all English that He built a Church at Rome came thither, might heare masse, and receaue the Sacraments, and be buried yf need were. With like pietie he erected there a schoole gi­uing yearly annuities therevnto, wherein his Countreymen might And a free-schoole. be brought vp in all manner of good learning, and Christian reli­gion, and discipline. Which seemeth to haue bin in that place, which now is called the English Hospitall, and is inhabited by English Priests, being of noe small commoditie for the entertaynment of Pilgrins which now adayes flock thither out of England.

VI. Now he that in former times had ruled a Kingdome, begā in this sweete schoole of vertues to find, that in rendring him self subiect for The hap­pines of a religious, life. the loue of CHRIST, he enioyed a greater Kingdome, and that to be master ouer his one passions, was the only best and truest dominion. Now he had time freely to insist in the meditation of the diuine goodnes, wherein he found the trueth of that versicle of the Royall Psalmist. TAST, AND SEE, FOR OVR LORD IS SWEET. He found how sweet a thing it was to carrie the yoake of our Lord, in the Psalm. 33. 58. continuall exercise ef patience, humilitie, and obedience, in which and other pious offices of vertue, and religion, he spent the rest of his mortalitie, vntill by the king of Kings, vnder whose ensigne he had serued, he was called into the heauenly kingdom, to receaue a His happie death. crowne of eternall glorie, insteed of the temporall crowne, which for his loue he had left. He died a Benedictin Monk at Rome about the yeare of our Lord 727. and lies buried at the Entrance of the Church of S. PETER, and PAVL as the tables of the same Church doe testifie. His life me haue gathered cheefly out of WILLIAM MALNESRV­ [...]IE, de reg. Ang. and NICOLAS HARPFIELD. hist. Eccl. saec. 8. cap. 10. Polidore Virg. lib. 4. Mathew westminster an. 727. Baronius, and all our English Historio­graphers make verie honorable mention of him, and he is highly commended of all, for his wonderfull contempt of the world, and loue to pietie, and relig ion.

The life of S. ELFLED Virgin and Abbesse of the holy order of S. BENEDICT.
FEB. 8. Taken Out of venerable Bede.

SAINCT ELFLED was daughter vnto Oswy King of the Nor­thumbers, who after manie cruell inuasions of the mercilesse Pen­da; was forced to sue vnto him for peace with proffers of infinite treasure, and verie rich iewels: all which the barbarous Tirant re­iecting, pursued his deadly enterprise, protesting vtterly to extin­guish him and his countrey. King Oswy, humane meanes fayling him, had recourse vnto a higher power, making a sacred vow vnto the allmightie god of armies, that he would consecrate his daughter ELFLED to the profession of perpetuall chastitie, and giue twelue V [...]wes of chastity pleasing vnto God. farmes with the land therevnto belonging to the erection, and foun­dation of monasteries, yf by his diuine assistance, and to his greater honour he should ouerthrow the insolent pride of his Barbarous enemie. This sayd, with a heart full of cōfidence he prepared him self, and his small armie for the battle. The number of his aduersaries are reported to haue redoubled thirtie times his, all well repoynted, and old tried souldiers: against whom bouldly marched King Oswy, with his sonne Al [...]frid. The battle was fought were the riuer Junet, which at that time ouerflowed his banks, soe that the Victorie falling with Oswy, more by flight were drowned in the water, then King Oswy victorious ouer Pen­da. slaine with the sword. And herein proud Penda payd death his due, with the ouerthrow of all his Mercian power. This noble victo­rie, being by gods holy assistance soe nobly, or rather miraculous­ly wonne, King Oswy gaue infinite thankes vnto allmightie God, and for performance of his vow made, he deliuered his daughter ELFLED, as yet scarse a yeare old, to be brought vpp in a monaste­rie of Benedictine nunnes, called Heretheu vnder the pious conduct of S. HILDA; And withall he gaue the lands of one hundred and twen­tie families, for the building and maintayning of monasteries. But two yeares afterwards, S. HILDA purchased the possession of tenne Elfled ta­keth the habit of S. Bene­dict. families, and built the monasterie of Streanshall, where ELFLED being come to age first receaued the habit of S. BENEDICTS order; and [Page 148] hauing bin long trained vp in this holy schoole of vertue in the con­tinuall exercise of monastical discipline, she afterwards succeeded S. HILDA, being for her holy life chosen Abbesse of that place, and became a mistresse of vertue vnto the whole cōuent, gouerning her virgin subiects in the ioyes of virginitie with the care of a mo­therly pietie, and inuiting them to the true obseruance of religion, by the vertuous, and pious example of her owne life.

II. WHILST thus she ennobled the nobilitie of her stock, with the greater nobilitie of vertue, she fell into a grieuous sicknes, that made her allmost tast the bitternes of deaths pangs; and when the skill of phisick could nothing auayle her, suddely by the grace of the She falleth sick. diuine phisition, she was taken out of the gates of death, and freed from all her inward paines, yet still remained in soe great weaknes of her limmes, that she could nether stand, nor goe, but was forc't to creepe on all fower: in soe much that with sorrow she began to feare a perpetuall lamenes, hauing long since despayred of the phi­sitians helpe. Till one day sitting pensiuely in the anguish of her sorrowfull thoughts, the great sainctity of S. CVTHBERT whō she loued dearly, came into her mind, and presently, she wished to haue somthing from him, firmely beleeuing, and trusting thereby to receaue perfect health. Not long after there comes one which She reco­uereth by miracle. brought her a linnen gyrdle sent from S. CVTBERT: She greatly re­ioyced with that present, and vnderstanding that her desire was made knowne by diuine reuelation vnto the holy man, gyrt her self with the same gyrdle,, and one the morrow after, she became able to stand on her feet, and the third day, she was restored to perfect health to the great admiration of all. Within a short time after being desirous to cōmunicate to others the great blessing bestowed vppon her self, she applied the same gyrdle vnto one of her Nunnes, that was allmost dead with an insufferable payne which dayly in­creased more & more in her head; but noe sooner had this holy Vir­gin of CHRIST bound her about the temples with that gyrdle, but the payne ceased & perfect health succeeded. Afterwards B. S. CVTH­BERT Bishop of Linsdisfarne came him self in person to visitt this ho­ly Virgin, and to consecrate a Church. Where, as the holy man sate at table, he saw in a vision the soule of a seruant that died at her monasterie at that verie time. The holy virgin being desirous to [Page 149] know who it was: to morrow (replied S. CVTHBERT) before I goe to masse thou wilt tell me his name. She sent to know, and on the morrow, as the bishop was dedicating the Church, she came running Masse for the dead. to him in a womanish amazement, as yf she had brought some great newes. I desire you my Lord (sayd she) to be mindfull in your Masse of Hadwald (thas was his name) who died falling from a tree as he was cutting wood.

III. WHEN this most noble, and holy virgin of CHRIST, ELLFED had for manie yeares ruled her monasterie in great Sainctitie, and preserued the sacred treasure of her virginitie from her tendrest infancie to the age of threescore yeares, she deliuered vpp her pure soule to the most happie and long desired mariage of her heauenly spouse, about the yeare of our Lord 714. She was buried in the Church of the same monasterie dedicated to S. PETER, togeather with her father King Oswy, and Queene Enfleda her mother. But by the Danish furie, that as manie other monasteries, was vtterly de­stroyed; till afterwards it was againe reedified for monkes of S. BE­NEDICTS order, and called by the name of Whiteby. And lastly is was translated to the walles of the cittie of Yorke, and dedicated to our Lady. But after the raigne of William conquerour, the sacred reliques of S. ELFLED with others, being found amongst those ruines, were honourably placed in a more eminent degree, worthy the meritts of soe great a sainct. Thus much of S. ELFLED we haue gathered chiefly out of S BEDE de gest. lib. 3. c. 24. William malmesbury de gest. Pōt. Ang. lib. 3 Ma­thew Westmin an. 655. NICHOLAS HARPSFIELD hist. Eccl. saec. 7. cap. 27. & other English writers.

The life of S. THELIAN Bishop and confessor.
FEB. 9. Out of an auncient Authour

SAINCT THELIAN an auncient Britan borne of noble parents' much more ennobled his stock by the splendor of his vertues. He was Scholler vnto Dubricius bishop of Landaff, vnder whose holy care he attayned vnto that height of wisedome, & learning, that as yet He was called [...], and way? but a youth he obtained the name of Helios, which in Greeke signi­fieth the Sunne, for his sacred doctrine shined like the sunne, and [Page 148] [...] [Page 149] [...] [Page 150] dispersing the darknes of sinne, and infidelity, lightened the hearts of the faythfull poeple of his countrey, with the sacred beames of true religion, and vertue. But hearing the fame of a prudent and holy man called Paulin he went vnto him, and conferred with him concerning the more secret and abstruse places of the holy scripture: where he entred into acquintaince with great S. DAVID Bishop of His loue to S. Dauid Meneuia, betweene whom the grace of the holy ghost tied soe strict a knott of true loue, and friendship, that they were esteemed in those dayes as a noble payre of friends of one mind and soule. But while they liued togeather in a delightfull and mutuall accord of sainctitie, certaine barbarous poeple (who eyther from their pain­ted garments, as from some markes in their eyes were called Picts) landed with a great nauie vppon the coastes of Britannie, and being taken with a loue of the countrey, set vppon the Brittans, more by deceipt then force, and for a time, bore a tirannous sway amongst them. One of theyr princes murdring the countrey before him, and burning Churches, and howses at he went, arriued at length neere vnto Meneuia, where he built him self a pallace. And per­ceauing Enuie plot­teth mis­chief against him the liues of S. DAVID, and THELIAN to be soe holy and soe contrarie to his proceedings he greatly enuied them, and spitt much of his venom in opprobrious & reproachfull speeches against them, whom he could not iustly condemne of anie fault. And at length to make his malice bring forth the child of wickednes, he commaun­ded his wife to send her mayds, and make them the instruments of mischief, by their lewd art, and lasciuious allurements and motions of their naked bodies to at [...]empt the ouerthrow of the holy mens good purposes. But as those wanton things followed their mistres­ses A iust pu­nishment of malice, directions, and in the dishonest execution thereof exercised a kind of fayned phrensie, or madnes in presence of the saincts, sud­denly they became mad indeed, and returned to their commaun­ders without sufficient discourse to relate their owne misfortune. Which being seene of that cruel persecutour, turned all his furie into meekenes, and both he and his whole familie receaued the fayth of CHRIST, and were washed in the sacred font of Bap­tisme.

II. NOT long after S. THELIAN togeather with S. DAVID made a He goeth to Hierusa­lem, iourney to Hierusalem, where they spent some time in continuall [Page 151] prayer, and visitation of the sacred places, wherein our deare Sauiour wrought the miracles of his bitter passion, and our deare redemp­tion: in those places they were wrapt in holy contemplatlon, that they had noe memorie or thought of anie thing that was in this world. Vnto S. THELIAN as he returned home they gaue a Cimball of more worth then greatnes, and more precious then it was fayre, for the sweet tunes thereof seemed to excell the sound of an organ; it rung at euerie hower of its owne accord. And this was a true figure of S. THELIAN who like vnto a cimball, or bell which rayseth men from the dullnes of sleepe, and slouth, to prayse and serue God in the Church, did he, by his vertues, and holie sermons, stirre vpp By his prayers he expelleth, the plague the hearts of the poeple vnto God, out of the dungeon of sinne and wickednes. Being returned prosperously into Wales, by his prayers vnto allmightie God he freed the poeple frō a cruell plague, which miserably wasted and deuoured the countrey. Afterwards, succee­ding Dubritius in the Bishoprick of Landaff in that sacred dignitie he spent the whole remnant of his life; gouerning his diocesse rather with his sainctitie, and example of good life, then by the exercise of his poewr and authoritie. At length loaden with merits and old age by the happie losse of this fading world, he purchased an euer­lasting dwelling in heauen, the ninth day of February about the yere of our Lord 563. The manie Churches in South Wales dedi­cated to S. THELIAN which to this day retayne his memorie by the Manie Churches dedicated to his name. name of Llanthilo, or Llanthilio, are vnresistables witnesses and proofes of his great Sainctitie, and as yet his prayse is fresh in the mouthes of all faythfull Whelchmen, allthough the greatest part of that wretched nation doe liue in such blindnes, that they would ra­ther pluck him out of heauen, then doe him, or anie other of Gods Saincts anie honour at all: contemning herein the counsell of the kingly prophet who inuiteth vs to prayse God in his Saincts with Psal. 150. v 1. whom he liueth for euer. Amen. Thus much of this Saincts life we haue gathered out of IOANNES ANGLICVS recited by IOHN CAPGRAVE in his le­gend. and NICOLAS HARPSFIELD saec. 6. cap. 27.

The life of S. TRVMWINE Bishop and Confessor of the holy order of S. BENEDICT.
FEB. 11. Out of venerable Bede. de gest. An. lib. 4.

TRVMWINE a mā of verie holy life was by Theodore Archbishop of Canturbury ordayned Bishop of the Picts then subiect to the En­glish; But after the ouerthrow and death of Egfrid king of the Nor­thumbers caused by the same Picts, S. TRVMWINE togeather with ma­nie other monks of the monasterie of Ebbercune in the cōfines of the Picts, and English, retired him self out of that Prouince; and hauing recommended the greatest part of his monks to diuers monasteries according as he was able, he him self chose his habitation at the Mo­nasterie of Streanshall, where vnder the holy rule of S. BENEDICT, with a few of his companion-monks, he led a most strict monasti­call life, profitable not only to him self, as tending to the height of perfection, but to manie others allsoe. The Princely virgin S. ELFLED (of whom the eigth of this moneth) was the Abbesse of that monasterie, who by the coming, of this holy Bishop receaued great helpes in her regencie, and much comfort for the directing of her owne life in the way of pietie. The place where the Bishop with his monks liued, was separate from the monasterie of enclosed Nun­nes, but not soe farre but that they were readie in all occasions, to helpe them with the sacraments, and all other spirituall comforts of their priestly function and dignitie. The most holy Bishop TRVM­WINE Hist. l. 4. c. 2 [...]. (as venerable BEDE stiles him) hauing liued there in great holines of life the space of manie yeares, at length yeelded vp his Blessed soule to make One in the glorious quier of Benedictin Bishops in heauen. His bodie was buried in the Church of S. PETER ac­cording De gest. Pon. l. 3. §. de Pont. Eborac. to the honour due vnto his blessed life, and degree of sa­cred dignitie. His holy reliques (sayth Malmesburie) togeather with others were found in the quier of that Monasterie, and transla­ted to a more eminent place becoming the sainctitie of soe great a Sainct: Of him make honorable mention, besides the aforesayd authors, Mathew Westminster, Trithemius in his 3. Booke of the famous men of [Page 153] S. BENEDICTS order chap. 167. Arnold Wion and all our English histo­riographers. He florished about the yeare of our Lord 700.

The life of S. CEDMON confessor and monk of the holy order ofS. BENEDICT.
FEB. 10. Taken out of Ve nerable Bede.

AS THE diuine guifts of tongues, wisedome, learning, and such like wherewith it pleased allmigtie God to furnish his holy Apostles, and adorne the primitiue Church, haue not been wanting in later ages, soe haue they not fayled in the time when our English­men first receaued the Catholick fayth. An abundant, and worthy example hereof we may behould in this holy Benedictin monke CED­MON, He beco­meth lear­ned by mi­racle. who out of the rudenes of ignorance, and mere simplicitie in matter of learning, by the speciall grace of God, became soe nota­ble and soe religious a poet in his mother tongue, that whatsoeuer he could learne out of the holy scriptures by the help of interpre­ters, he would presently turne into verse, with such a sweet and mouing straine, that by the force thereof, manie were oftentimes incited to contemne the world, being thereby enflamed with a pious desire of a heauenly and euerlasting life. Manie others there were amongst the English which essayed to imitate his holy poetrie, but noe man was comparable vnto him. For he learned not this art by anie mans helpe, but receaued it gratis by the speciall guift and grace of the diuine goodnes. Whence it was that he could not make anie friuolous or vanie poeme, but such things only which belonged vnto pietie and religion, could become his religious and godly tongue. He receaued this diuine gui [...]t vppon this occa­sion.

II. WHILEST he liued a secular man in the world, which was till he was well struck in yeares, and was seruant to the mona­sterie of Benedictine Nunnes of S. HILDA, hauing neuer before learned anie thing touching eyther verses, or finging, he chaun­ced to be in a banquet, where for their greater merriment and recreation it was agreed vppon by the whole companie [Page 154] that euery one should sing a song in his course, but CEDMON when FEB. 12. he saw the harpe come neere him, being guiltie of his owne ignoran­ce in that qualitie, arose from the table, and went home to his owne house. The like he had practised diuers times, till once it fell out, that going out of the companie vppon the same occasion, he went into the stable, to take care of the cattle which that night were cōmitted to his chardge: where when the time of the night compelled him to giue his bodie to sleepe, he beheld as it were in a dreame, a man standing by him, that saluted him and called him by his name saying: CEDMON, I pray thee sing me a song. I cannot sing, (answeared be,) & He en­ioyeth a strange vision. for that cause I forsoke my companie, & came hither, because I could not sing. But yet (replied the other) thou hast somwhat to sing vnto mee. What (sayd he) must I sing? The beginning of all creatures, (answeared the other.) At which word presently in prayse of God the creatour of the word, he began to sing verses which he neuer had heard before; whereof this is the sense. Now must we prayse the au­thour of the heauenly Kingdom, the power of our Creatour, his counsel, and wisedom, and the workes of the father of glorie. How he bring God [...] was the authour of all miracles, who first created heauen to the children of men for the top of their dwelling, and next, the allmightie guardian of He hath the art of singing, & ver [...]isying by reuela­tion. mankind made the earth, for the floore thereof. At his rising he per­fectly remembred whatsoeuer he had soug in his sleepe, whereunto he added afterwards manie excellent verses more of the same mat­ter: and coming in the morning to the baylife of the monastery, who was his master, he reuealed vnto him the great guift he had receaued, and being brought to the presence of the Blessed Abbesse S. HILDA, he was commaunded to relate his dreame vnto manie learned men that were present, and to repeate his verses, that by the generall iudgment of them all, it might be tried and examined, what it was, and whence that which he reported did proceed. Which done, it seemed vnto them all to be most certaine that the diuine goodnes had bestowed some heauenly grace, and guift vppon him. And for better triall thereof they expounded vnto him the processe of a historie out of the sacred scripture, commaunding him, yf he could, to turne that likewise into the shape of true meeter, and verse. He vndertoke the task, & brought it admirably well per­formed against the next morning. Wherevppō the Abbesse admiring [Page 155] soe great a guift in a secular man dealt earnestly with him to forsake the world, and to embrace the monasticall habitt, and profession of a monk.

III. WHO fearing to be vngratfull for those diuine benefitts, which God soe largely, and beyond all hope had bestowed vppon him, and that he might the more increase his diuine talent by a quiet, and He taketh the habit of S. Bene­dict. contemplatiue manner of life, he betoke him self to the same mo­nasterie of S. HILDA called Sthreanshall, where amongst the other brethren he receaued the habitt of S. BENEDICTS order, and straight, by the commaundment of the holy Abbesse, he was taught the sa­cred storie of the diuine scripture, which he made to runne in such sweete lines of meeter, that his masters were glad in that art to be­come his schollers. He made poems in English of the creation of the world, of the origine of mankind, and of all the other histories and sacred misteries of both Testaments: and lastly of the terrour of the vniuersal iudgment, of the horrour of hells dreadfull torments, and of the sweetnes of the neuer-dieing ioyes of heauen. By which, and manie other his noe lesse elegant then deuout poesies, he redu­ced manie from the downfall of [...], and wickednes, to the amend­ment of their liues, and the diuine loue of heauen.

IV. FOR he was a man verie religious most free from all counterfait His reli­gious ob­seruance. colour of vanitie, and with a sincere plainnes, and humble simplicitie (the chief armes of the Benedictin order) wholely subiect vnto the rules of regular, & monasticall discipline: but enflamed with a pious zeale of great feruour against those, that did anie way seeme to di­sobey the good order of the monasterie. When it came passe that the allmightie ruler of life, and death, gaue him the grace to finish the course of his godly life, with an end worthie soe great sainctitie. For the hower of his death being at hand, fourteen dayes before he was visited with a corporal disease, by which, allthough it were verie mo­derate and gentle, he foretold his neere-ensuing end. And therefore the night before he departed he desired to haue a bed prouided him in the Infirmarie, which was a place for such only as were in a mor­tall disease. The brother that attended him, wondring why he, that seemed to haue noe more signes of death in him should desire such a remooue, obeyed his will, allthough he iudged it to little or no pur­pose. Being placed in the Infirmarie, when togeather with those that [Page 156] were there before, the time was spent in merrie discourse till after midnight, CEDMON on the sudden, demaunded yf the holie sacra­met The ble­ssed acra­men. reser­ued for the sick. of the EVCHARIST were within; You that are soe merrie) answea­red they) need not soe to hasten to the sacrament, for death can­not lay hold on a heart soe ioyfull and lustie as yours yet seemes to bee. Againe he instantly desired to haue the holy sacrament: Which being brought, before he would receaue it, he humbly desired par­don of all his brethren yf in anie thing he had offended them, and imparted the like courtesie vnto them, earnestly crauing it of him; and then with great reuerence, fortifieing him self with that heauen­ly Viaticum, he prepared his pious soule to enter into the happie voyage of euerlasting life.

V. THIS done, he asked the assistants how long it was to the hower that the Monkes should rise to Mattins. They answered, that the time was not farre of. Well then (sayd he) let vs quietly expect that Blessing with the signe of the Crosse. good hower. And within a while, when the standers by nothing sus­pected his death, arming him self with the signe of the holy crosse (the only signe of our redemption) and softly inclining his head vp­pon the pillow, he tooke a sweet slumber, and therwithall in great His death correspon­dent to his life. silence, and tranquillitie both of mind, and bodie, he deliuered vp his still soule into the hands of his redeemer. Soe that by the diuine prouidence it came to passe, that euen as he serued our Lord in his life time, with a pure, and quiet deuotion of mind, soe leauing this world, he went to enioy the cleere vision of him he had serued, by a peaceable, and vntroubled death. And that elegant tongue which had sung so manie sweet lines, & poems in prayse of his creatour, did close vpp the breath of his last words to gods honour & glorie, when blessing him self with the signe of life, & recōmending his soule into the hands of his deare redeemer, he changed this temorall life for an eternall. He died about the yeare of our Lord 670. After the time of King William conquerour, his bodie was found among the ruines of the monasterie of Streanshall, and honourably shrined, & sett vpp in a Inuention of his bo­die. place worthie soe great a relique, where the manie miracles wrought through his meritts are euident witnesses of what high esteeme he was in the fauour of allmightie God, who is euer gloriousi n his saincts. Amen. His life we haue gathered out of Venerable Bede de gest. Ang. lib. 4. cap. 24. Nicholas Harpsfield saec. 7. cap. 36. William Malmes­bury [Page 157] de gest. pont. Aug. lib. 3. Arnould Wion l. 2. cap. 62. and other grau [...] authours make honourable mention of him. And be is highly com­mended of all, for his great vertue, and holy life, and conuersa­tion.

The life of S. ERMENILD Queene, and Abbesse of the holy order of S. BENEDICT.
FEB. 13. Gathered out of di­uers Au­thours.

SAINCT ERMENILD was daughter to Erconbert King of Kent, and S. SEXBVRG his queene: naturally and from the womb, she inhe­rited her good mothers propension to workes of pietie, compassion, and relieuing of euerie ones necessitie. Both mother, and daughter vsed the same bountie, and charitie towards all, and being both queenes on earth, they had both the same pious desires, and affectiōs to the King and kingdom of heauen. ERMENILD was giuen in ma­piage vnto Wulfere King of the Mercians, and by that meanes the kingdom of Kent was happily vnited to that of the Mercians. At that time, her husband Wulfere being but newly baptised, his poeple were but rude, and scarse well setled in the Catholick fayth, but S. ERMENILD, who had bin trayned vp from her infancie in true ver­tue, pietie, and religion, with her care, and singular example of holy life, her wise, and prudent exhortations, and manie benefits liberally bestowed vppon them, tamed the obstinate heartes, of that rude, and vnlearned poeple, and brought them vnder the sweet yoake of IESVS CHRIST, by a mild force, and a forceble mildnes, subduing those per­uerse & rebellious mindes, to the obediēce of the Catholick Church.

II. SVCH and soe great was the feruour, & zeale of this holy woemā to the seruice, & honour of allmightie God, & propagation of Christiā religiō, that she was wholely carelesse of all other affayres in respect thereof, neuer ceasing vntill she had quite destroyed Idolls, rooted out all the diuelish rites of Idolatrie, and furnished her Kingdō with churches, & Priests for the cōfort, & saluatiō of her poeple whom in [Page 158] the end she accustomed diligently to frequent the diuine seruices and sacraments, and all other duties of Christian pietie, and deuo­tion. And this her godly zeale was much promoted by the royall power and authoritie of the king her husband, who inuited by her pious example, much aduanced her good endeauours, and did manie good workes him self, admiring to see the whole intentions & mind, of his wife amōgst the turbulent broiles of the world, to be allwaies soe truely fixed on the contemplation of heauen, and heauenly things. Besides she did abound in charitie, and compassion towards the poore, & all such as were in necessitie, and affliction, in soe much that neuer anie came to her that departed without consolation, and her liberall almes, to relieue their want.

III. AT length after the death of her husband, with whom she had She taketh the habit of S. Bene­dicts order. liued seauenteen yeares, and been mother of S. WEREBVRG, (whose life you may read the third of this moneth) hauing hither vnto ouer­come all others, she now ouercame her self; for goeing to the mo­nasterie of Benedictin Nunnes at Ely, she renounced all mortall pompe and glorie, for the pure loue of the immortall, and putt on the habit of S. BEMEDICTS order, vnder the gouernment of her holy mother S. SEXBVRG then Abbesse of the same place: Where by humilitie and obedience she became queene of her owne passions, and spent the remnant of her life in continuall fasting, and prayer, and all other austerities of a vertuous and religious life. And after the death of the Abbesse S. SEXBVRG, S. ERMENILD was chosen in her place, in which office whilest she dischardged the dutie of a verie religious & vertuous Matrone, inciting her subiects by her owne good examples to embrace the rules of true religion, she was deliuered out of this mortall prison, and called to receaue the euerlasting reward of her labours in heauen; the thirteenth day of February about the yeare of our Lord 685. and was buried in the same monasterie. Where, after her death, it pleased allmightie God for the honour, and glorie of this sainct, to worke manie miracles at her tombe. Whereof one was, that a Saxon condemned for some offence to be bound with iron chaines, or rings, being on a time present at Masse in the monasterie of Elie, and as he prayed before the bodie of S. ERME­NILD, about the time the ghospell was reading, his irons, forced by some secret, and diuine power, fell suddenly from his armes, to the [Page 159] great admiration of manie that were present at the sayd masse. Her life we haue gathered out of Ioannes Anglicus recited by Iohn Capgraue, William Malmesbury de gest. reg. Angl. lib. 2. cap. 13. & de gest. pontif. lib. 4. Mathew Wistminster anno. 676. and Wigorniensis an. 675. mention is made of her by Molanus in his additions to Vsuard, Peter, in his catalogue of saincts, Arnold Wion in his Martirologe, and manie others.

Of the translation of S. EDWARD King, and Martir.
FEB. 18. Out of the Au­thor of his life recited by Surius.

THE bodie of glorious King EDWARD the martir, when he had suffered a most vniust death by the malicious and wicked ti­rannie of his stepmother Alfrith, was by her commaundment most ignobly buried & hidden in a watrie marsh, or fenne neere Warrhā, hoping thereby to blott out all memorie both of him, and her owne impietie. But within the compasse of a yeare, the high allseer and ouerseer of men actions determining to make his Martir famous to the world, and to make knowne of how great meritt he was in his sight, voutchased to reueale vnto some faythfull Christians that de­uoutly sought it, the place where that worthie relique was vnwor­thyly A Pillar of light ap peareth ouer his bodie. concealed. For a pillar of light sent from heauen appeared ouer that part of the marsh were the bodie lay, & filled a great piece of the ground neere adioyning with the glittering beames of a glo­rious and heauenly lustre. This being perceaued by manie deuout mē of the next village (for it appeared oftentimes) they mett togeather, & hauing by diligent searching found that sacred treasure, they car­ried, it into the village of Warrham. Great was the concurse of poeple pittifully bewayling the death of their most pious King, and faythfull protectour; and in the noyse of these lamentations the ve­nerable bodie was transported into the Church of our Blessed Ladie in the same towne, and buried on the East side thereof, with great reuerence, the thirteenth day of February; and ouer his sepulcher some deuout persons built a little cabbin which remayned there a S Edwards Well cu­reth disea­ses. long time after. But out of the place where he had layne before, [Page 160] there sprung vpp a fountaine of most sweet, and pure water which was called S. Edwards well, by vertue whereof manie sick persons to the greater glorie of CHRIST and his martir receaued afterwards the wished benefitt of their health.

II. But now by the trumpett of flieing fame, the impious deceipt of Queene Alsrith was diuulged all ouer England, the innocēcie of the murdered King and his vertues, and high deserts were by the gene­rall acclamation of all extolled to the skies. The newes arriued at length to the eares of Duke Alferus, who (allthough heretofore he stood for the Queene against his King and togeather with her had much wrōged and grieued the monkes in destroyeing manie of their monasteries) yet now being willing to doe some satisfaction for his Duke Al­fere prepa­reth for his transla­tion. faults past, and to shew at left his faithfull seruice vnto the dead bodie of his master whom aliue he had nor honoured as his dutie required, he determined to translate his holie reliques into a more honourable place, and to that end he exhorted the Bishops, Abbotts and other peeres of the realme as manie as he could draw to his side to lay their helping hands to his pious endeuours. He sent likewise a messenger vnto the Benedictin Nunnes at VVilton in Wiltshire, where holy EDITH Kings EDWARDS sister at that time, led a religious life, earnestly entreating Wilfred the Abbesse thereof with her de­uout Conuent of Virgins, not to be wanting at the exequies of soe holy a King. Herevppon the bishops, abbotts, and manie others meeting togeather, with great care, and reuerence, Duke Alferns ha­uing gathered a huge multitude of men and woemen out of Dorset­shire, came with great deuotion to Warrham, where that royall bo­die His bodie is found vncorrup­ted. was but poorely buried: And in presence of the companie his sepulcher being opened, the bodie (which had laine there for the space of three yeares) was found to be as entier, and whole from all corruption, as yf it had been buried but the same day. Which being perceaued by the bishops, and the whole multitude, with one voyce they sung himnes, and prayses vnto allmigthie God, who by soe ma­nifest a token had declared, and brought to light the innocencie, and worth of his holy martyr. But sainct EDITH his sister being noe lon­ger S. Edith his sister. able to contayne the pious loue of her brother within the limitts of her virgin-breast, ranne to his dead bodie, and falling downe on her knees, clipped it with her louing embracements, honou­red [Page 161] it with her religious kisses, washing his seeming-liuely race with the streames of her ioyfull teares, as one not able to be satiated with that soe great glorie of her glorious brother. But then by the hands of some venerable and reuerend men, these sacred spoiles were lifted vpp, and carried with great reuerence, and the wonderfull gratulation of the Clergie, & poeple, to the famous mo­nasterie of Benedictin Nunnes, at Shaftesburie in Dorsetshire, which King Elfred father to S. EDWARDS great grandfather, for loue of his daugh­ter Ailene who became a nunne there, had erected and enriched with very ample guifts, and possessions.

III. In the meane time being yet in their iourney with that sacred treasure, manie persons of both sexes flocked thither, and among the rest two poore creatures (whose sinewes were soe shrunk, and contracted that with great difficultie they were able to creepe a­long the ground vppon their hands, and thighs) came to pray vnto Two Crip­ples cured at his bo­die. allmightie God, and S. EDWARD, for the recouerie of their limmes: and drawing neere vnto the holie biere, the bearers thereof stayed, to giue them licence to touch it and doe reuerence vnto it; when on a sudden, to the great admiration of that infinitie of beholders, they were both restored to perfect health, and receaued a full cure and recouerie of their long vnseruiceable limmes. Great was then the ioyfull acclamations of the poeple, that highly extol­led the meritts and prayses of S. EDWARD, till the newes and noyse of these miracles came to the eares of the Queene his murdresse, who thereby touched to the heart with a sudden compunction and sorrow for her wickednes committed, presently mounted on horse­back and beganne her iourney towards the sacred bodie, with intē ­tion to begge pardon for her offence. But her suddaine hast receaued as suddaine a stopp by the way, for her horse, that at other times was Behould à strainge miracle. wōt to runne away with his loade as swiftly as the wind, by the beck of the diuine prouidēce stood stock still, whilst her seruants earnest­prouoked the vnwilling beast with sharpe whippes, & threatning cries, but all in vaine, for he seemed most vnsensible of both. She blaming her horse as being tired, caused a fresh one to be prouided, which in like manner refused to carrie the authour of soe foule a murder. Till at length her brutish heart vnderstood what this vnusuall accident might portend, and therefore by the meanes of a [Page 162] third person she performed this intended visitation, which her owne vn worthines could not personally effect.

IV. The holy bodie being brought to Shaftsburie, which was the place destined to be the sacristie of soe rich a treasure, it was recea­ued by those holy virgins of CHRIST in most honourable, and sta­tely manner, and reuerently entombed on the north side of the high His bodie is eushri­ned at Shaftsbu­rie. aultar the eighteenth day of February. And afterwards, by reason of the manie miracles wrought at this holy martyrs tombe, that monasterie was commonly called S. Edwards. And the miracles wrought there, were such, soe great, and soe authenticall esteemed by King Ethelred, that in respect thereof he adorned the monasterie of Shaftsbury with manie rich guifts and possessions, and in the dona­tion thereof, made in the yeare 1001. he acknowledgeth Gods scourging of his Countrey by the Danes to haue befalne them for the vniust murder of King EDWARD: whom, togeather with the bishops and Abbots of that time he honoureth with the title of Blessed martyr. Part of his reliques were afterwards brought to enri­che the monasterie of Lemster in Herefordshire. This historie we haue ga­thered out of the author of his life in an aunciët manuscript recited by Surius tom. 3. William Malmesbury de reg. Ang. lib. 2. cap. 9. Iohn Capgraue in his legend. Nicholas Harpsfield saec. 10. cap. 4. and other English Historio­graphers, who doe all largely speake his prayses.

The life of S. VLFRICK Confessor, and Hermite.
FEBR. 20

THE worthie champion, and braue follower of a monasticall, and solitarie life S. Vlfrick, was borne in a village called Lenton, or Litton, eight miles from Bristoll, of a meane, yet an honest paren­tage. In the same place he was bred, and brought vpp till he came to such age, and learning, that he was made priest. Which office he ex­ercised His māner of life in his youth. for some yeares space, hauing (as it was thought) receaued it in the feruour of his youth, more out of a youthfull leuitie incident to that age, then anie way guided by the raynes of true reason. For as yet being not well acquainted with the true spirituall knowledge of allmightie God, he was ruled more by the impetuous [Page 163] motions of wordly pleasures, and delights, then by the inward inspi­ration of the soule. Whece it came to passe that he stuck not to staine his priestly function, by dayly imploying of him self in the gentle­mans slauerie of keeping hawkes, and Doggs, and following the toilesome sports those dumb beasts could allow him, when he had better, and more befitting his calling, been quietly busied in studie, and contemplation. But being on a time in hott pursuite of this A poore man fore­telleth him of his fu­ture life. kind of a game, he mett by chance with a man that bore the habitt, and countenance of a poore begger, who verie humbly demaunded for an almes a piece of new money, which as yet, by reason of the newnes of the coyne comming out of the mint of Henry the first, was not verie common in England. Therefore VLFRICK answeared him, that he knew not whether he had anie of that Kind or noe. Looke in thy purse (replied the other) and there thou shalt find two pence halfpēnie. VLFRICK being amazed at this answeare, opened his purse and finding as the poore man had sayd, he deuoutly gaue him what he asked. Who receauing his pennie; let him reward thee (said he) for whose loue thou giuest it. And I in his name declare vnto thee, that shortly thou shalt depart from this place where now thou liuest, vnto an other dwelling, & thēce againe to another, where thou shalt, find a quiet habitatiō, till after lōg perseuerāce in the seruice of god, thou art called to enioy the ioyfull societie of the saincts in heauen.

II. VLFRICK therefore after a while, liued like a poore Priest in He abstay­neth from flesh. the house of one VVilliam Lord of the village where he was borne, & had his diet dayly at his table, where he layd the first foundation of a new life, and entred into a perpetuall abstinence, from flesh. Till at length, his good purposes, and deuotion still encreasing, he was greatly taken with an earnest desire to embrace an eremiticall, and solitarie life, and to that end the foresayd Lord, doubtlesse not without the particular inspiratiō of the holy Ghost, sent him to a vil­lage called Hasleburrow in Dorsetshire, distant eastward from Excester His auste­ritie of life about thirtie miles. There in a little cell neere adioyning vnto the Church, setting aside all thoughts sauouring of the world, with great austeritie, and mortification of his bodie, he purchased the grace, and fauour of IESVS CHRIST to his soule. For with such an exact and seuere an obseruance of abstinence, fasting, and watching he mor­tified his bodie vppon earth, that the skinne only sticking vnto [Page 164] the bones, he appeared vnto the behoulders as the true picture not of a carnall, but of a spirituall man, in a humaine shape. His daintiest His poore diet, and cloathing. meate was oaten bread and a kind of gruell, or pottage made of oatmeale. He neuer dranke wine or anie other drinkes which cause dronkennes, but only on principall feastes, and then he would tast a little, more for the solemnitie of the feast, then anie contentment of bodie. In watching he was soe diligent, and vnwearied, that he passed manie nights without anie sleepe, nether would he euer giue himself to anie rest but when extreme necessitie, and weaknes of nature cō ­pelled him: and then not in bed, but leaning his head to a wall, he tooke a short allowance of sleepe, out of which presently rowsing him self, he would much blame, & chastise his bodie, as yielding vn­to ouermuch nicenesse. His pillow (yf that may be called so) which he vsed to putt vnder his head was made of rowles, or ropes of hay wound vp together. He was content with poore simple cloathing, li­ned next to the skinne with a rude shirt of hayre-cloath. Till after a while, being growne from a freshman to be an old beaten souldier of Christ, insteed of his hayre-cloath, he wore next vnto his skinne, an iron coate of maile, which his old lord, and master, vnderstanding his desire thereof, had sent vnto him, consecrating that warlick armour His morti­fication of bodie. to the warrefarre of heauen. To these his dayly austerities, he added others by night, farre exceeding them in rigour, for in the sharpest cold of winter, he was wont, hauing first putt of his iron coate, to entier naked into a vessell of cold mater, where he would remayne reciting psalmes & himnes in prayse of allmightie God, vntill he had throughly mortified and quēched those dishonest fiers, & importune motions of the flesh, which verie furiously and often assayling his mind, sought the ruine of his chastitie: but his breast was a firme rock of pure marble that vtterly denied entertaynment to anie such vn­cleannes. And in all this rigour soe vnmercifully exercised vppon him self, both in discourse and behauiour, he was euer humble, and pleasant vnto all others, and allthough he seldom or neuer spake to anie man, but vnseene, and with his window shutt, yet his sweete speeches yeelded the sound of a kind of heauenly harmonie to the eares of his hearers. The fame of his san­cti [...]ie is discouered

III. WHILEST thus the holie man exercised him self in the dis­cipline of a rigid-deuout life, knowne only to the allseeing [Page 165] deitie, he brake forth at length to the knowledge of the world, like a fayre morning of good health, and happines vnto his coun­trey. For his coate of maile hanging downe somwhat below his knees, with the rudenes thereof hindered him to kneele at such times and soe often as he desired: whereof hauing admonished the knight his old master, who was only priuie to this secret, he de­maunded his counsell therein. The knight would haue persuaded him to send it to London to be cutt according to his desire: But he being impatient of such delay, and fearing thereby to lay open a gate to vaine gloire gaue him a payre of sheares, and bad him in the name of God dispatch that worke with his owne hands. The knight staggering in his obedience, and iudging it to be dotage in the holy man that sett him on a taske (as he thought) quite im­possible, knew not what to say. Be constant (replied VLFRICK) and feare nothing, behold I goe to recommend this busines vnto God, in the meane time endeauour confidently to finish this worke. The one falls to his prayers, the other endeauours with iron and steele to cutt iron, and steele: when both their labours tooke prosperous effect, to the admiration of the one, & great ioy of the other. For the knight Note a strainge miracle. in his cutting worke seemed rather to diuide a peece of cloath, then a peece of irō, with soe great facilitie the sheares ranne through that steelie garment. But the holy man rising from his prayers before the worke was finished, the knight was forced to hould his hands; when VLFRICK coming to the window where he laboured, & asking how he had succeeded in his busines; Well, and prosperously (sayd he) hi­therūto, but now at thy cōming, the sheeres turne edge, & are at a stay. Be not mooued thereat (replied the sainct) but with the same sheeres, finish thy work soe happily begun. Then resuming his former cōfi­dence, with the like facilitie he went through the rest. And from that time, the holy mā in the strength of his owne fayth, without anie shee­res, pulled asunder the little rings of that part of his coate cutt off, & distributed thē charitably to all that desired, by vertue whereof ma­nie The par­cels of his coate cure manie di­seases. diseases were cured, according as it is recorded of the chaines of the holie Apostles, PETER, and PAVL and manie other Martirs. But the Knight much amazed at soe great vertue, sell prostrate, at the ho­ly mans feet, whereat greatly cōfounded he lifted him vp, coniuring him not to reueale that miracle as lōg as he liued. But the fame there­of [Page 166] grew soe famous; that it could not be hidden, when manie reli­gious, & deuout persons were glad to enioy a ring of his iron coate, whereby the glorie and sweet odour of his sainctitie was blowne ouer all parts of the Kingdom.

IV. WHILST our worthie champion of CHRIST thus noblie The deuils rayse war­re against him. fortified his mind with the armour of a generous vertue & shewed soe great confidence in allmightie God, and such incomparable ri­gour in chastising and afflicting his owne bodie, and beating downe the dishonest rebellions thereof, the common plotter, and worker of all mischief to mankind, greatly enuieing such rare goodnes, as­sayled him on all sides with wonderfull troubles, rude vexations, and allmost mortall torments, not inferiour to those raysed against S. HILLARION S. ATHONIE, and other auncient Hermites, to bat­ter, and beate downe the constancie of his vertuous mind and re­solution. Once those infernall spiritts appearing visibly in most horrid shapes, with violence dragged him into the Church, and round about the pauement thereof in great furie, till by the vnex­pected comming of a most reuerend Virgin, he was relieued out of the hands of those hell-hounds, whom she chased suddenly away. He vnderstood afterwards that this was a holy Virgin, of whom he [...] had made a commemoration in his Masse the same day. An other time the holy man being sick, his ordinarie enemie entred into the roome where he lay, and casting a terrible looke vppon him, with a staffe he had in his hand gaue him three great blowes on the head, and departed. And further it pleased allmightie God to giue the Deuil soe great power ouer his bodie, that like an other Iob, he in­fected his flesh with such horrid vlcers, that his armes, quite vpp to the shoulders, became a loathesom spectacle, rotten, and full of vgly His won­derfull pa­tience wormes, and corruption. All which as visitations sent from God, he endured with infinite great pacience, and ioy, euer yielding hum­ble thankes vnto his diuine goodnes, that gaue him soe fayre an oc­casion of meritt in this world. He was noe sooner recouered of this strainge maladie, but the same engine of mischief cast his bo­die into such an intolerable, but inuisible heate of fier, in soe much that he called for a Priest, and beganne to recommend his soule vnto his creatour, till after a while, that hellish tormenter chainged that intollerable heate, into a contrarie cold soe insufferable, that euerie [Page 167] minute he expected with patience the disuniting of his soule from He ouer­cometh the vexa­tions of the deuil. his bodie. But he triumphed ouer all these hellish afflictions, and diabollicall temptations, in the approoued armour of an vndaun­ted patience of minde, and made all these occasions but stepps to clime the height of vertue, and perfection by.

V. ONE Easter eue at night, the hellish spiritt of vncleanes hauing cast the holy man into a deepe sleepe, by a filthie dreame, and illu­sion, allbeit in a bodie drie, and half dead, triumphed ouer the frailtie of his flesh, and caused him to suffer some such vncleannes, as the weakenes of mans nature is subiect vnto in those occasions: where vppon he became soe ouerthrowne with grief, and sorrow of See a won­derfull example of humilitie. mind, that he pined away at his disastrous chaunce. And on the morrow morning being Easter day, he went into the Church, where publickly before all the poeple present at that holy solemnitie, he made open confession of what had befalne him, and burst out into a miserable complaint of his mischaunce. And woe be vnto me wretched VLFRICK, (sayd he) whom mine enemies, in reuenge of my sinnes, haue this sacred night soe filthyly disgraced, soe vnhap­pily deluded, and soe vilely euerthrowne. I confesse my offence vnto God, and to you all, desiring, and hoping to obtaine pardon from his diuine goodnes, by your good prayers, and intercession. Hauing in these and such like words proclaymed his misfortune, he returned sorrowfull to his cell. Which his wonderfull deiection, and humilitie of mind, wherein he nether spared his owne shame­fastnes, nor the diminishing of that renowned opinion of sainctitie, which be had gotten in the world, nor despised others in respect of such vertue, seemeth by manie degrees to excell both the wonder of his coate of maile, and whatsoeuer else in him (as truely there are very manie things worthy greate prayse, and admiration) was most notable, and famous, And as allmightie God sent him these sharpe visitations to make triall of his constancie, soe on the other side his diuine goodnes did soe highly confort him with heauenly benefitts, guifts, and graces of prophefieing, and doeing manie won­derfull cures, and ennobled his worthie patience with such re­nowned triumphes against his infernall enemies, that he might truely Psal. 9 3. 19 with the royall prophet say of him self: According to the multitude of my griefs, thy consolations haue reioyced my soule.

[Page 168] VI. FOR HE chainged water into wine; and by his holy benedi­ction he encreased and multiplied one little loafe of bread to soe His manie miracles. great a quātitie, that he satisfied fortie poore poeple there with. The water which he hallowed cured verie manie dangerous diseases. He restored light, and perfect sight vnto one whose eyes were dig­ged out of his head. He saw manie thinges that were done in farre distant places, as distinctly as if they had passed within the cōmaund of his corporall sight. And often times he foretould things to come, and namely to King Henry the first, setting forth in his last iourney to Normandie, that he should neuer more returne. And in the Kings absence he reuealed vnto the Lord of the village the verie day of the kings death. And count Stephen coming vppon a time vnto the ho­ly man, he saluted him as king, to the great admiration of all that heard it; and ingenuously tould him that he should be souueraigne Lord of England, giuing him pious admonitions carefully to main­taine peace, and iustice, and defend the rightes of Gods Church.

VII. WHAT now shall I say, that the holie Angels, yea and the king of angels CHRIST IESVS haue appeared vnto him, and comfor­ted his habitation in this world with the heauenly and vnspeakeable splendour of their presence. And being on a time at the aultar exe­cuting that dreadfull sacrifice of Masse, hauing past the Pater noster, The wine in his cha­lice appea­reth in forme of bloud. being suddenly stricken with a doubt whether he had mingled (as the custom is) water with his wine, or not, & hauing defired allmigh­tie God to free him from that scruple; behould the chalice appeared vnto him full to the very brimme of fresh rosie bloud, which the vnspotted lambe, shed for our redemption: and returning straight againe to the forme of wine he deuoutly consummated, that heauenly draught. And allbeit sometimes by the permission of allmightie God, to trie his seruant, he was (as we haue sayd) cruelly deluded, vexed, and tormented by the mischieuous enuie of hells inhabitans, yet manie times he triumphed most nobly ouer them and their diabolicall practises: When by his holy prayers he not only banished them out of the bodies of possessed persons, but sometimes held them soe fast bound, that they could not depart but by his licence. But of all that euer he did in that kind, this which A poore ma giueth his soule to the de­uill. now you shall heare was the most notably famous.

VIII. IN THE North parts of England dwelt a mise rably-wretched [Page 169] man, who not able to endure the pouertie of his owne fortune, had renounced the Christian Catholick fayth, and in a horrid couenant had wholely cōsecrated, and bequeathed him self to the Deuill: who hauing for a time sate abroode vppō that prey, to hatch his soule for hell fier, the wretched man coming a little to vnderstand his more then miserable estate, beganne to be ashamed, and repent him of this horrible act, deliberating, & debating with him self, to what Patrone, or protection he should committ the care of deliuering his engaged soule out of the iawes of eternall death. Till at length hauing heard the great fame of S. VLFRICKS holy life, he resolued to make vse of his counsell in this weightie affayre: and being verie sollicitous of his good successe herein, and hauing opened his mind to one of his neerest, and dearest friends, the deuil with whom he had made this hard bargaine, appeared to him in his knowne, and accusto­med shape, and with shew of extreme vnkindnes, accused him of disloyaltie, and threatned him with most cruell punishment yf he dared but to attempt anie such treason againe. The poore man, The deuill knoweth not the se­crets of mans heart perceauing that this hellish marchant had noe knowledge of the in­tentions of his heart, till by word of mouth he had reuealed them vnto his friend frō that time kept close his good purposes vnder the vayle of silence, and meaning (as the prouerb saies) to cozen the old (ourtier he) dissembled for a while his intended penance; till at length, when he thought his enemie sleeped, he entred into his iour­ney towards S. VLFRICK, wherein he had prosperous successe, till he came neere vnto the Village of Haslebury, where entring the foord of the riuer that ranne thereby, with great hope to receaue help from the holy man, his ancient enemie the deuill suddenly layd violent hands vppon him bellowing in his eares with a hellish, furie and anger, such rude and rough speeches, that struck terrour into the poore man: O thou traytour, (sayd he) what meanest thou to doe? In vaine thou endeauourest to breake off our for­mer bargaine, for as well for they first treason in reuouncing God, as now for seeking to renounce me, to whom thou belongest, thou shalt presently suffer a iust punishment in this water. And withall he held him soe fast in the midest of the riuer, that he could nether stirre forward nor backward. In the meane time S. VLFRICK, who had a reuelation of all this passage, called his [Page 170] Priest vnto him, and bad him presently take the crosse and holy The vertue of holy wa­er. water in his hands, and make great hast to succour a poore man whom the deuill held captiue in the riuer at the townes end. Who speedyly obeying his commaund, ranne thither, and found, (as the holy man had foretould,) a man sitting an horseback in the middest of the riuer not able to mooue, on whom presently in the name of IESVS CHRIST, and in vertue of his master hauing cast some of his holy water, he redeemed the prey, and patt the t [...]eefe to flight. This done he returned with ioy to S. VLFRICK togeather with the poore man, whose cōpanie the deuill being verie vnwilling to loose, followed after his late prey, and seeing him stand before the holy man, he sayd fast hould on him, who cried maynly out, to the ser­uāt of god for succour. Thē S. VIFRICK taking him by the right hād, He freeth one giuen to the de­uill. the deuill was soe bold as to shake him by the left, striuing as much as he was able to drawe him away with him, till the Sainct thro­wing with his other hād some of the holy water, which him self had blest against that vgly fiend, he droue him away from the house with greate confusion. And then leading the poore man, newly re­deemed out of the iawes of death, quaking, and trēbling with feare into his inner cell, he disposed his soule with good instructions for Auricular con [...]ession. the better receauing of the sacrament of peanance. Which done, the poore man falling downe on his knees before the holy Sainct, pro­claimed him selfe guiltie at the sacred barre of confession, by which he clearly purged his conscience from all the infectious venō which the deuill had planted therein, and hauing receaued his absolution pronounced by the mouth of S. VLFRICK, he desired likewise, to communicate the blessed sacrament of the Aultar at his hands. Who houlding that dreadfull misterie before his face at the Altar, de­manded yf he did truly, & sincerely beleeue the bodie of CHRIST to be really vnder that forme of bread. I doe beleeue, & confesse it (sayd he) for, (wretched sinner that I am) I see the bodie of my lord IESVS in thy hands, in the true forme of flesh. God be for euer praysed, (re­plied Behould the [...]eall presence in the sacra­ment. the holy man:) and presently at his prayers the sacred Eu­charist returning to the vsuall forme of bread, he gaue it the poore man, who from this time forwards was euer free, from the bur­then of that diabolicall yoake and from all trouble, and vexation of those hellish monsters.

[Page 171] IX. A PIOVS woeman on a time sent three loaues of bread vnto S. VLFRICK, by a messenger, who hid one by the way, and deliue­red Note a rare mira­cle. the other two only; but goeing back, he found his loafe to be chainged into a stone soe hard, that his iron and steele turned edge as he endeauoured to cutt it asunder. But that hardnes melted his heart with sorrow, for returning in great hast to S. VLFRICK, he discoured this strainge accident, humbly desiring pardon of his te­merarious offence. Who not only forgaue him, but making the signe of the crosse vppon that stonnie bread, he brake it with great facilitie, and giuing part thereof vnto the messenger, sent him away greatly edified to haue seene such vertue.

X. A GREAT noble man of king Henries court hauing heard of the A Noble­man puni­shed by God for detracting S. Vlfrik. fame of S. VLFRICK, sayd that the King might doe well to send some officers to the Cell of that craftie seducer, to take away his money, whereof he could not but haue great store such a mightie concurse of poeple dayly flocked vnto him. These words were noe sooner spoken, but by his diuine power who is euer zelous in behalf of his saincts, the mouth of that rash man was writhen and stretcht to his eares, and he him self dashed violently against the ground, where he lay for a time sprawling, and foaming in miserie. The king vppon this occasion, went to the holy mans poore habi­tation, and carefully recōmending him self vnto his deuout prayers, earnestly petitioned withall for the noble man. I impute not this sinne vnto him (replied the Saint) but doe heartily desire that he may haue pardon at the hands of allmightie God, being my self, in the meane time, most readie to doe whatsoeuer is conuenient for me. And at the same instant, one of the standers by tooke the holy Saint by the hand, and applying it to the face of a sick person there present, restored him to perfect health with the only touch of those holy fingers.

XI. THIS Blessed Sainct (as you haue heard before) prophesied vnto His guift of prophe­sie. count Stephen, then a priuate mā, that he should be owner of the real­me of England; during whose raigne, manie warlick commotions, & troubles molested the cōmon peace, all which likewise S. VLFRICK foretould, vnto the lord of his village, as allsoe of the captiuitie of the same King, and of his deliuerie. At length, King Stephen coming to his cell on a time, the holy man after manie zealous re­bukes, [Page 172] and profiteable exhortations foretould him among other things, that he should raigne during his life time, admonishing him by all meanes to doe worthie penance for the same, for otherwise he should neuer enioy ether suretie in his Kingdom, or peace from those rude broiles, which to his cost, he had lōg experienced. Where­vppon King Ste­phen con­fesseth to S. Vlfrick. the King, with teares trickling downe his cheekes, witnessed the inward sorrow of his mind, and making a sincere confession of that sinne, willingly performed the penance, which the propheti­call Sainct inioyned him. See the wonderfull force of Gods grace, that giueth power to a poore sillie creature, to make the stubborne hearts of kings to relent, and returne from the wild deserts of ini­quitie to the direct high way of iustice. I can neuer too often re­peate that saying of the prophet; God is wonderfull in his saincts.

XII. ABOVT a yeare before his death, sitting one day in his cell Psal. 67. v. 38. the ioints of his iron coate miraculously dissolued, and it fell downe to his knees, which he presently tooke vpp, and fastened againe about his shoulders with more strong stayes. And his whole bodie, which before seemed to imitate iron in hardnes, beganne to swell with little blisters, and plainly to shew it was but flesh; soe that his coate and his flesh with a like token foreshewed the time of his warrefare in this world to draw neere to an end. Therefore after a while he called his priest vnto him, and tould him that the hower of his departure was at hand, for the next saturday (sayd he) I must pro­uide my self for my last and happiest iourney, which soe long I haue desired. And in the verie hower which he foretould, ioyning and di­recting his hands and eyes towards heauen whither he was goeing, he deliuered vpp his blessed soule out of the thraldom of this world He foretel­leth the time of his death. to the neuer dieing ioyes of heauen: the twentith day of February in the yeare of our Lord 1154. shortly after the coronation of Henry, the second King of that name in England. His life is written by Ioannes Anglicus or Iohn Capgraue, Mathew Paris in Henrico 2. fol. 88. and Ni­cholas Harpsfield saec. 12. cap. 29. out of whom we haue gathered this present historie. Henrie Huntington, and other English Historiographers make ho­norable mention of him.

The life of S. MILBVRG virgin and Abbesse of the holy order of S. BENEDICT.
FEBR. 23 Written by Gotze­line mōke.

ETHELBERT king of Kent, and the first of our English kings that receaued the Christian fayth, was S. MILBVRGS great grandfa­thers father, she was daughter to Merwald king of the Mercians, and his queene Dompne [...]e, by some called Ermenburg. Milburg therefore Her royall pa [...]nts. [Page 174] inheriting the royall splendour of two princely kingdoms, Kent, and Mercia, as the ornament of her byrth, and hauing the prerogatiue of senioritie among her Fathers children, was soe farr from glorying therein that for the only deare loue of allmightie god her creatour, and the pure desire of heauen, she vtterlie contemned those ho­nours which worldlings soe highly admire, and wholely setled, and tied her self with all the thoughts, studies, cares, desires and powers of her soule to find out the best and readiest meanes, to attaine to that kind of vertuous life, in which being free from all broiles, and troubles of the vaine world, she might spend the short time of her mortalitie in the contemplation of allmightie God, and his hea­uenly guifts, and graces; thereby to ennoble the royaltie of her bloud, which the nobilitie of perfection, and vertue. And the better to put these her good thoughts, and purposes in perfect execution, she [...]ged her fath [...] littering, and princely pal­lace for a mona [...]erie; her royal [...] [...]irple for a hayre-cloathe, her princely diadem for a little black vayle, and in summe, insteed of her worldly dowrie, which could not but be exceeding rich and honourable, she made a happie choyse of IESVS­CHRIST to be the only spouse, and spirituall ornament of her soule.

II. ALL this she performed in a monasterie which her self had built She beco­meth a Nunne of S. Bene­dicts order at Wenlock in Shrops [...]ir [...] where at [...] hands of S. THEODORE, a Bene­dictin monk then Archbishop of Canturburie, she receaued the vayle of perpetuall virginttie, and was ranged into the order of Nunnes of S. BENEDICTS or d [...] [...]d [...]er made Abbesse of the virgins that she had gathered togeather in the same place, and vnder the same rule. This monasterie her father, and her vncle, Merwald, and Wulfere both kings of Mercia verie richly adorned afterwards, with large, and ample possessions of lands, manie pretious reliques of Saincts, and diuers other great priuiledges and prerogatiues. And now by reason of that holie societie soe worthyly addicted to the diuine seruice of God; and cheefly for S. MILBVRG her self a mother worthie such a progenie, or for that holie progenie worthie soe good a mother, that sacred place beganne to represent a new kind of little paradise, in which amongst the inhabitants was a ho­lie contention, striuing who should gett the prize in the aduance­ment [Page 175] of true pietie, chastitie, and humilitie, to triumph ouer the vaine delights, fond pleasures, and fading glories of the world.

III. BVT yet S. MILBVRG farre excelled the rest, especial­ly in all humilitie, and demission of mind, preseruing her self, for the spirituall vnion which her heauenly spouse, most chast, pure, and vnspotted in all, and through all her actions. And as a bright A yong man taken with loue of her. sunne to the lesser planets, she gaue light vnto her other sisters, by the rare example of her vertues, to shew them the high way to perfe­ction. In this her holy course of soe great vertues, CHRIST was not wanting to his pious virgin, nether did he only giue her dayly a gre­ater ardour of will, and a fresh supplie of force, to further her pro­gresse in the path of vertue, but allsoe honoured her with famous te­stimonies of his care, and loue towards her, and bestowed by her manie excellent documents to posteritie. Amongst which one, and not the lest was, that being on a time out of her monasterie in a vil­lage called Stokes, a yong gallant sonne to a prince of that countrey, was soe taken with her beautie, that he had a vehement desire to carrie her away by force, and marrie her. And hauing gathered a band of men togeather to putt his wicked thoughts in execution, he endeauoured to make the holy virgin his prey, but she, that had in­telligence hereof by reuelation from her heauenly spouse, presently with her companie betooke her self to flight; when the rash yong mā fiercer then anie wolf, followed the pure lambe of CHRIST, till com­ing to a little shallow brooke called Corse (through which the Virgin with her companie had easily waded) his furie receaued a stopp; for the water (as it were displeased at soe bad an enterprise) suddenly She it mi­raculously preserued. swelled vp, and filling his bankes with angrie streames, seemed to threaten those passengers with destruction. The yong gallant much confounded and astonished herewith, declared, by his cessing to persecute the holy virgin anie further, that the flames of his vnchast affection were vtterly quenched with the sudden inundation of that coole water. In like manner as the water, the fowles, which we call Wild-geese, did obey the will, and commaundement of S. MILBVRG; for when those crea­tures The fowle [...] of the ayre obey her. made greate spoile, and hauock in the corne fields neere vnto her monasterie, the holy Virgin full of fayth (which as [Page 176] our sauiour sayth (can remooue mountaines) commaunded them presently to be gone, and chardged that nether they, nor anie other of the same kind, should euer dare to trespasse those fields anie more. To whom, a Syf they had been capable of reason, the birds forth with obeyed, & neuer more endomaged those places: & this miracle lasted not only during her life, but allsoe to our later ages, as it is recorded both by the testimonie of the inhabitants thereabouts, & manie an­cient writers. Whereby you may see how it pleased the diuine good­nes to shew a miraculous fauour in our England to this his blessed Virgin, like vnto that, which in times past he shewed to S. ANTHONH the Hermite, when he gaue him power and commaund ouer the wild boares in the desert.

IV. MANIE other wonderfull workes are related of this holy Vir­gin, which the breuitie of this discourse will not permitt vs to re­hearse, of which these are that she restored sight vnto a blind man, & life vnto the dead sonne of a poore widdow. Which deedes, as in thē selues they are verie great, soe in respect of those other benefitts, and graces (wherein by her pious exhortations, and holy example of life, she restored vnto manie desperate persons the heauenly light of the soule, which they had lost, and life euerlasting whereof their sinfull actions, and vnworthines had depriued them,) they seeme to bee of farre lesse accompt; in as much as the spirituall light and death of the Soule, doth excell the mortall light, and death of the Bo­die.

V Now this holie spouse of IESVS CHRIST S. MILBVRG hauing made soe worthie a progresse in all kind of goodnes, and vertue that Her speech to her Nuns be­fore death euen in the winter of her old age, the sweete flowers of her good workes euer florishing and encreasing more, and more in per­fection, she became to desire & aspire vnto nothing more, then by the end of her labours in this world to attaine to the ioyfull fruition, and presence of the only deare spouse of her soule, who through the burning and purging affliction of a long and teadious feauer, called her at length vnto him. But during the time of this her last sicknes, hauing gathered her Nunnes about her, with great deuotion she re­cōmended that holy societie to the protection of the diuine goodnes and the B. Virgin MARIE, earnestly desiring them to make choise of such a gouernesse after her death, whom they iudged for true pietie [Page 177] and religion, to be the fittest among them to vndergoe that charge FEB. 25. and withall exhorting thē chiefly to preserue, true peace, & purenes of heart, she often repeated the words of CHRIST her spouse vnto thē: Blessed (sayd she) are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the children of God. Blessed are the cleane of heart for they shall see God. Hauing giuen thē Matt. 5. v. 8. 9. these, and such like pious admonitions and religiously armed her self, and her death with the holy sacramēts, she happyly yeelded vpp her vnstayned soule to enioy an euerlasting kingdom, with her sa­cred spouse in heauen aboue, for whose sake she had contemned the kingdom, and pompe of this lower world: she died the three & twen­tith day of February, and was buried in her monasterie of Wenlock. Who, as she is by a pious certaintie thought gloriously to raigne with her deare spouse IESVS, soe, lest perchance anie small cloud of Her happie death. mistrust might darken that pious beleef, all mightie God him self hath shewed manie cleere testimonies of his loue to his holie spouse, able to conuince the most incredulous. When manie ages after the death of this holy Virgin, in the yeare of our lord 1101. and the raigne of Henry the first, her holy bodie was discouered, and brought out of the ruines of obliuion, to the open view, and veneration of the world. It happened in this manner.

VI. THE monasterie of Wenlock being destroyed afterwards by the violence of Englands sauage, and barbarous enemies, the holy virgins bodie lay for a long time hidden amongst those ruines, till by the mnnificence of Roger Earle of Mountgomerie it was reedified, and turned to a Priorie of Benedictine Monks of the Congregation of Cluny, about the yeare aforesayd, when by the speciall proui­dence of allmightie God, S. MILBVRGS bodie came to light, vppon this occasion.

VII. A workeman called Raymund being at work in the monaste­rie The mira­culous in­uention of her bodie. of the holie Trinitie, he happened to find an old chest, or Box, in which was contayned a writing written by one Alstan a Priest, which testified that the bodie of the holy Virgin lay buried there, neere vnto the aultar. But noe remnant of the aultar appearing, was cause that yet there was noe certaintie of anie thing. Till he that go­uerns all things with certaintie, soone after tooke away all this vncertaintie, for as two children plaied togeather vppon the pauement of that Church, suddenly the earth opened; and they [Page 178] both sunk in vpp to the knees. This accident being a cause of great admiration amongst the Monkes, gaue them occasion to haue the earth digged vpp deeper in that place, by which meanes they found some bones, which sent forth a wonderfull sweet sauour ouer all the Church, and the next day after, they lighted on the foundation of the aultar spoken off before. To the greater creditt Miracles wrought by her re­liques & euidence hereof, and more cleere manifesting of the glorie of God, and his holy spouse S. MILBVRG, manie other verie worthie, and notable testimonies concurred. For by the only touch of those sacred reliques, but then new raked out of earth, and dust, two woemen were cured of most horrid leaprosies, an other was restored to her sight lost, and a boy that neuer saw light before, receaued perfect power to distinguish of colours. In summe, such and soe famous where the miracles which God allwaies wonderfull in his saincts, whrought there by the merits of this glorious Virgin, that whole inundations of poeple flo­cked thither in such troupes, as the open fields thereabouts were scarse sufficient to receaue them: where rich, and poore were in equall contention to obey the guide, and conduct of their pious fayth. Nether was the labour of their pietie spent in vaine, for none returned without comfort, sick persons recea­uing a perfect recouerie of health, and a cure of manie such mortall diseases, which had giuen the foyle to phisitians, and their skill had left in desperation. Of which one, and not the lest was, that a woeman dwelling in the village hard by called Patton, ha­uing, for the space of fiue yeares, been cruelly tormented with a verie desperate disease incureable by phisick, dranke only of the water, wherein the holy virgins reliques had been washed, and presently she shaked of her teadious sicknes, and withall disburdened her stomack of a filthie worme, vgly, and horrible to behould, hauing six feete, two hornes on his head, and two on his tayle. The woeman being freed of this monstruous guest, had the happines of her perfect health restored, and in testi­monie, Note a strainge miracle. and memorie of the fact, that worme was shutt vp in a hollow peece of wood, and reserued afterwards in the Mo­nasterie, as a trophie, and monument of S. MILBVRG, vntill by the lasciuious furie of him that destroyed all goodnes in En­gland, [Page 179] that, with other religious houses, and monasteries, went to ruine, that whereas before our fruitfull Ile, for true reli­gion, pietie, continencie, and other vertues, was the miracle of the world, soe now for atheisme, heresie, and manie other vices it yeelds to no other realme in Christendom. The life of this holy Virgin S. MILBVRG is written by Ioannes Anglicus recited by Iohn Capgraue, and Nicholas Harpsfield out of whom we haue ga­thered it. But of the inmention of her bodie, and miracles thereat, we haue taken chiefely out of Ato Bishop, and Cardinal of Ostia who writt the miracles that happened after her inmention, and William Malmes­burie, de Pont. Angl. lib. 4. & de gest. reg. Angl. l [...]. 2. cap. 15. The Roman Martyrologe, Camden in descriptione com. Salopiae Polido­re Virgil lib. 4. de regno Merciorum, Vincentius Lirinensis, in speculo lib. 25. cap. 33. Mathew Westminster anno 676. Floren­tius Wigorniensis anno 675. and manie others make ample mention of her.

The life of S. ETHELBERT King, and Confessor.
FEB. 24 Out of Venera­ble Bede de gest. Angl.

THE diuine wisedom, whose allmightie power only, is able to produce light out of the middest of dar­kenes, and good out of euill, during the raigne of ETHELBERT fift king of Kent, voutchafed to sett Ethelbert the first Christian King of England. a period to the diabolicall rites of Idolatrie in England, and called ETHELBERT out of a race of Pagan An­cestors to be the first English king that sound the true Chri­stian way to the kingdom of heauen. And whatsoeuer gaine of soules our holy Apostle S. AVGVSTIN the Benedi­ctine monke, and his Euangelicall brethren reaped in the spirituall haruest, and vineyard of our lord (excepting all­waies the premotion and preuention of Gods grace) is who­lly due vnto holy King ETHELBERT. For in as much [Page 180] as it lay in humane power, vnlesse his royall graunt, and assi­stance had stood with those diuine labourers, nether the til­ling not fruict of true saluation had then arriued to our En­glish His royall curtesie. land. He, being as yet incredulous, receaued CHRIST in his legats, commended the messengers of eternall happines whom yet he mistrusted, harboured those strange guests in his eittie of Doner, whom he knew not, and at first gaue them a dwelling with necessarie sustenance for a time which afterwards he confirmed for euer vnto them, whose profession of fayth and religion he did not yet admitt off. He did not abhorre the strangenes of their habitt, nor manners, he did not repell them as straingers, nor contemne them as humble, and deiected persons, nor condemne them as men that vtterly con­demned the follie of his gods, and auncient lawes, but out of the sweet meekenes of a royall mind, fauoured their sacred la­bours, and with a clement patience, suffered them to conuert whom they could to their fayth, shewing himself allwayes courteous to Christians, being yet but a Heathen. Till at length hauing himself receaued the Christian fayth, and washed away the filth of Idolatrie in the sacred font of baptisme, he confir­med with his royall authoritie whatsoeuer S. AVGVSTIN and his fellowes preached, and what they Apostolically plan­ted, he royally encreased, sweetly drawing and winning his sub­iects His zeale in promo­ting the Christian fayth. to abandon their Idolatrie, and embrace the Christian religion with his pious exhortations, and promises of eternall happines without anie force, or compulsion, and ranging them vnder the banner of the holy warrefarre of CHRIST as troupes of Voluntaries and not pressed souldiers. He allsoe encouraged other Princes, who were ether his subiects, or colleagues, with all curtesie and mildnes to the fayth of CHRIST, heartyly louing all true belee­uers as his brethren, kinsmen, and fellow-citezins of the King­dom of heauen; soe that in a short time, his holy endeauours too­ke soe good effect, that the honour, and worship of the true God florished ouer all his Kingdom, manie Churches were erected, the temples, and aultars of Idolls were destroyed, or consecrated for the vse of diuine seruice.

II. IN THE meane time the holy Pope S. GREGORIE, with wonder­full [Page 181] affection did congratulate this good Kings pietie, encouraging him with the sweete lines of his Epistles, as soe manie heauenly sa­lutations, to proceede in his Christian zeale, inciting him to embrace true pietie and vertue, and stirring him vp, by the example of Constantine the great, to aspire to the vnspeakeable reward of those who striue to enlarge, and amplifie the Kingdom of IESVS CHRIST. Mooued herewith, and the labour of S. AVGVSTIN, and the pro­pension of his owne pietie inclining him therevnto, he built a goo­dly Church in Canturbury, in honour of our Sauiour, commonly called Christ Church, and without the walles of the same towne, he He buil­deth Chur­ches. erected a monastery in honour of S. PETER, and PAVL called after­wards S. AVGVSTINS, to be a place for his owne buriall, and of his successor-Kings of Kent, and the Archbishops of Canturbury. Both these places were furnished with Benedictine monks, the first Conuerters of England from Idolatrie, to Christianitie. S. PAVLS Church in London was allsoe the worke of this worthie King, where MELLITVS a Benedictin monk was first Bishop. He allsoe founded the Cathedrall Church of Rochester, and dedicated it to the honour of S. ANDREW the Apostle. He is likewise reported by antiqui­tie to haue been the Authour of the monasterie of Elie for Benedictin Nunnes, allbeit S. ETHELDRED a nunne of the same order, did ree­difie it afterwards, and restore it after long desolation to the former state, and glorie. All these monasteries, Churches, and bishops seas this pious king not only built, but enriched with manie large possesi­ons of lands, guifts, and ornaments; omitting nothing which did anie way tend to the propagation, & aduanoement of true Christian religion.

III. BVT amidst all these good workes, and all the glorie of his Princely diadem, seeptre, and large commaund of his Kingdom ex­tending His great pietie, and humilitie it self to the riuer Humber in Yorkshire, he soe honoured Chri­stian pouertie in the magnificence of his royaltie, that in possessing all things he seemed to enioy nothing, only making vse of his great­nes, thereby the better to exercise and dilate his goodnes. A most glorious sight it was to see, or rather to admire him that held a sceptre ouer soe large a dominion carefully to serue the poore; to behould him that terrified Kings, and Princes of the earth to feare the humble Priests of CHRIST IESVS, and to see the ruler of the poeple [Page 182] to obey the clergie and reuerence the lest, and lowest, members of his holie flock. In summe, in repressing of vice, aduancing of vertue, fulfilling the commaundments of God, and in exercising all manner of workes of pietie and deuotion, he excelled beyond the power of weake words to expresse. At length when he had raygned ouer his poeple in all sainctitie of life the space of one and twentie yeares af­ter his conuersion, he left his temporall Kingdom, and gaue vp his blessed soule to enioy the neuer dyeing happines of the Kingdom of heauen; the foure and twentith day of February in the yeare of our Lord 616. All antiquitie, and the authoritie of auncient Saincts, are vnresistable witnesses of his holie life, for from the time of his death he was numbred in the Catologue of Saincts, and his festiuitie was honorably celebrated in the English Church. The neglect whereof he is reported by an apparition after his death to haue blamed, and caused to be amended.

IV. AMONGST manie other vertues, which doe soe highly sett forth this good King, one was, that as he promoted the Christian re­ligion, His good lawes. soe likewise he established his common wealth with manie excellent lawes, which he published in English, and were of great accompt amongst Englishmen; wherein among other things he had a speciall care to preserue the common good of the Church, commaunding vnder great penalties that none should eyther by theft or anie other meanes alienate, or depriue Gods Church, or the Bishops thereof, of anie thing whatsoeuer that was be­stowed vppon them, and allotted [...]o the diuine seruice. But ô miseriel how directly Contrarie to this our first Christian King are now our moderne kings, whose lawes and endeauours haue and doe tend mainly to the destruction of Churches, abbeyes, and religious he uses, robbing them of their ornaments, and riches dedicated to God seruice, and leauing them to stand with fower bare walls like soe manie emptie barnes, placing in stead of the holy image of CHRIST crucified, the pictures of beares, leopards vnicornes or some such beast houlding [...]p in a scu cheon lions or flower de luces, as the ensignes of their destroiers. O yf our first Christian king the noble E [...]HELBERT liued now, what would he say to see the pious labours of his hāds thus miserably demolisht, his aultars destroyed; his lawes contemned? Veryly he might iustly crie out with the Royall pro­phet. [Page 183] O Lord the Gentils haue entred thy inheritance, they haue polluted thy Psalm. 7 [...]. v. 2. holy temple, They haue cast the dead bodies of thy seruànts for meate to the birds of the ayre, the flesh of thy Saincts to the beasts of the earth. God of his infinite goodnes voutchafe once more to looke with a mercifull eye on this wretched countrey, and deliuer it out of the deluge of sinne and Heresie. The life of S. E [...]HELBET is written by Venerable Bede degest, Ang. lib. 1. Ioannes Anglicus recited by Iohn Capgraue, Nicho­las Harpsfield saec. 7. cap. 4. and other English writers, whom we haue fol­lowed. The Roman Martirologe maketh mention of him this 24. of February.

The life of Sainct WALLBVRG Virgin and Abbesse of the sacred order of S. BENEDICT.
FEB. 25. Writtē by Wolphar dus, a Monke.

SAINCT WALBVRG borne of English parents of a royall race, sister to the two holy Benedictine Monks S. WILLIBALD, and WINE­BALD, was from her tender yeares first trayned vp in England in the exercise of the monasticall discipline of S. B [...]NEDICT, & afterwards, by the appoyntment of that great ornament of the Benedictine order BONIFACE Apostle of Germanie, she was sent for into that countrey She is made Ab­besse in Germanie. of Germanie to plant there the rootes of those holy monasticall ver­tues, which she had gathered in England. And in the monasterie of Heydenbeim which her Brother S. WINEBALD built in the Diocesse of Eistat, S. WALBVRG was made gouernesse, & abbesse of a conuent of nunnes, which charge (S. WIN BALD him self gouerning an other of monkes both of sainct BENEDICTS order) the brother & sister dis­chardged with soe great sainctity, and good example of life, that by their meanes that holy order flori [...]ed wonderfully in those parts, and S. WALBVRG became in soe great fauour with allmightie God, that by the vertue of her prayers she obtained all her desires.

II. ONE night through the negligence and malice of him that A heauen­ly light caused by her prayers. should haue lighted the lāpe in the Church, the conuent of Nuns was left in darknes: wherevppon the holie virgin, being more in paine for them then her self, made her prayer vnto her deare spouse the only true and indeficient Light, and at the same instant, they saw a wonderfull great lustre in all parts of the monasterie which [Page 184] dured till the next morning, to the great ast onishment, and comfort of that chast familie, who togeather with S. WALBVRG gaue humble thankes vnto allmightie God for soe great a remonstrance of his fa­uour, and loue towards them.

III. AN OTHER time she stole priuately out of the monasterie in the euening, not perceaued of anie of her religious woemen, and went to the gate of a verie rich man not farre off where she stood like a poore vnknowne pilgrim, till being brought in by some of the seruants, she made knowne to the man of the house who, and what she was. He admiring how she had passed through the furie of the mad doggs about his house, soe quietly without hurt, enter­tayned her with great ioy, and reuerence; and brought her (as she desired) into the chamber, where at that time, his daughter lay lan­guishing of a cruell disease, expecting euerie instant when her soule would yeeld vp her house of clay, to take her last iourney, when her dolefull parents, despayring of her rerouerie, with teares, and sighs had allreadie prepared for her funerall rites. But the diuine goodnes of him that kills, and reuiues, strikes, and heales againe, A sick woeman cured by her prayers. through the prayers, & intercessions which the holy Virgin S. WAL­BVRG powered out all that night to his infinitie mercie, recalled that dying gyrle, out of the iawes of her threatned death, and restored her againe vnto perfect health, against the next morning. Her pa­rents, seeing this wonderfull miracle, gaue great thankes vnto that heauenly phisitian, and offered manie rich guifts, and presents vn­to the holie Virgin, as an acknowledgment of the great fauour they had receaued by her meanes, but she that long since had forsaken the world, and the vaine wealth thereof for the pure loue of hea­uen, refused to receaue anie worldly fauours for a spirituall, and di­uine benefitt. Therefore returning againe to her monasterie, she followed on the course of her vertuous, and holie life, and the more she perceaued the diuine clemencie to extend it self with grea­ter fauour vnto her, the more she encreased, and aduanced her self in the exercise of religion, and pietie, and shewed more excellent examples of Sainctitie and perfection to her religious subiects, and inferiours.

IV. AT LENGTH this holy Virgin and deare spouse of CHTIST ha­uing passed through the course of a most happy life, and setled her [Page 185] self wholely in the pure loue her creatour, hauing conquered the world, and the desires thereof, strong in fayth, excellent in her Her happie death. behauiour, stored with charitie, beautified with wisedom, enriched with chastetie, grounded with humilitie, and furnished with the or­naments of all vertues, she receaued the embassage of death by the calling of her deare spouse, and departed out of the miserable thral­dom of this world to receaue the euerlasting rewards of her good works in heauen; the fiue & twentith day of February about the yere of our Lord 776. And immediatly after her departure, her dead bodie appeared to manie of the standers by in forme of a creature allreadie glorified, and a wonderfull sweet and fragrant odour iss­ued from that holy vessell of chastity, and filled the whole house. Moreouer, when her bodie was carried into the Church, that hea­uenly light which obeyed her in her life, serued her likewise after her death, and lighted all the candles in the same Church without anie humane helpe, to the glorie of this holy Virgin, and great admi­ration, and comfort of the beholders. She was buried in the same monasterie where she had liued, neere vnto her brother S. WINE­BALD, by the hands of her other brother S. WILLIBALD Bishop, that the same earth might contayne them, whom the like loue of reli­gion, vertue, and pietie, truely made to be brother, and sister. V. HER bodie was afterwards honourably translated to the Bene­dictin monastery at Eistadt. And in the yeare 893. her sacred tombe being againe opened her holy ashes seemed all bedewed with water, which might be pressed out dropp by dropp, and yet not one mite of the dust would stick to their hands that touched it. At this time a great part of her holy reliques, was translated to the monasterie of Benedictine nunnes at Monheim in Germanie; And at both these places, manie rare miracles haue been wrought by the merits of this glo­rious Virgin, which for breuitie we omitt. But one is soe wonder­full, that I cannot passe it ouer in silence. For out of those chast re­liques (sayth Phillipp Bishop of Eistadt the authour of her life) issueth a sacred oyle, which by the grace of God, and the intercession of the blessed S. WALBVRG giues sight to the blind, hearing to the deafe, cureth the lame, and restores the wished recouerie of health to all that deuoutly aske it. The soueraigne vertue whereof (sayth the same Authour) I my self haue experienced: for being ouerthrowne with a [Page 186] greeuous sicknes and arriued at deaths gate, calling to mind the di­uine fauours which S. WALBVRG incessantly shewed to her beloued seruants, I commaunded some of the sacred oyle which flowed from her bodie to be brought, of which at a most desired draught I drāke vp a litle bottle full deuoutly saying these words. O Blessed virgin WAL­BVRG, for reuerence of thy most beloued brother S. WILLIBALD Bishop whose vnworthie successour am I Phillip a sinner, make worthie intercession to our Lord forme according as my sinnes require, & that I may recouer out of the grief One cured with the oyle that floweth frō her bodie. of this my sicknes, to the prayse of allmightie God, and his vnspotted mother the Virgin Marie. This done, to the great admiration of all, I recouered perfectly out of a disease, which had giuen the foyle to all humane art of phisick. Manie other miracles of the same oyle are reported by the authours of her life; & are wrought yet in these daies, at Eistadt where her body lies; to the great confusion of hereticks, the glorie of God, and our holy Father S. BENEDICT, vnder whose rule she ru­led being aliue. The Reuerend Father Iames Gretser hath set forth a booke in the yeare 1620. in which he recites manie famous miracles done at her tombe authentically examined & prooued true, with the testimony of eye-witnesses. Soe that this glorious Virgin like vnto a fruitfull and fayre oliue-tree growing in the fields of Gods Church vnder the happie shade of the Benedictine order, dilateth the name and fame of her sainctitie ouer the world by the effusion of a pretious oyle, which cureth, and healeth all diseases, by the mightie power of him, who hath, and will be wonderfull, & glorious in his Saincts fo [...] euer. Amē. The life of this glorious Virgin is writtē verie largely (& Faythful­ly sayth Baronius) by Wolphardus a monke, and Phillip Bishop of Eystat in Germanie, out of whom we haue gathered this historie. The Roman Mar­tirologe, Baronius tom 9. anno. 735. Trithemius in his worke of the famous men of S. Benedicts order lib. 3. cap. 150. Arnould Wion in his martirologe Molanus in addit ad Vsuardum, Iohn Capgraue, and others make honoura­rable mention of her.

The life of S. MILGITH Virgin, and Nunne of S. BENEDICTS order.
FEB. 26.

MILGITH, or MILVIDE daughter to Merwald king of the Mer­cians and S. ERMENBVAG; and sister to the most holy Virgins MILBVRG and MILDRED, is much commended by our English histo­riographers for her great holines of life in the conseruation, and consecration of her virginitie to CHRIST. But in what monasterie she professed I cannot certainly affirme. Yet some write that she li­ued a Nunne in a monasterie which S. ETHELBERT built in Kent not farre from Canturburie. It is likely that she liued eyther with one of her holy sisters, with S. MILBVRG at Wenloke or with S. MILDRED in the Ile of Tanet in Kent. Certaine it is in whatsoeuer monasterie she liued, that she was a Nun̄ne of S. BENEDICTS order: seeing that noe other rule but his was in those daies receaued in England. Of her and her two sisters Polidore virgill giues this testimonie. These most excellent virgins. (sayth he) partly out of their holines of life, partly out of their seruice Lib. 4. hist. Ang in religion, in which they exercised them selues with continencie, were soūd wor­thie to be by our fathers numbred afterwards among the S [...]cts. This holy Virgin florished [...] the yeare 675. Florentius Wig. Mathew west­minster Ranulphus Cicestrensis and others speake honourably of her vertues.

The life of S. OSWALD Bishop of Worcester confessor of the holy order of S. BENEDICT.
FEB. 28. VVritten by senatus Brano­nius a monks of VVorce­sler.

THE glorious Bishop and ornament of the Benedictin familie S. OSWALD, borne of a most noble English race, and endowed with a verie rare, and beautifull forme of bodie, began from his verie infancie to auoyde all such childish toies, and follies as are [Page 189] incident to that age, and wholely to applie him self to the sacred stu­die, and exercise of true pietie, and religion, thereby to ennoble the nobilitie of his birth, whith the nobilitie of vertue. S. O [...]o Arch­byshop of Canturbury was his vncle, a man of wonderfull wisedom, S. Odo Archoyop of Cant [...]r­bury, his vncle. and discretion, of a graue behauiour, a most iust and vpright mind, and circumspect an all his actions: vnto whom OSWALD was commit­ted by his parents to be trayned vpp in the schoole of learning, good manners, and vertue. Vnder this soe excellent a master, our worthie scholler became soe good a proficient in all profane, and diuine learning, that he was promoted to a Canonrie in the Church of Winchester. Where, when others, not regarding the institute of their order, and calling, let loose the raines to the lewd desires of their minds, he constantly confined him self to the prescript rule of a ca­nonicall life. Soe that within a short space of time he was chosen Deane, in which office, all though as yet he were but yong, yet he zea­lously endeauoured to correct the corrupt manners of the auncient, and to reforme their youthfull mindes to the exercise of a cele­stiall rule and discipline. But they, growne old in their bad customs See how hurtfull a bad custom is. would by noe meanes be recalled to the obedience of anie good or­der. Therefore OSWALD despising all secular pompe, and riches of this world, determined to passe ouer into France, to the Benedictin Monasterie of Florie, where the bodie of our holie father S. BENE­DICT is sayd to rest. S. ODO his vncle (who before he would vnder­take He taketh the habit of S. Bent­dict. the Archbishoprick, had receaued the habit of a monke in the same place) being desirous to further his pious intention herein, gaue him letters of commendation with tokens to the fathers there of his acquaintance. OSWALD being safely arriued into the port of his de­sires, putt on the habitt of S. BENEDICT amongst those French mon­kes; And presently he that came thither to be instructed, behaued, and fashoned him self in such sort, that others, who thought them selues his masters, might in him reade a lesson for their owne instruction, His vertues and find manie examples of vertue worthie their imitation. For he was a man of great mortification, of a little sleepe, sparing in his diet, wise and moderate in his speeches, and continuall in his prayers. But how rarely he was indued with patience, humilitie, curresie, humani­tie, meekenes and other vertues we may easily guesse out of the sincerity of his burning charitie, wherein, it is beyond the force of [Page 190] weake words to expresse, how highly he excelled.

II. THE Abbot graunted him the priuiledge of a secret place in the Church, where with more freedom and familiaritie he might ap­plie his mind to the diuine seruice of allmigtie God. In which place The deuill ennieth, his studie of vertue. being remooued from the noyse, and disquiet of others, he bent all the endeauour, and power of his soule to prayer, meditation, and con­templation of diuine, and heauenly mysteries; which his pious exer­cise serued as bellowes to blow the coales of the Deuils enuie and hatred against him. For as the holy man was one night earnestly bent O [...]wald vaquish [...]h his diabo­licall pra­ctises with the signe of the crosse. to his prayers, and meditations, the wicked spiritt raysed the most horrid noyses and cries, that humane eares euer heard, intending therby ether to make him desist from his holy enterprise, or at lest to performe it more slouthfully, or neuer more to attempt the practise of anie such deuotion. But he was deceaued in all, for OSWALD kee­ping fast his footing, vnder the approoued protection and bucklar of a firme and constant fayth, was noe more terrified with the roa­ring of lions, the hissing of serpents, and the horrid cries, and howling of other beasts, which that wicked authour of mischief did faine, then yf he had heard the sillie bleating of soe manies innocent lambs, or sheepe; and therefore he contemned, and scorned all those vglie cries, togeather with the diabolicall author of them. The deuill confounded hereat, suddenly vanished away, and straight appeared vnto him trāsformed into the shape of an angel of light. Whe he (that knew a good angel would not be troubled at the signe of the holy crosse) presently armed himself therewith, which the wicked tempter noe sooner perceaued, butihe be trayed himself to be a Messenger of darkenes, vanishing out of his sight like a puffe of smoke, and he remayned free euer after from his hellish practises.

III. NEERE vnto his priuate oratorie was a place where twelue poore men receaued their dayly sustenance from the monasterie, one of which dayly assisted S. OSWALD at the dreadfull sacrifice of Masse. It happened one day that as the holy man being past the ghospell, lifted vp his eyes to heauen in his prayers, his seruant saw a person of a verie reuerend countenance houlding with great reuerence a little peece of white bread in his hands, lifted ouer his head. The poore man allthough wonderfully terrified with this visiō, yet he stood stif­fely to it, and would not offer to runne away. But perceauing the [Page 191] same bread to encrease more and more, as the Priest went forward in his masse, and at length to become of an vnaccustomed bignes, he durst stay noe longer, but fled out of the Church with all the hast he could. Therefore S. OSWALD the Priest remayned alone, with the Angel on his right hand, that seemed to assist him. In the meane time, the poore man would euer now and then trembling peepe in at the Church doore, to hearken, and espie what was done about the aul­tar: and when the seruanr of God, as the manner is, pronounced; Per omnia saecula saeeulorū, & other such like, he heard the Angel answeare him distinctly to euery thing, and saw him verie officiously wayting vppon him. Masse being ended his fugitiue seruant returned, and per­ceauing the Angel to be gone, he ranne quaking to S. OSWALD, and related the cause of his running away, inquiring of him yf he like­wise had seene the Angel. Truely (sayd he) I both saw, and heard what thou doest rehearse: all mightie Gods name be for euer blessed, who did not forsake me, being destitute of helpe in his holie sacrifice. And I strictly commaund thee, neuer to reueale this vision while I liue.

IV. SAINCT ODO Archbyshop of Canturburie hearing the fame of S. OSWALDS holie conuersatiō and manner of life, gaue infinite than­kes vnto the authour of all goodnes, and with manie guifts sent to the monasterie, shewed, & declared him self in name, of his nephew, very gratefull, and thankfull both to the Abbott, and Monks the­reof: withall fignifying vnto them, that he greatly desired to enioy his presence in England, as well for that now being tired with old age he supposed his death to be neere at hand, as allsoe for that he was determined by his meanes, to order, and traine vp those of his owne Countrey in regular and monasticall discipline. This message sorely troubled the monks of Fleurie, who were verie vnwilling to par [...] with OSWALD, and OSWALD was as vnwilling to leaue them, soe desi­rous he was to liue a priuate retired life. But nether daring to con­tend against the Archbishops will, they obeyed, and sent him back with due honour, and respect: But before he arriued at Conturbury his vncle S. ODO had taken his iourney to heauen.

V. But he had an other Vnkle called Osketill, who at that time go­uerned Osketill Archbi­shop of Yorke. the Church of Dorcester, and hearing of Oswalds arriuall, not only entertayned him very courteously, but gaue him soe high a seate [Page 192] in his fauour, that he made him of his counsell in the more secret af­fayres of his soule. Till not long after Osketill being elected to the Ar­chiepiscopall sea of York, S. DVNSTAN, with his prayses and commen­dations of OSWALD, brought him into great grace, and familiaritie with noble King Edgar, who caused DVNSTAN to aduance him to the Episcopall sea of Worcester. In this sacred dignitie he behaued him self worthyly both for the benefitt of the English Church, and restoring William Malm. de gest. reg. Ang. cap. 7. of monasticall disc pline, which by the barbarous incursions of the Danes, and the lasciuious furie of late king Edwy, who totally fauou­red the vices of the secular Clergie, was much impayred. And first in the village of Westberie he gathered a little Conuent of twelue Bene­dictin monkes, whom he vsed verie often times to visitt, and confort with his pious exhortatiōs, & togeather with them to labour him self in the pious exercise of a retired life, in watching, fasting, and prayer. Afterwards he built the Benedictine Abbey of Ramsey among the fennes of Huntingtonshire which florished from that time to the vnfor­tunate age of Henry the eight. It was first founded vppon this occa­sion.

VI COVNT Ailwin, a neere kinsman to King Edgar, had for manie Records of Ramsey. yeares endured the cruell torments of the goute. When a certaine fishermā of his called Vulget, entring with his boate into the water of Ramesmere (soe the place was called) endeauoured to take some fish for his master: but hauing laboured a long while in vaine, at length much wearied, he fell asleepe; when our holy father S. BENEDICT ap­peared vnto him with these words: at the rising of the morning (sayd he) cast thy netts into the water, and according to thy desire thou shall take great store of fish, of which take the greatest called a Pike The vision of a Fish­erman. and present it to Alwin thy master in my name, bidding him that he receaue my guift courteously, and out of hand build a monasterie for monks in this Iland to the honour of the most holy Mother of God, mine, and all the holy virgins: and let him obserue where his cattle rest by night, and in the verie place where he shall see the bull as he rises beate the ground with his right foote, let him erect an aul­tar. But that he may giue more creditt to these my commaunds, be­hould I will bend thy finger crooked, which he, being freed from the goute that soe vehemently afflicts him, shall presently restore to place againe. The fisherman awaking cast forth his netts into the [Page 193] deepes, and drew out great store of fish; he presented the fayrest to the Count, rehearsing at large what he had seene. and what was gi­uen him in charge to say: intreating him withall to make good his crooked finger. The Count being healed of his goute, straighte­ned Count Alwin cu­red of the gout. his finger, and went in all hast to the Iland, where he beheld the bull rising out of the midst of the other beasts, that in their lying made the forme of a crosse, beate the earth with his foote. Wherevp­pon giuing creditt to the Fishermans relation, he gaue thankes vnto allmightie God, and erected a chappel out of hand in the same place. Where not long after, Alwin giuing verie ample possessions therevn­to, S. OSWALD within the cōpasse of fiue yeares erected a goodly mo­nasterie for Benedictin Monks, and in the yeare of our Lord 974. he dedicated the Church with great solemnitie to the honour of the B. Virgin MARIE, and the great Patriark of monks S. BENEDICT; and made a monk of his called Ednoth the first Abbot thereof. The Ab­botts of this Monasterie in times past were Barons of the realme, and Parliament men. Anno 97 [...]. A Councel in England against the inconti­nencie of the [...]ecular Clergie. Mathew Westm. Baronius and Os­bern in vit. Dunst.

VII. ABOVT the same time the worthie prelate of Canturbury & mir­rour of the Benedictine order S. DVNSTAN, by the supreme authoritie of Pope Iohn, summoned a Councell, wherein it was firmely decreed, and ordayned that all secular Canons, Priests, deacons subdeacons and others of the secular Clergie should eyther conforme thē selues to a chast life according to their calling, or be dismissed from the Churches, which by their lewd manner of life they rather polluted, then gouerned. And in this expeditiō S. DVNSTAN, had the famous king Edgar his faythfuil Coadiutour, and worthie Defender. The executiō of his decree was cōmitted to the two bright ornaments of the Benedictin familie S. OSWALD Bishop of Worcester, and S. ETHEL­WOLD of Winchester. Therefore S. OSWALD (of who only wee are now to speak) repayred, built, and restored seauen monasteries, within his owne diocesse, to the Monks, ordayning to each one an Abbot, hauing first cast out the secular Clergie for their insolent lewdnes of life. Amongst those Abbots there was one called Fulbert Abbot of Persore, a man of verie examplar life, and a feruent zea­ler of monasticall religion, but too seuere towards his subiects, A fearfull [...]xample or vn [...]is­re [...] Ruler [...] which fault was much to be reprehended in him. For coming to his last end, and being layd dead on the biere, he suddenly lifted him [Page 194] self vp, to the great terrour of the beholders, crying out that he was led by S. BENEDICT before the dreadfull sight of the supreme iudge, and that God with difficultie had pardoned him his sinnes, through the meritts of his beloued seruant OSWALD, for the declaration of whose sainctitie he was thus miraculously reuiued. At these words he was silent, and hauing receaued the sacred Viaticum of our lords bodie, he liued half a day, and returned to death a­gaine.

VIII. ALLSOE in manie other places of England S, OSWALD Oswald re­st [...]reth the monks to the [...]r Chur­ches hauing expulsed the secular clergie for the self same cause of in­continencie he deliuered the gouernment of the Churches to monks, of the Benedictin institution, to whom they truely belon­ged: to witt, the Churches of S. ALBANS, of S. ETHELDRED virgin in Ely, and that of Beamfled. In S. ALBANS he made one Elfrick Ab­bot afterwards Archbishop of Canturburie, he ordayned Abbots at Ely one Brithnot, and Gorman at Beamfled. And all the monasteries which thus he instituted he was wont often times to visitt, and out of a fatherly affection to furnish them both by word and deed, with whatsoeuer appertayned to the health, and saluation of their soules. In the Abbey of Ramsey he placed one Abbo a Benedictin monk of Fleury in France, a man famous both for sainctitie and learning, to Abbo of [...]ury. teach, direct, and gouerne the monks in their schooles, and togeather with the endowments of learning, to aduance them in the exercise of regular, and monasticall discipline. This Abbo at S. DVNSTANS en­treatie writt an exact relation of the life and passion of S. EDMVND King and martyr, which you may read the twentith of Nouember. At length returning to his owne Abbey of Fleury, he was there made Abbot, and afterwards martired by some vnruly monks whom he laboured to reforme.

IX THVS laboured blessed OSWALD in the reformation of Ec­clesiasticall affayres, redeeming and working the virginall Church and spouse of CHRIST out of the sacrilegious hands of her loose gouerners, and clensing his sacred haruest from the impure tares of lasciuiousnes. But after what manner he reduced the Benedictines into their auncient Cathedrall Church of Worcester, let William Mal­mesburie tell vs. S. OSWALD (saith he) considering by little, and little that in the minds of the clergie there residing, there remay­ned [Page 195] yet some small sparkes of goodnes, which might be bettered yf a man knew how to animate, and shapen it aright, did not expell How [...] re­ [...]ored the monks to their Ch [...]rch of Worcester. them forcibly, but entrapped them with a most pious sleight. And because the Cathedrall Church was dedicated to the honour of S. PETER, he erected an other in the same Church-yard, to the name of the blessed mother of God: in which, hauing placed a Conuent of monks, he more willingly conuersed, and more familiarly executed the diuine office amongst them then with the secular Clergie. Which the poeple perceauing, who held it a great offence to want the dayly Benediction of soe religious a Bishop, flocked all thither. Soe that the Clergie left alone, chose rather to putt on the habitt, and man­ners of the monkes, then otherwise to be a domage to them selues, and a mockerie to the common poeple. But those (sayth Wigorniensis) that refused to take the monasticall habitt, he quite expelled the mo­nasterie, and ouer the rest which consented to a monasticall life, he made one Winsinure, a vertuous Benedictin, monk of Ramsey, Prior in place of the Deane. The rumour of S. OSWALDS prudent cariage of this busines coming to the eares of noble King Edgar, gott him won­derfull great friendship, and fauour both with him, and all the Peeres S. Oswald made Arch bishop of Yorke. of his realme. And the pious King, by the authoritie of a royall Char­ter, greatly praysed and commended this act of S. OSWALD, and con­firmed the monastery of Worcester to the possession of the Benedictine monks for euer. Afterwards, the Archbishop of York being dead, S. OSWALD by the meanes of King Edgar and S. DVNSTAN Archbis­hop of Canturburie, and the consent of the whole clergie, was com­pelled to vndertake the gouernment of that Sea allso. But lest the mōkes of his diocese, who yet were but newly setled in that Church, being soe suddenly left destitute of the spirituall nourishement of soe good a father, should beginne to wauer for want of a constant pre­lat and pastour to vphold them, by the authoritie of S. DVNSTAN the Metropolitan of England, and worthie Pillar of t [...]e Benedictine Order, he was held likewise in the gouernment of the Church of Worcester, togeather with the Archiepiscopall Sea of Yorke; soe great was the estimation of his excellent worth, incomparable vertue, & wonderfull zeale, pietie, and deuotion, in the reforming of the bad customs, and establishing of good lawes for the maintenance and propagation of Ecclesiasticall discipline.

[Page 196] X. IT PLEASED the allmightie wisedom, while this Blessed Prelat thus exercised him self in these good workes of pietie, and zeale towards his Church, to confirme his holy endeauours, and testi­fie them to be pleasing and acceptable to his diuine maiestie, by ma­nie miracles, which he wrought through his meritts, both in his life, and after his death. When the Church of our Ladie which Behould the Spirit of S Bene­dict in S. Oswald. we haue mentioned before was in building, there lay not farr from the place a great square stone necessarie for that worke, which when the workemen endeauoured to make vse off, as yf it had taken roote in the ground, it stuck soe fast that by noe meanes they were able only to moue it. All greatly amazed there­at, the matter was brought to S. OSWALD, who coming to the place, wondred to see soe manie men striue in vaine in soe small a labour: and straight offering vp his prayers priuately vnto all­mightie God, he saw an vglie Blackamoore sitting vppon the stone, with obscene gesture scoffing at the labourers. And pre­sently brandishing the signe of the holy Crosse against him, he suddenly vanished away. Then the stone which fowerscore, The vertue of the ho­ly Crosse. men before were not able to stirre, was with ease carried away by a few, and putt into the building: The like accident S. GRE­GORIE relates of our holy Father S. BENEDICT him self, when his monks were erecting a monasterie, whereby it appeares how great an opposer the Deuill is to the workes of Benedictines, and that their malice which oppose that holy order comes but from a black master.

XI. THE monks of Ramsey abbey, (OSWALD standing on the other side of the riuer) endeauoured to passe ouer to him in a boate, He saneth his monks from drow­ning. which being ouer loaden, began to sinke, when they poore soules suddenly astonished with such an imminent danger of death, cried out for help vnto him, who making the signe of the crosse vpon thē, the boate presently returned from vnder the water, as yf it had been without anie burden, and carried them safely ouer to the shore on the other side.

XII. IT WAS tould him on a time, that a monk of Ely busied in the repayring of the Church, died by a fall frō the topp thereof. Where­at, because he knew that monk had not led a life alltogeather wi­thout fault, he was much grioued, and calling the monkes of Ramsey [Page 197] abbey togeather, he related vnto them the accident of his sorrow, exhorting them to pray earnestly vnto allmightie. God for his soule. Prayers for the dead meri­torious. They obeying his pious desire, sung Dirges, and Psalmes for their deceased brother; sorrowfully knocking at the gates of the diuine mercie. At length as the holy Bishop was at his prayers, that dead monke appeared visibly vnto him, who inquiring what he was: I am he (replied the ghost) for whom thou soe feruently doest pray. And how (sayd the holy man sighing) hast thou done hithervnto, Purgatorie which He­reticks shall neuer feele. and yet, how is it with thee? Truely (answeared he) hithervnto very ill, but now most well: for through thy meritts, and prayers I was yesterday deliuered by gods holy Angel out of the insuffera­ble paines, which did torment me. And this I came to tell thee, and render manie thankes for thy charitie, and withall to admo­nish thee how gratefull thou oughtest to be for this and manie other graces and benefitts, which it hath pleased his diuine ma­iestie to shew vnto thee. This sayd, he vanished. And the holy man gaue infinite thankes vnto allmightie God for his goodnes.

XIII. HE WAS, wont at fitt times to make a progresse ouer all his Diocesse, and feed their soules with the heauenly learning of his sermons, euer cōforming his owne life to his words and whatsoe­uer he could find in the manners of his subiects, which might of­fend the eyes of the diuine ouerseer of all humane actions, with a fatherly corection he endeauoured to see amended. In this his pious visitation he happened to come to Rippon, where in former The Bodies of Saincts mi­raculously found. times the holy Benedictine monk S. Wilsrid had been buried in a mo­nasterie which him self there erected, and which afterwards for the most part was destroyed and ruined by barbarous poeple, and changed (as now adaies our monasteries are) to dennes, and lodgings forwild beasts. Here the holy man watching by night at his deuotions, learnt by reuelation that the bodies of some saincts were buried there, which doubtless by diligent search might be found. The next morning he caused the earth to be digged vp, whe­reby the holy bodies were found, and a table with this inscription. ‘Here resteth S. Wilfrid Bishop of York, and the reuerend Abbotts, Tilbert, Boruin, Albert, Sigred, and Wilden.’ [Page 198] In the meane time he placed those reliques in a conuenient place: but afterwards, vnderstanding this S. WILFRID to be a kinsman of the great S. WILFRID founder of that monasterie, he caused his bo­die to be enshrined, and honourably reserued according to his worth. For the body of that great S. WILFRID was long since tran­slated thence to Canturburie by S. ODO the Archbishop. And now S. OSWALD sent these other reliques honorably vnto Worcester.

XIV. MANIE other miracles were wrought by the meritts of this Manie Mi­racles. holy Bishop. The bread which he had blessed, cured a great man of a feauer; and a ratt that chanced to eate the crummes thereof as they fell from his table, was choked, and died presently in the same place. A monk which presumed to sitt and sleepe in his seate, was cruelly tormented by a horrid crew of deuills for his temeritie.

XV. HOW charitable he was to the poore, it exceedeth this weake His nota­ble huma­nitie, and charitie towards the poore penne to rehearse. He was wont euerie day, besides innumerable others which dayly he nourished, to exercise his charitie more pe­culiarly to twelue poore men, washing their durtie feete, drying them with a towell, and kissing them with his holy mouth; powring water on their hands, couering them a table prouiding them meate, and drink, wayting on them at table; and lastly hauing well satisfied their hunger he bestowed on each a peece of siluer, and dis­missed them. Vnto these at Easter he gaue new cloathes, and retay­ned them with him in his hall as his principall guests for certaine daies. Noe sicknes could detayne him from these pious offices, nay the weaker he found his body, the more he forced him self with greater diligence to execute his seruice to these poore men: worthy­ly following herein the humble example and exemplar humilitie of our deare Redeemer washing the feete of his twelue Apostles.

XVI. AT LENGTH, hauing for the space of manie yeares ruled both his bishopricks, with great wisedom, and sainctity, to the wonder­full He fore­ [...]eth his [...]ne death. admiration of England, the notable encrease of Gods Church, the reformation of vice, and the worthy aduancement of mona­sticall discipline, hauing outliued his two Bretheren in religion, and noble Equals in sainctitie, Dunstan and Ethelwold, the first fiue yeares, the other tenne; the day before his departure out of this life, goeing forth with his monkes out of the Church into the open ayre, he stood with his eyes most attentiuely bent towards heauen, making [Page 199] his prayer with a mouth and heart full of pietie, vnto IESVS CHRIST whom soe feruently he desired to enioy. Nether did he (as at other times) quickly draw back his eyes from looking vpwards, but as yf he did comtemplate with great pleasure of mind some strange no­ueltie, he remayned very long fixed on what he beheld. Being de­maunded what he saw. I contemplate (sayd he) the place whither I am goeing, which to morrow next you shall plainly vnderstand. For the eternall happines is now at hand, to attaine which I haue hi­thervnto laboured on earth; nether shall the morrow-sunne be sett, before my Lord, as he hath promised, will call me into the ioyes of his euer flourishing paradise. Therefore returning into the Church he called his monkes togeather, and exhorted them to giue him the He recea­ueth the last Sacra­ments. sacrament of extreme vnction, and the sacred viaticum of our Lords bodie. The night following, forgetting this his sicknes, (soe at­tentiue he was to prepare for his happy iourney) he went into the Church and hauing finished his diuine office, he spent the rest of the night in prayers. In the morning, according to custom, he gyrt him self with a towell, and washed, dried, and kissed the feete of his twelue poore men; and hauing performed the fifteene psalmes which he vsed to recite in that pious seruice, he added thereunto; Gloria pa­tri &c. and the poore rising as their manner was, to giue thankes, In his piou [...] exer­cise he happyly de­parteth. at those wordes, (Spiritui Sancto) in sight of them all, he yeelded vp his blessed soule into the hands of his deere Redeemer; the twentie eight day of February in the yeare of our Lord 992, hauing been bis­hop thirtie yeares. When his bodie was carried to buriall, a white doue appeared to descend from heauen, and flieing gently ouer it, couered and protected it with her wings. Allsoe a fierie globe seemed miraculously to hang ouer the biere whereon his holy bodie was layd. And when his sacred reliques were placed before the high aultar, that fierie vision, as it were to designe the place for his bu­riall, wauered to the south side of the Church ouer against the aul­tar, and suddenly vanished out of sight. His Bodie was committed to the earth in the Church of our blessed Ladie which him self (as we haue sayd before) had erected. And Count Alwin after the death of this holy man, being oppressed with an vnspeabeable anguish, and grief of mind, departed out of this teadious life, and was buried in his Abbey of Ramsey with this Epitaph.

[Page 200] Here resteth Alwin cozen of the famous King Edgar, Alder­man of all England, and the miraculous founder of this sacred Monasterie.

The holy Bishop Sainct OSWALD, as in his life he was wonderfull, soe after his death, it pleased the allmightie worker of wonders, to shew manie miracles at his tombe by his holy intercession, and meritts, whereof we will speake more at large on the feast of his translation the 15. day of October, when his greatest festiuitie was cele­brated in the English Church. It resteth only now, that wee pray vnto his glorious Sainct who is soe potent and powerfull a fauorite with allmightie God, to obtaine his diuine grace for vs in this world, and to be partakers of the glorie of his blessed Saincts in the next, through our lord IESVS-CHRIST, who be for e [...]er blessed, praysed, & glorified. Amē. His life was writtē by one Senatus Brauonius a mōk of Wor­cester about the yeare of our Lord 1170. which is recited by Laurence Surius in his tenth tome, and praysed by Baronius for a historie saythfully written. We haue only added thereūto some few things out Malmesbury, Baronius, Harpsfield. The verie same history with this of Surius is recited by Iohn Cap­graue out of Ioannes Anglicus, only different in the stile which Surius cor­rected. The mouthes of all historiographers, English and others, are full of the prayses of S. OSWALD.

The life of S. AIDO, or Aidus, Abbot, and Confessor.
FEB. 28. Out of an auncient authour recited by Iohn Cap graue.

AIDO borne in the prouince of Conaght in Jreland, and giuen to his barren parents by the speciall fauour of allmightie God, when he came to such age that he was able to make choise of a course of life, he departed to the Prouince of Leinster, where he led a solitarie life in all manner of vertue and holines. Afterwards, he came into Wales, where liuing vnder the discipline of great [Page 201] S. Dauid, he dayly shewed manie strange examples of miraculous workes, and vertues, in soe much that during the time of his abode there, the Saxons (then mortall enemies to the Britans) durst ne­uer presume to inuade their dominions fearing the power & vertue of this Sainct. Returned as he was againe into Ireland, he built a mo­nasterie He buil­deth a monasterie in Ireland wherein he became the spirituall father, and teacher of ve­rie manie monks, whom he instructed in all good learning, and the monasticall discipline of those times. Manie strange, and allmost incredible miracles, are reported of this holy man, which I willin­gly omitt. It sufficeth, for proofe of his Sainctitie, that he liued in the continuall exercise of vertues, and died loden with the meritts of manie good works, as he did this twentie eigth day of February. At S. DAVIDS in Meneuia he was called Mo [...]dock that is, Jrish: and there his feast was celebrated with verie great reuerence and de­uotion. Thus much of his life I haue gathered out of Ioannes Anglicus recited by Iohn Capgraue, with whom only let the truth of his relation stand, for I find noe other Authour that maketh mention of this Sainct.

The life of S, SWIBERT Bishop and Confessor, Apostle of Frizeland, and Saxonie monk of the holy order of S. BENEDICT.
MAR. 1 Written by S. Mar celline priest, his companiō, and fellow preacher.

IN THE yeare of our Lord six hundred fortie seauen, S. SWIBERT was borne in Northumberland of noble & princely parēts, coūt Si­gebert, and Berta his wife. Before his byrth, his deuout mother had a vision,The vision of his mo­ther. as she lay in her bed, wherein she beheld one starre in the [Page 303] heauens farre excelling all the rest in brightnes, whose glittering beames, seemed to giue light to the whole countrey, and presently the same starre appeared to fall vppon the bed where she lay. This was then interpreted by S. AYDAN bishop of Lindisfarne to be a presage of the child that she bore in her wombe, who (as he sayd) should be a light vnto his Countrey, and the whole Church of God. And in confirmation hereof, at the very hower she was deliue­red, A strange light ap­peared at his birth. a wonderfull great splendour shined in the chamber, whose beames seemed to dazle the daies light, and much astonish the behol­ders. The Child being borne, the same light decreased by degrees, and vanished. In baptisme he was called SWIBERT, and being from his verie Cradle trayned vp in the feare of God, and good learning, he soe carefully auoyded all vices incident to that age, and soe man­fully embraced the hard waies of vertue, that he gaue great hopes of his future greatnes, which caused manie allreadie to prognosti­cate wonders of his sainctitie. And to the end he might dayly He embra­ceth a mo­nasticall life. proceed the better from vertue, to vertue, a [...] the age of fifteene yeares, he departed with the good leaue of his parents to the Bene­dictine abbey of Bard [...] in Lincolne [...]ire, where he forsoke all worldly hopes, and became a monk of the holy order of S. BENE­DICT, vnder the gouerment of the good Abbot Higbald. In this vertuous schoole, our noble youth carefully endeauoured to enno­ble his mind, with all manner of vertue, in all things behauing him self, with such prompt obedience, humble modestie, and sweet innocencie of life, that in short time he grew to he much loued, esteemed, admired, and reuerenced euen of the greatest, and aun­cientest monks in the house. Hauing liued nine yeares in the same monasterie, in continuall continencie, abstinence, and the exer­cise of regular, and monasticall discipline, he was aduanced to the sacred dignitie of Priesthood, in the execution of which holy fun­ction He is made Priest. worthyly corresponding with his vertuous actions, he of­fered dayly to allmightie God a most acceptable sacrifice. For in true pietie and religion he was second to none, adorned with the glorie of all Christian vertues, most attentiue and frequent in his prayers, and most exactly rigid in fasting, and mortifying his owne bodie: in soe much that he gaue great examples of edification to his brethren, and the famous report of his vertues was publi­shed, [Page 204] and admired throughout the Countrey.

II. WHILST thus he shined in the excellencie of a religious life among his other brethren, as a bright sunne amongst the rest of the planets, the Bishop of Yorke, hauing vnderstood the incompara­ble Benedicti­ne Monks sometimes Canons. prayses of his vertue, reioyced much thereat, and sending for him made him a Canon of the Cathedrall Church of S. Peters at Yorke. Whereat the reader need not wonder, since heretofore is hath been a laudable custom, much practised in the Church of God, for Monks of S. BENEDICTS order, to gouerne cathedrall Churches as Canons, & were indeed monasticall canons; and of this kind S. SWIBERT was ordayned one at Yorke. In which CONVENT (sayth the authour, to shew that they were monks, since a quire of secular Ca­nons is called a CHAPTER and not a CONVENT) he liued for the space of two yeares in soe great austeritie of life, & such strict obseruance of Monasticall discipline, that he seemed to leade an angelicall life vpō S. Swibert of a Bene­ctin Ca­non made Abbot of Monks. earth. And now being come to that height of perfection that he was fitt to be proposed as a mirrour to all such as professed a regular life, he was created abbott of the monasterie of Dacore, soe called frō the riuer Dacor running thereby. In the meane time, the venerable man S. EGBERT a Benedictin monk (of whom see Aprill the 24.) wonder­fully zealing the gaine of soules, & the promulgatiō of CHRISTS holy Ghospel, (his owne resolution to goe into those countreyes being hindered by reuelatiō frō heauen) made choise of twelue learned English monkes all zealous of the Catholick cause out of diuers mo­nasteries Twelue English Benedictins sent to preach in Germanie. of Englād & Jreland to preach the Christiā fayth in Frizelād. One & not the lest of these elect preachers was our S. SWIBERT, & S. MARCELINE that wrote his life an other: they were eleuen priests, & one decon, who hauing all happyly passed the sea towards the viney­ard of CHRIST allotted to their holy charge, they ariued at Vtreicht about the yeare 690. And following the same institution, order and conuersation of life that the Apostles, and disciples of CHRIST vsed in the primitiue Church, noe man presuming to call anie thing his owne, but all obseruing the rules of the monasticall, and reli­gious pouertie, which they professed, They began with verie great constancie, and resolution, to preach the Christian fayth amongst those barbarous poeple; But the Frisons that were men of an vnta­med and stubborne nature, stoode stiffely in defence of their Ido­atrie, [Page 205] refusing to listen to the sacred tidings of the true Ghospell; soe that these holy preachers being threatned with death for annoū ­cing the words of life, were compelled to depart thence, hauing at first reaped litle or noeprofitt at all.

III. THEREFORE they went into an Iland called Fosteland where Radbode the persidious King of Friseland (being beaten out of his Kingdome by the most Christian Prince Pepin of France) thē remay­ned. And in this (it being a place of verie great, and solemne resort among those Pagans, by reason of the superstitious Idolatrie vsed there to a God of theirs called Foste, from whom the Iland tooke name) the Preachers of CHRIST began to announce the holy ghos­pell, and hauing destroyed the profane aultars of those stonie­hearted Gods, Iupiter and Foste, they laboured to conuert the poeple to the knowledge of the only true God creatour of the world; where their paines were rewarded with the conuersion but of three soules only. But Radbode vnderstanding hereof, caused one of them Wigbert martired. called Wigbert to be cruelly putt to death (a glorie which long be­fore he had desired) and banished all the rest out of the Iland. When they, perceiuing the tirannie of the worldly prince, to with­stand their good endeauours in preaching the sweet ghospell of the king of heauen, retired them selues to the forenamed worthie Prince Pepin, who sent them to preach in the lower parts of Frizeland, with a strict charge to all the Pagans vnder his dominion to heare them with pacience. By this meanes, manie were dayly conuerted A Church dedicated to the holy Crosse. to the fayth; in soe much that they procured a Church to be built at Ʋtreicht in honour of the holy Crosse, in which they consecrated a font, that such as receiued the Fayth, might haue free accesse to be there baptised. And now the haruest of our Lord beginning greatly to encrease, and the labourers, being but few, these holy men deuided them selues, & wēt by two, & three togeather to preach in diuers parts of lower Germanie. But S. SWIBERT (of whō only now we treat) accompanied with Weresrid, & Marcelline, came to the great village some two miles distant frō Vtreight, called Duerstat, where cō ­stantly preaching CHRIST crucified, and proouing their worshiped Idolls to be nothing but houses of deuils, he was streight apprehēded S. Swibert beaten, and imprisoned by the Pagan Priests, who feared the vtter ruine of their Idolatry, & being cruelly beaten, he was cast into prison, meaning to put him [Page 306] priuately to death the next morning: for publickly they durst not doe it, fearing the French Christians, vnder the yoake of whose gouernment they were. When we (sayth the Authour) werenfrid and I Marcelline, with teares and lamentations followed him to the prison gate. Which S. SWIBERT perceiuing, with a mer­rie countenance comforted, and exhorted them couragiously to Deliuered by an An­gel. remayne in the fayth of CHRIST, and not to feare death for his sake. But the same night, as he prayed in that darkesome lodging, a bright Angel appeared vnto him with lightsom newes of comfort, fol­lowing the lustre of whose fayre countenance (like an other Apo­stle PETER, he was deliuered out of that irksome iayle, in the verie sight and view of his astonished Iaylours. Then coming againe to his two companious, they fell all togeather on their knees, and gaue humble thanks to allmightie God for this great token of his loue, and goodnes.

IV. THE Pagans, and specially the Priests of the Idols vnderstan­ding the manner of his straing deliuerie, began to stagger in their fayth, and call in question the power of their weake Gods. Before whom S. SWIBERT preaching againe the next day, and worthyly extolling the omnipotent power of IESVS-CHRIST, bred a generall amazement in their blinded soules, and conuerted verie manie to the true Catholick fayth, noe mā offring to lay hands on him. Which done, he returned againe to Ʋtrei [...]ght, making his fellowe-brethren partakers of what had happened; who with teares of ioy receiued him, and gaue infinite thanks to the allmightie worker of his free­dom. Afterwards he wēt through diuers townes and Villages of Fri­zeland, Holland, & Teisterband, founding, and breathing noe other Manie conuerted to the fayth. words or accents but of Christ and his holy Ghospell; and allbeit he found manie great difficulties, and endured strainge afflictions from the furie of the Infidels, yet allwaies sustayned by the diuine helpe, he constantly perseuered in his holy enterprise of preaching; whereby great store of poeple were conuerted to the knowledge of the true fayth. He arriued at length at a village in Holland, called Hagenstein, where (it being a principall festiuitie among the Pagans) he chanced to find the poeple verie busily employed in the worship­full exercise of their diabolicall sacrifices, rites, and ceremonies be­fore See the constant [...]eale of S Swibert. their stonie Gods. and thrusting him self into the midest of [Page 307] that barbarous presse of people, he cried out in the spiritt of his zeale, and verie eagerly reprehēded the blindnes of their ignorance, in worshiping those stocks and stones for Gods, preaching vnto them the true fayth of CHRIST crucified, whose power was infinite in heauen, and earth, & who only it was, that ruled the course of the world, and produced miraculous effects therein. The Pagans ad­miring soe great constancie and boldnes in the man, and being cu­rious to make experience, whether it were true that miracles could be wrought in the vertue of him whom he preached, flocked pre­sently about him, offring him a yong man called Giselbert, that from his byrth had neuer seene the light: whom (yf by the power of the Crucified God he soe highly extolled) he could restore to perfect sight, they would be content to giue more eare to his doctrine, otherwise he was to expect a sudden and cruell death for his hire. The holy man, compelled by the iustnes of this necessitie, fell presen­tly on his knees, & hauing deuoutly powred out his humble prayers to allmightie God, he arose, and making the signe of the holy Cros­se on the vnprofitable eies of the blind person, cried out with a lowd voyce: In the name of the true God our Lord IESVE-CHRIST cru­cified whose ghospell I preach, I commaund thee to receiue thy One borne blind he cureth with the signe of the crosse. sight, and confesse the power of thy creatour. At which words the yong man opening his eyes found the perfect vse of his desired sight; to his owne great comfort, and the wonderfull astonishment of the beholders, that heard him openly proclaime that there was noe other God but IESVS-CHRIST, whom his seruant SWIBERT prea­ched.

V. THE Pagans (as blind of fayth as he had been of sight) much Manie re­ceaue the Christian fayth. amazed at the strangenes of this miracle, began to be touched to the quick with a true compunction of heart, and horrour of they owne ignorance, and first the Sacrificer of the Village, with great store of poeple fell humbly prostrate before S. SWIBERT, to demaund pardon for the wrong offered. Whom when the B. man with ma­nie pious exhortations had confirmed in the true fayth, the next day, allmost all the poeple of that Village being gathered togeather in the profane temple of their Idoll, by the same holy mans perswas on, beleeued, and were clensed from all their sinnes in the sacred F [...]t of Baptisme, and their Idolatrous Temple was chainged into a [Page 208] Christian Church, and consecrated afterwards by S. SWIBERT (when he was made Bishop) to the honour of God, and the vnspotted Virgin his Mother. The glorie of this miracle being blowne ouer the countrey, through the trumpet of flying fame manie that had knowne the yong man blind, came willingly to S. SWIBERT, and being by him instructed, they beleeued and were baptised.

VI. THEN the number of Christians dayly increasing in manie parts of Germanie, through the fruitfull preaching of S. SWIBERT, S. Swibert made Bis­hop. and his other fellowes, & being in want of bishops to exercise more eminent authoritie ouer them, to consecrate Churches, for the di­uine seruice, to giue holy orders, and supplie all others functions belonging to Ecclesisticall affaires, they made choise of two, WILLI­BRORD that went to Rome, and SWIBERT that came into England, both to be aduāced to the Episcopall dignitie. S. SWIBERT was con­secrated Bishop on S. BARTHOLOMEWS day, by the hands of the most excellent flower of the Benedictine order WILFRIDE Bishop of Yorke, who then wrongfully expelled from his bishoprick, led a priuate life in the Kingdom of Mercia or Middle England. This done, our holy SWIBERT adorned with episcopall authoritie, & fortified with the comfortable speeches of S. WILFRID, returned againe to Utreight He i [...] fa­mous ouer the coutrey courragiously to follow on his pious enterprise, adorning his new receaued dignities, with a new list of vertues, behauing him self from hence forth with great humilitie, meeknes, simplicitie, iustice, and all other degrees of perfection: and making these vertues (as it were) the baites to take and winne soules out of the deluge of Idolatrie, to the secure and quiet shore of CHRISTS Church by the force of his di­uine learning, and vnwearied labour of preaching. Which tooke soe good effect, that in diuers parts of Friseland, and allmost all the countrie of Teisterband, the poeple were conuerted to the fayth, and manie Churches raysed and built on the ruines of Idolatrie, were consecrated to the seruice of IESVS-CHRIST. Soe that S. SWIBERT growing to be of great fame, and estimation in all those countries for his singular vertue, and miracles, and being an amazement to the Pagans, and Pagan priests, it pleased the diuine goodnes to glo­rifie him more, and more with wonders, to the confusion of the [...]ntils, and great aduancement of his Church.

VII. FOR being to dedicate a Church at Malsen, in the Countie [Page 209] of Teisterband, vppon the riuer Linghen, a yong gentleman called Splinter van Andengin, desiring out of curiositie to see the rites, and ceremonies which the Christians vsed in the dedication of Chur­ches, and chiefly to see SWIBERT their bishop, of whom he had heard such wonders, coming ouer the riuer Rhene fell by chaunce out of the boate & drowned, leauing both the shores full of the fruitlesse la­mentations and teares of his fellowes, and seruants, that dolefully bewayled their losse. The same day about noone, he was taken vp by certaine fishers, and brought as dead as a hearing, to Duerstat, to the sorowfull house of his vnconsolable parents, who through the perswasion of their Idolatrous Priests caused him to be carried to the Temple of Mars, trusting that he could cure the wound giuen by Neptune: and to that end they besought his warlik power, with The God mars cal­led vppon in vaine. manie sacrifices, to restore the yong man to life; but all in vaine. Which his father perceauīg, & cōsidering that their poore Gods were not wont to bestow guifts of life soe liberally, he was perswaded by some deuout Christians, to entreate B. SWIBERT to come to his ay de, who was the likelier to prooue, a better Aduocate in his behalf, in that matter of life and Death. To him thereforē he went, and falling at his feet, he began to open his miserie; when a floud of teares soe stopt the current of his discourse, that in them and his sighs the whole force of his eloquence seemed to consist. But the holy Bishop S Swib. en­treated to ralsea dead mā, refuseth. gathering his meaning out of that dolefull speech, was very vnwil­ling to vndertake a matter of soe great presumption: till ouer­come with the weeping rhetorick of his importunitie, & the prayers of Werenfride, and Marcellin his fellowes, he went with him, whom an infinite multitude of poeple stood expecting on the banks of the Riuer Rhene. When entring the village Duerstat, the dolefull mother of the drowned youth, carried beyond all degrees of sorrow, ranne to meet him, and falling at his feet in the midst of the street, cried out: O seruant of the true God helpe me, and reuiue my sonne by the power of thy God, for our Gods are all too weake to doe it. S. SWIBERT applying a salue of comfort to the deepe wound of her so­row went to the house where the dead bodie was layd: and com­maunding his fellow-disciples to fall hartily to their prayers, he allso betooke him self earnestly to his, in the midst of that weeping, multitude of poeple, and trembling Flamins of the Pagans. His [Page 210] prayer ended he arose, and putting his whole confidence in our Lord IESVS-CHRIST, he sayd; O thou only comforter of our sadnes, who didest once affirme with thy sacred mouth; whosoeuer beleeueth Ioan. 14. v. 12, in me the works that I doe, he allsoe shall doe, and greater then these he shall doe; voutchafe to shew the power of thy Diuinitie, in raysing this man from death to life. And taking him by the hand he sayd: [...] He rayseh a dead man to life the name of our Lord IESVS-CHRIST crucified, I bid thee rise, and liue, and prayse thy creatour. At these words he that before was dead, opened his eyes, and waking, as it were, out of a profound sleepe, he arose; and embracing the holy Sainct, cried out with great sighs; there is noe other God in heauen and earth but IESVS­CHRIST crucified whom SWIBERT preacheth. O the wonderfull life of this blessed Sainct, whose prayers banished death from the bodie of an other, and spoiled hell of its pray. And presently all the be­holders, much astonished with the noueltie of this great miracle, hi­ghly extolled the diuine pietie, with loud shouts of ioy, and thanks­giuing, that daigned to ennoble his seruant with soe miraculous a remonstrance of his goodnes. And the Heathen Priests togeather with the parents of the new reuiued youth, and a great multitude of poeple renouncing the errours of Idolatrie, beleeued in IESVS­CHRIST; soe that there were baptised 126. persons besides woemen, and children. When soe great a noise, and clamour was raysed in 126. per­sons con­uerted. the street by the Pagans that desired to see the newly reuiued yong man, that S. SWIBERT (compelled therevnto for the greater ho­nour and glorie of God) lead him out amongst them in his hand, as a liuing trophie of his owne vertue, to be seene of all that pressing multitude of poeple; who when they beheld him walking in the street, with lowd shoutes, and cries, they made the heauens resound with the Ecchos of these words. Great is the God of the Christians. and manie beleeued in CHRIST the worker of miracles, through the per­swasion of the holie Bishop, and had their soules reuiued in the sa­cred font of baptisme. With whom S. SWIBERT remayned a good while feeding, and confirming the weakenes of their fayth, with the solid foode of his learning, till the whole village of Duerstat was throughly conuerted to the truth.

VIII. IN the meane time S. WILLIBRORD ordayned Bishop of Fri­zeland by the speciall authoritie of Pope Sergius, returned from Rome, [Page 211] and placed his episcopall sea in the towne of Ʋtreight, in a Cathe­drall Church of Benedictin Monks-Canons; dedicated to S. MARTIN Willibrord Bishop of Vtreight. Bishop of Tours, vnto whom the Benedictines were allwaies peculiar­ly deuoted. And Radbod king of Frizeland being dead, the two holy Bishops obtained greater libertie publickly [...]opreach the ghospell of CHRIST throughout the whole coūtrey, whereby their holy labours tooke soe good effect, that the coūtie of Teisterbād, allmost all Hollād, & a great part of neather Friseland, were awaked out of the sleeping blindnes of Idolatrie to behould the cleere light of CHRISTS holy ghospell. Which done, and all those parts well grounded, and setled in the Catholick fayth, S. SWIBERT tooke leaue of S. WILLIBRORD & all the Church of Vtreight, & went with some others to spread the seed of the ghospell in Westphalie, and lower Saxonie, where he reduced manie from the madnes of Paganisme to the sweet peace of Christs Church, destroying as he went all Idols, & erecting Christian Chur­ches, out of their ruines. And hither vnto he had for his companion B. Marcellin the authour of his life, who now returned back into Fri­zeland, whē S. Swibert went on to Minimigard, now called Mounster, S Swibert cureth the Palsey, and Squinancie where preaching allsoe the Cath. fayth with his accustomed zeale and feruour, he conuerted manie therevnto, and cured a woman in the same towne that had bin long sick of a most cruell palsey. And in memorie of the fact, the same woeman built a chappell hard by her house in honour of S. PAVL the Apostle, on whose feast she was hea­led. Likewise he restored to health an other named Adelbert that lay mortally sick of a disease, called the Squinancie, or swelling in the throate, whereby he and manie others were conuerted to the fayth. Afterwards returning againe to Mounster, at the earnest request of the poeple of that towne, by the way he gaue sight to a blind man with the signe of the holy crosse, that asked almes of passengers; All his miracles still encreasing the number of the Christian flock.

IX. HAVING within a short time conuerted manie infidels in Mounster, he went into Saxonie, and first at the cittie of Brunswick, he preached, and conuerted manie. In the same towne there was a noble man sick of soe cruell a disease in his lest side, that he was not able to mooue hand or foote of that part of his bodie, nor had anie vse of his left eye. His sicknes had allreadie giuen the Note the vertue of the holy Crosse. foile to all antidotes, and art of phisick, when S. SWIBERT [Page 212] with the signe of the holy Crosse (the chief armes of our redem ption) restored him to perfect health againe: which miracle cau­sed manie to forsake their Idolatrie, and hasten to be washed in the sacred fōt of Baptisme. Herevppō the blind ministers of those blind Gods, were exceedingly incensed against the holy Bishop, and as­sembling the poeple togeather went with a great troupe of Pagans to the chief officer of the towne, complayning and exclayming, that vnlesse the publick enemie of their Gods, who with witchcraft and sorcerie seduced the poeple, were banished, the whole towne would fall from their auncient profession, and perish. But the officer, being allied to the noble man before cured by S. SWIBERT, fauored him, and his proceedings in all things: and now perswaded him to saue him self from their furie by flight. Which he did (leauing one Priest there to confirme the new Christians in their fayth) and trauelled him self through diuers prouinces, still houlding on his course of preaching, conuer­ting, and baptising. Till at length the Heathens togeather with S Swib cruelly beaten by the Pagans. their hellish ministers, perceauing their religion to goe downe by the preaching of this holy man, ranne violently vppon him one day as he was in his sermon, and cruelly beate him with staues, and buffetted and kicked him, with their fists, and heeles, that had he not been relieued by the valour of some true hearted Christians, he had been likely inough to haue perished in that skirmish of crueltie. But being deliuered out of their hands, he lay hid for some few daies yet not ceasing from his holy trade of preaching, soe that dayly more and more stray sheep, were brought into the secure fold of CHRISTS Church.

X. AT THE same time, in a towne called Welsenberch, liued a rich and potent man named Ethelhere, who before had been one of the first and forwardest to sett vppon S. SWIBERT with his staffe, and now for his punishment was hideously possessed by the de­uill, He deline­reth a pos­sessed per­son. that dayly most cruelly tormented him, and by him, all that came nigh, soe that they were constrayned to bind him fast in chaines of iron. But saint SWIBERT coming thither at the intreatie of his friends, made the signe of the holy Crosse vppon him, and presently that hellish Monster was disinheri­ted of his desired habitation. Wherevppon it came to passe, that [Page 213] both he, and manie more, to the number of fortie two besides woe­men, and children, demaunding pardon for their former iniuries, submitted them selues to the sweet yoake of CHRISTS glospell, and were baptised. And now this glorious sainct hauing for the space of manie yeares preached CHRIST to these Barbarous poeple, wrought manie miracles to confirme what he preached, destroyed their Idols, and built manie Churches for the seruice of allmightie God, com­pelled partly by reason of warre, and tumult raysed in that countrey, but chiefly mooued by diuine reuelation, he retired him self to the cittie of Cullen, where he was ioyfully entertayned by the vertuous Heretire [...]h him self to Cullen. Dutchesse Plectrude, wife to the Christian Prince Pepin, who highly honouring, and admiring the venerable Sainctitie, and vertue of S. SWIBERT, detayned him with her for some time, to make vse of his pious counsell in the guyding of her owne soule. During which time, the holy Sainct cured a great man of Duke Pepins, of a dan­gerous, and mortall disease in the throate: and deliuered an other that was cruelly possessed with the deuill. These, and other his ex­cellent signes of heauenly sainctitie, mooued the religious Dutchesse Plectrude to send him with letters of high commendation to Duke Pepin, then remayning in Herstall, intreating him withall to giue the towne of Werdt vppon Rhene to S. SWIBERT, to build a monasterie in. Pepin receiued him with great ioy, and honour, and kept him a Pepin be­steweth words vp­pon S. Swibert. while with him to be by him instructed in the rules of good life. And at length, gaue him not only the towne of Werdt, but allsoe good store of gold, and siluer to defray the charge of building the mona­sterie. Therefore S. SWIBERT returned back to the Dutchesse, by whose power, and industrie he began presently to erect a monaste­rie in Werdt vppon Rhene, to the honour of the glorious, and euer B. Virg. MARIE. Where with how great humilitie, deuotion, and zeale, in the meane time he preached the fayth of CHRIST among those rude poeple, and with how great puritie of mind, and bodie, he celebrated dayly the dreafull Sacrifice of Masse, and other di­uine offices, it excelleth this weake quill to rehearse. And there he raysed an other from death to life.

XI. AT length the monasterie being finished, he placed therein a He gathe­reth a cō ­uēt of Be­nedictin monks. Cōuent of Monks of the Sacred Order of S. BENEDICT out of whose holy rule him self (as is sayd) had first sucked the sweet milke of a [Page 214] religious life. But in the beginning (because it was to consist cheefly of Nouices both in fayth, and vertue, that came thither mooued with the great fame of his Sainctitie to be brought vp in the right way of good life) he was not soe strict, and rigorous) in prescribing them the lawes of regular discipline, following the words of our Saui our: My yoake is sweet, and my burden light. But him self with certaine other old beaten disciples of his, led a farre more Math. 11. rigid, and austere kind of life, thereby to draw the yong beginners by litle, and litle, to the same straightnes of monasticall discipline. In the meane time S. SWIBERT ceased not dayly to preach to those rude stiffe-nekt people, whereby maine were conuerted to the fayth, and baptised. He was wonderfully inclined to giue almes, a great con­temner of worldly pompe, & vanities with hope of eternall rewards, his mind was aspiring in nothing but to the loue of God, the king­dome of heauen, and heauenly things; and therefore he was specially endowed by God with so manie diuine guifts, vertues, and graces, whereby he appeared most gratefull to the whole world, and shined as a pretious gemme amidst his monasticall clergie. And as among the Gentils he wrought famous deeds for the aduancement of the holy Ghospell, our lord him self cooperating, and confirming his speech with Mar. 16. signes (of diuers miracles) following; soe likewise in his monasterie at Werdt he worthyly profitted both him self, and others in the con­tinuall exercise of monasticall rule, and discipline, dayly proceeding from vertue, to vertue, to come to the cleere vision of the God of Gods in Sion. Psal. [...]3. v. 7. At length when he had most worthyly gouerned his monasterie the space of three yeares, allmightie God the superabundant reward of his seruants, who through a corporall death translateth the liuely stones of his Church to his heauenly building, voutchafed to call this glorious champion of the Catholick fayth S. SWIBERT, out of this He falleth sick. earthly conflict, to receiue the euerflorishing crowne of his labours in heauen. For in the yeare of our lord 717. replenished with all manner of vertues, and good workes, burning from the verie bot­tom of his heart with an extreme desire to enioy the vision of all­mightie God, on the feast of S. PETERS chayre in Februarie, hauing celebrated the dreadfull sacrifice of the Altar, he was taken with a grieuous disease, which confined him to his bed; and feeling it dayly grow more, and more vppon him, he assembled his Conuent of [Page 215] Monks togeather, & with a dieing voyce admonished them to re­mayne in the true obseruance of mutual loue, and charitie, and of monastical and regular discipline, letting them know withall that the hower of his departure was neere at hand. Which words, caused a showre of teares to beare witnes in them, how dearly they loued, and what a greef is was to them to be separated from soe good and pious a Father. But he cheering them vp, sayd; They ought ra­ther to reioyce then weepe for that he was goeing to receaue the most glorious reward of his labours, desiring them to arme the de­parture of his frailtie with the charitable dutie, and protection of their prayers. At length the happie hower being come, he cau­sed masse to be celebrated before him, encompassed round with his holy monks, and strengthening him self with the sacred viaticum of His happy death. our Lords bodie, he gaue his benediction to all the assistance, and in a sweet sleepe of death, gaue vp his blessed soule into the hands of his creat our. His face seemed presently to shine with beames of glorie, and the chamber was replenished with most sweet, and comforta­ble perfumes, to the great ioy, and admiration of the assistants. He died in the threescore and ninth yeare of his age, the first day of March, being friday, at noone, the same hower that the Sauiour of the world reuiuing vs sinners with his bitter death and passion, layd open the gates of heauen vnto vs.

XII. HIS holy bodie being placed in the midst of the Church, Miracles at his dead bo­die. whilst the monks executed his funerall office, one possessed with the deuill, by touching the biere whereon he lay, was perfectly de­liuered from that hellish guest. And by the same meanes, and at the same time, a blind man recouered his sight, and one that was quite madd was restored to the perfect vse of his senses, to the great ioy, and comfort of the beholders. The sunday following with great deuotion and solemnitie his sacred bodie was committed to a house of clay, by S. WILLIBRORD Archbishop of Vtrieght, and S. WILLEICK his companion, in the Church of his owne Monasterie at Werdt. Manie other miracles done at his tōbe are very authentically recor­ded by S. MARCELLINE, which for breuities sake me omitt. Only one I will briefly rehearse, of which, (as of all that hath been sayd) the same authour S. Marceline was an eye-witnesse.

XIII. A YONG man of Werdt called Sweder chancing to dine in the [Page 216] companie of some wicked Westphalians at a Pag [...] towne named S [...], the whole discourse of those bacon-fed Wes [...]phalians grew to be of the generous power of their Pagan-Gods, and the impotencie of CHRIST the God of the Christiās, which Sweder, who was a Christian not able to endure, very honestly began to rehearse in his defence the vertues, and miracles which our Lord had, wrought & did daily worke at Werdt by the merits of S. SWIBERT. The Pagans (whose heads were now a litle too full of the vertues, and strength of their God Bacchus) finding Sweder to be a Christian, rose vp in great furie against him, and hauing with manie blowes layd on his back, and sides, made him feele some part of the strength their gods had giuen them, they cutt out his tongue, that had been soe nimble in pray­sing the God of the Christians, hoping thereby to gett them selues crownes of baies from their owne Gods. This done, they returned Diuers strucken blind for biasphe­mie. in iouiall triūph to their dinner, where as in their winie conference they vomitted manie opprobrious blasphemies against CHRIST, and his holy Bishop S. SWIBERT, they were suddenly strucken with blin­dnes, and the loaues of bread before them (which they could not see) were turned into soe manie stones. Whilst poore Sweder, the enemie of their gods, lay as a miserable creature in the durtie streets, wal­lowing in his owne bloud, being not able (for want of a tongue) to call for anie helpe in his miserie; but in heart he deuoutly prayed vnto S. SWIBERT for the conu [...]rsion of those blasphemous Heathens: who now finding (but not seeing) that the r [...]uengfull God of the Christians had giuen them a remembrance of his power, they began with repentant teares to call vppon S. SWIBERT for ayde, desiring withall to haue the poore Christian, whom soe roughly they had handled, to be brought in, to demaund of him pardon for their fault. But noe man gaue eare to their crying, all the seruants of the house running out like soe manie madd things, terribly amazed at such an vnusuall accident. And the captaine blasphemer of all the Host, blinded not only in corporall sight, but in mind too, began to curse both God, and man. This miracle published by the clamours of that blind companie, drew all the neighbours, and a great part of the cittie thither to be spectatours of that miraculous tragedie. At length some friends of the Host tooke vp poore Sweder out of the durt, and brought him before that blinded crew. When it was a rare spectacle [Page 217] to behold seauen blind men (for soe manie they were) fall downe vppon their knees, and with blind teares craue pardon of him, whom them selues had made soe dumb that by word of mouth he could not answer their petition, but by signes; and by signes he did: withall perswading them by writting to forsake their Idolatrie, and vse meanes to goe along with him to Werdt, where at S. SWIBERTS Are resto­red to sight at S. Swi­berts? Tōb. tombe they should vndoubtedly recouer theyr former sight. On the morrow they tooke their iourney towards Werdt, in a waggon, accompained with the Hosts wife, and some of his kinsfolks, who brought with them the loaues turned into stones. Being all come to the holy tombe, Sweder made a mentall prayer to the holy sainct, recommending him self, and those wretched soules to his pietie. Vnto whom (as he prayed) S. SWIBERT visibly appeared, and an­nointing his mouth with a strainge oyntment, he perfectly recoue­red him to his speech, most deuoutly breaking out into the lowd prayses of allmightie God, and his Sainct. When the blind men heard the yong man speak, and prayse SWIBERT for the recouerie of his language they began to conceaue greater confidence to haue their cause heard, and therefore earnestly imploring the help of CHRIST, and his blessed Sainct, presently they had their fight mira­culously restored, to the great ioy and admiration of their friends that were present. The loaues of bread, or rather the stones of bread, they left at the sepulcher in memorie of the miracle, as trophies of SWIBERTS glorie. And they them selues, staying there three daies, were conuerted to the fayth, and baptised, and by that meanes cured of a double blindnes. But returning to their owne towne againe, their cl [...]ere seeing, was cause that manie Pagans were made to see their owne blindnes, and for [...]ake their Idolatrie. God graunt that this example may soe withold our dayly contemners, of Gods Saincts from their wicked practise of blasphemie, that seeing their owne er­rours, they may gi [...]e due honour to God, and his Saincts, in whom he is allwaies glorious, and wonderfull. Amen.

In the yeare of our lord 803. S. SWIBERT was canonized by Pope Leo the third then present in person at Werdt, and eye-witnesse of some miracles done, togeather with the Emperour Charles the Great, who gaue manie rich guifts vnto the monasterie. And the feast of his Canonization and exaltation of his holy bodie, is celebrated in [Page 218] Germanie on the fourth day of September. Besides the foresayd S. MAR­CELINE, S. LVDGER Bishop of Mounster in an epistle written to RIXFRID Bishop of Ʋtreieght, maketh worthy mention of S. SWIBERT, and reciteth manie miracles done at his tombe. All [...]oe S. BEDE lib. [...]. c. [...]. TRITHEMIVS of the famous men of S. BENEDICTS order 3. book. chap. 165. BARONIVS tom. 8. & 9. HARPSFIELD saec. 8. cap. 4. the ROMAN Martirologe, and others d [...]e largely speake his prayses.

The life of Sainct DAVID Bishop and Confessor.
MAR. 1. Written by Kenti­gerne Bis­hop.

S. DAVID borne of the noble race of auncient Brittanes, and vncle to famous Prince Arthur; was reuealed vnto S. PATRICK A­postle of Ireland thirtie yeares before his birth. Being brought vp from his infancie in pietie, and learning, he was a child of soe great towardnes, that he farre excelled all his fellowes in both. His masters were S. ILTVTE, and one Pauline both famous▪men in vertue, and learning; whose footstepps, like a good scholler, were soe faythfully imitated by this worthy youth that he not only paraleld them, but in his time went far beyond them both in the discipline of diuine religion, and secular learning. He kepp close in the studie of holie His studie of holy scripture. scripture for the space of tenne year [...]s before he would presume to make him self publick to the world, in the instructiō of others. When at length, like a fayre ship laden with the balast of a well grounded vertue, and fraught with the treasure of admirable knowledge, and learning, he floted with full sayles ouer the world, with the fauoura­ble wind of great fame, and renowne; dayly manuring the sacred vineyard of our lord, and sounding the hearts of his people, with the feruent, and florishing eloquence of his exhortations, and sermons. By which and his v [...]matchable pietie, he vtterly ruined, dissolued, He vanqui­sheth the Pelagian horesie. and extinguished the rebellion of the Pelagian heresie, which in tho­se dayes began to take head, & cleerly purged all the stinking dregs, and corruption thereof, out of the hearts of that people. That we may boldly say he was sent into this world by the particular proui­dence [Page 219] of allmightie God, whoe allwaies hath care of his faythfull flock, to be such a Pastour thereof, who with his admirable, and allmost incredible workes, and miracles should preserue, and deliuer his Church, from the diabolicall infection of this pestiferous he­resie.

II. Amongst other worthy schollers, and followers of his lear­ning, and vertue, the most famous were these Saincts▪ Aidan, Pater­nus, and Th [...]lian, whoe endeauoured as farre as they were able, to perfect them selues by his holy manner of life, & vertues. With these he trauelled ouer the countrey, allwaies preaching, and teaching the poeple as he went. He built manie monasteries, for the habitation of such as desired to liue a more retired life. At the place now called Glastenburie, he built a Church new from the ground. And coming He built Glasteubu­rie Church thence to Bath, he cured the infection of the waters thereabouts, and with his holy prayers, and benediction gaue them a perpetuall hea­te, and made them verie healthfull, a [...]d souueraigne for manie di­seases euer after, as to this present day is experienced, to the won­derfull comfort, and commoditie of all England. Coming at length with his cōpanie, which was no small one, to Me [...]e [...]ia in Pembrookshi­re, he began to build a monasterie in that place, farre frō all worldly tumults, meaning to make it his principall abode whilst he remay­ned in this mortall life. But the deuill, who from the beginning was an enuious hinderer of monks, and monasteries, stirred vp a wicked member of his, a Tiran of that countrey called Baia, with A Tiran plotteth his death. his complices, to putt the holy man, and his companie to death. And by the way as they went to the execution of this mischief, he and his fellowes were suddenly shaken with such cruell feauers, that they were not able to performe theyr wicked intentions. When in the meane time, the wife of this ring leader of mischief, comes crying after them with newes of greater miserie; that an in­fectious disease was suddenly fallen among their cattle, which killed them soe fast, that she feared, yf some ayd were not gotten, they should quickly haue more emptie hides then beasts. Wherevppon, they resolued to returne to the seruant of God, and humbly to Who [...] stly puni­shed. implore his assistance, both for them selues, and their cattle. Which done, they obtained their desire, and in recompence, and acknow­ledgment of that benefitt, the Tiran gaue vnto S. DAVID all th [...]t [Page 220] Valley where the Cathedrall Church of Menenia now standes, for the vse of him, and his fellowes, and successors for euer.

III. BVT THIS Tirans wife could not soe soone depose her malice, for meaning with a deuilish practise to ruine the chastitie of those poore monkes, she sent a lasciuious companie of naked wenches, to exercise all manner of vnciuill embracings, and wan­ton actions in their sight, which made some of their minds be­ginne to stagger with soe euident a temptation, others, to be a little troubled, and indeed all being impatient of such an immodest iniurie, cried out vnto sainct DAVID to be gone out of the fight, and reach of soe foule a sight. You know (replied the holy man) that the world hates vs. And you must know allsoe A good lesson. that the poeple of ISRAEL trauelling to the land of Promise with the holy Arke of couenant, were resisted with continuall dan­gers, and battles, and yet not ouercome, but through all their iour­ney, remayned victorious ouer that incircumcised poeple, which doeth manifestly betoken the triumph we must haue in these our conflicts. For he that seeketh to enioy the promise of the heauenly Paradise, the true land of Promise, must necessarily be assayled, but not vanquished, with the battrie of temptations, and aduersities vntill by the assistance of CHRIST his chief Captaine, he shall vtterly haue ruined, and ouerthrowne all the vncleane bullwarkes of vice, and inquitie. Therefore we must not be ouercome with euill, but ouer­come euill with goodnes, for yf CHRIST he with vs, who dare stand against vs? Be valiant then (my deare brethren) in this conflict, and let not our enemies take ioy in your flight.

IV. HAVING thus encouraged their mindes, he built vp the mo­nasterie, He buildeth a Monaste­rie. and ordered it with good lawes, and rules of monasticall discipline. Where euerie one liued by the labour of his owne hands, rightly following that Aposticall rule, He that will not labour, let him 2. Thes. c. 3 v. 10. The man­ner of life of the aun­cient Mon­kes. not eate. And after their labour, at sett howers they fell to their. prayers, meditations, and reading of holy Scripture: which done, againe they fetled to their labours, neuer tasting anie foode till the starres appeared in the skie, when their ordinarie diet, was soe farre from all delights, that only bread, herbes, and pure water were the chiefest dainties, which quenched their hunger, and thirst. After a sleight refreshing herewith, they returned againe to their prayers, [Page 221] then to their rest, whence they were raysed at the first crowing of the Cock, and prolonged their prayers vntill the morning, when with the rising of the sunne, all betooke them selues to their day­labour. By this meanes they gaue the world not only a worthie proofe, and example of all manner of vertue, and continencie, but allsoe of liberalitie. For allthough they would not take anie thing giuen them, but with much difficultie, yet were they soe farre from want of necessaries, that by their owne labour, and toile, they suc­coured the necessities of verie manie poore orphans, pupills, wid­dowes, and pilgrims. In summe, in their manner of liuing, they were liuely paternes of the Apostolical life of those auncient fathers, which liued at Alexandria vnder the institution of S. MARK the Euangelist.

V. S. DAVID was the gouernour, and President of this holy companie, not only in authority, and dignitie, but by his owne due deserts; For he would impose nothing vppon others which him self refused to vndergoe. Nay by how much he was aboue them in dignitie, by soe much he excelled them all, in the greatnes, and continuance of diligence, continence, fasting, and prayers and the most exact obseruance of all religious offices, and du­ties. S. Dauid chosen Archbis hop of the Britaines. After mattins whē the rest of his Monks returned to their beds, hiscustō was to enter into the cold water, to extinguish the vnlawfull heate of his body. At length, the excellence of his vertues being car­ried ouer the world with the wings of fame, by the commō suffrages of the countrey he was chosen Archbishop of all Wales: and soe great honour bestowed vppon him, that the Metropolitan sea, which till then had been at Chester, was for his sake translated to Menenia, now called Sainct Dauids. In this dignitie he beha­ued him self soe worthyly, that he became a rule, and forme of good life to all. He was the foode of the poore, the life of orphanes, cloath to the naked, the Schoole of the ignorant a Father to his countrey, and an Example to his monkes.

VI. THE miracles which he wrought in his life were such and soe admirabler that the incredulitie of these our times doeth not deserue to heare or reade them; and therefore we will only relate one, which is, that as he preached vppon a time against the Pelagians abrod vnder noe other canopie but heauē, such an infinite of poeple [Page 222] were gathered to heare his sacred eloquence, that the holy preacher could not bee seene but of a few, on a sudden the earth whereon he stood swelled vpp in forme of a little hill, and raysed him to such a height, that to the wonderfull great comfort and admiration of his auditors, he was both seene, and heard of then all. And in memorie hereof a little chappell was built vppon the same hill, which is sayd to remayne vnto these our daies.

VI. AT LENGTH this blessed Bishop the great patrone, and Pro­tectour His glo­rious death. of the Britans, hauing gouerned his Church manie yeares in great sainctitie, and vertue of life, till he came to the age of one hundred fortie seauen yeares, & thē vnderstanding by reuelation the day & hower of his departure out of this world, from that time he euer liued in the Church in continuall prayer and preaching vntill that long desired happie minute was come in which he yielded vp his blessed soule into the hands of his redeemer, who togeather with whole quires of angels, came in person happyly to receaue him, and gloriously to leade him, into the neuer dying ioyes of his heauenly Kingdome. He was buried at Meneuia in his owne Church, which allthough at first it was dedicated to the Apostle saint AN­DREW, yet afterwards, by reason of the great fame this sainct had in those places, and soe manie wonderfull miracles and signes of holines, it tooke the name of S. DAVIDS, as it is called at this ve­rie day. He died about the yeere 550. the first day of March, which day not only in Wales, but all England ouer, is most famous in me­morie of him. But in these our vnhappie daies the greatest part of his solemnitie consisteth in wearing of a greene leeke, & it is a sufficiēt theame for a zealous VVelchman to ground a quarrell against him, that doeth not honour his capp with the like ornament that day.

VII. THE miracles which were wrought by his meritts, after his death are such, & soe manie, that they farre exceed the limitts of this short discourse: we will only relate some, which haue the testimonie of an eye-witnesse to prooue them true. In the raigne of King Stephen Gyrald. Cambr. in Topogr. Camb. I [...]uers mi­racles. the brooke which runnes aboue the Church-yarde of Meneuia, or S. DAVIDS, flowed with wine: and the same time, out of a Well or fountaine there, called Pisteldewy, that is, the Conduit of Dauid, sprang forth a great quantitie of milke. And this is reported by him, [Page 223] that liued at the fame time, and most exactly was acquanited with the matters of that countrey. A litle portable bell called S. DAVIDS, Note a strange miracle. was of great fame and admiration in VVales: which when the soul­diers presumed to retaine at the Castle of Raidnock, contrarie to the desire of a woman that brought it, suddenly the night following the whole towne was deuowred with fier, the wall only excepted where that bell was hanged. A boy that endeauoured to take yong pigeons out of a nest in S. DAVIDS Church of Lhanuaos, had his fingers soe fastened to the stone, that he could by noe meanes gett loose. All much amazed at this miracle, specially his parents and friends, who togeather with the boy before the aultar of the same Church gaue them selues to continuall watching, fasting, and prayer the space of three dayes, & as manie nights; when to the great ioy of all, the stone fell from his hand. The Authour of this storie, not only liued at the same time, but both saw, and spake to the man to whom it hap­pened, who confessed him self that it was soe. And which is more, that stone being conserued in the Church, remayned as an euerla­sting witnes of the miracle, with the plaine forme of his fingers im­printed in it, as in a peece of waxe.

VIII. MANIE thousands of other miracles haue been wrought by the meritts of this holy man, both in his life, and after his death, which for breuities sake me omitt. And here now could I willingly enter into a large field of this holy Saincts prayses, did not feare of being ouer teadious withould my penne, as vnworthy to be the trū ­pett of the same of soe renowned a man. I will only desire all true hearted VVelchmen allwaies to honour this their great Patrone and Protectour and humbly desire him, that as in his life time, he ouer­threw with his learning all the bullwarkes of the Palagian heresie, soe now with his prayers, and intercession to allmightie God, he would supplicate the diuine Goodnes to cast a mercifull eye vppon his poeple, and reduce his sometimes beloued countrey, out of the Blindnes of Protestancie, groueling in which it languisheth more la­mentably, then euer it did in the former errour, that once againe those hills and valleies may resound with the Ecchoes of Gods di­uine prayses, sung in such monasticall quiers, as haue been the or­naments there of in former ages, and now are only the sad monu­ments of their auncient glorie. God of his infinite mercie, by the [Page 224] intercession of this glorious Sainct, giue strength to those few that are in the truth soe to remayne, and grace to the rest to acknow­ledge the same truth, and forsake their present errours. The life of S. Dauid was written by S. Kentigerne but whether the same be extant it is vncertaine. Ioannes Anglicus, and Giraldus Cambrensis, haue written the same allsoe, out of whom, and Nicholas Harpsfield me haue gathered the foresayd historie. Manie other authors make worthie mention of him.

The life of Sainct CHAD Bishop, and Confessor, of the holy order of S. BENEDICT.
MAR 2. Gathered out of Ve­nerable Bede de gest. Ang.

SAINCT CHADDE borne in Northumberland, brother to S. CEDDE Bishop of London (of whom you may reade the seauenth of Ja­nuary) was at first scholler vnto S. AIDAN Bishop of Lindisfarne, in whose vertuous schole he made a great progresse, in learning, and good manners, being allwaies verie carefull to execute in deed, whatsoeuer he learned by studie. In his youth he went into Jreland where tohgeather with S. EGBERT, he led a strict monasticall life in continuall continencie, exercising him self with great diligen [...] in the pious art of prayer, and meditation of the holy scripture Returning into England, (after that famous controuersie, betweeue S. WILFRID the Benedictine monk and Bishop Colman concerning the due celebration of Easter, and other Church-rites, was decided, to­geather with his brother S. CEDDE he receaued the rule of our holy father S. BENEDICT, and succeeded his brother in the gouernment of the Benedictine Abbey of Lesting in Yorke-shire. Which charge he discharged with great sainctitie, and example of good life, till in the yeare of our Lord 664. when S. WILFRID being chosen Bishop of Yorke, and sent into France to be consecrated by the Bishop of Paris, stayed soe long beyond the seas that Sainct CHADD, by the meanes of king Oswy, was consecrated; and installed in the Episcopall sea of Yorke, by the hands of Wini Bishop of the West-saxons, and the only He is cou­secrated Bishop of Yorke. Bishop lawfully ordayned Bishop extant then in England.

[Page 225] II. SAINCT CHAD being aduanced to this height of dignitie, began presently to make the pietie, and vertue of his life correspond to the eminencie of his sacred function, bending all his endeauours for the conseruing of the Ecclesiasticall veritie, and ordinances of the Catholick Church, and making his owne dayly exercise, a true patterne of deuotion, humilitie, and continencie, vnto his subiects. He was wont to read much, preach often, & trauell abrod (after the true Apostolicall manner) allwaies on foote from towne, and vil­lage, piously furnishing the whole countrey with the sacred doctrine of CHRISTS ghospel. At length, S. THEODORE being consecrated Archbishop of Canturbury, made a visitt ouer the Churches of En­gland, correcting as he went whatsoeuer he found amisse, when amongst the rest he chanced to rebuke S. CHAD as not lawfully consecrated. See the wonderfull humilitie of the Sainct! If thou His great humilitie. knowest (answeared he verie modestly) that I haue not rightly vn­dertaken the bishoprick, I most willingly giue vp my office, for in­deed I allwaies iudged my self farre vnworthie thereof, and it was meere obedience which forced mee at first to take this sacred charge vppon mee. But THEODORE being ouercome with the resigned humilitie of this answeare, replied that it was not necessarie to leaue his bishoprick, but only to haue his installement approoued after the Catholick manner. But S. CHAD after three yeares gouernment of that sea, being more desirous of a priuate, and quiet life, resigned vp the Bishoprick vnto S. WILFRID, and returned againe to his be­loued solitude, in the monasterie of Lesting, where he remayned in the continuall exercise of pietie, till Wulser King of the Mercians desiring the assistance of a Bishop in his countrey, Theodore of Cantur­bury, He is made Bishop of the mer­cians who would not graunt him a new one, obtained of Oswy King of the Northumbers to haue S. CHAD sent into Mercia. And be­cause it was all waies S. CHADS custom (as we haue sayd) to trauell on foote to preach, and teach the ghospell, S. THEODORE finding him to be a verie holy man, commaunded him hereafter to performe his longer iourneyes on horseback, and he him self lifted him on his horse, and forced him, (who out of the desire and loue of his pious labour on foote, made great resistance) to ride where soeuer his oc­casions should call him.

III. BEING therefore installed in the bishoprick of the Mercians, [Page 226] and Lindisfarne, he endeauoured according to the example of the auncient fathers, and masters of vertue, to administer his office with admirable great perfection of life, and example. The King Wulfere admiring the sainctity of the mā, gaue him in the prouince of Lindis­farne or Lincolne the lands, & possessions of fiftie families, for the ere­cting of a monasterie. He held his episcopall seate at Lichfied, where, for his owne priuate vse, he built a place not farre distant from the Church, in which togeather with seauen or eight of his monkes, he was wont more secretly and earnestely to exercise him self in deuout prayer, meditation, and reading holy scripture, at such times as his ordinarie imployments and labour of preaching, and diuine seruice did giue him leaue. But amongst manie other his notable examples of A notable example. vertue, and pietie, he bore in heart such a liuely impression of the feare of God, (which the royall prophet cals, the beginning of wise­dom) Psal. 110. v. 9. & was in all his workes soe mindfull of the terrible & dread­full day of iudgement, that whensoeuer there arose a more vehe­ment, and violent blast of winde, and tempest, he would straight fall most earnestly to his prayers: and yf the storme were such that it were accompanied with the terrour of boisterous thunder, or lightning, he would instantly gett into the Church, and neuer cease from praying, and reading of psalmes, vntill the heauens were clee­red from those tempestuous commotions. Being demaunded the Psal. 17. v 15. 16. A good Lesson. reason hereof: Haue you not read (answeared he) that our Lord hath thundred frō heauē, & the most high hath sent forth his voyce: He threw his darts, and dispersed the people; he redoubled his lightnings, and troubled them. For our Lord shaketh the ayre, stirreth vp winds, darteth light­nings, and thunderbolts from heauen, to stirre vp mortals to feare him, to giue them a remembrance of his dreadfull iudgment to come; that he may ouerthrow their pride, confound their presump­tion, by putting them in mind of that terrible hower, wherein, heauen and earth being on fier, he will come with mightie power; and maiestie to iudge the liuing and the dead. It is our parts there­fore to correspond to these his heauenly admonitions, with the du­tie of feare, and loue; that as often as, by such violent commotions of the ayre, and heauens, he lifteth vp his threatning hand to strike, and yet doeth not let fall his blow vppon vs, we ought straight humbly to implore his mercie, and by a diligent discussion of the [Page 227] secret closetts of our hearts, to purge them from all vncleannes of vice, lest at anie time we bee strucken vnawares. With these terrible remembrances did this blessed Sainct endeauour to sharpen the minds of his monkes, and other subiects, to giue them a great­er appetite to follow the sweete-hard way of vertue, and good workes.

IV. AT LENGTH when he had most gloriously gouerned his Bisho­prick for the space of two yeares, and a half, some daies before his holy departure out of this world, that happie minute was reuealed vnto him. For being one day alone in his oratorie, a holie monk of his called Owen heard a most rauishing consort of celestiall tunes The Vision of a cer­taine Monke. ouer and about the place where the Bishop prayed, whīch dured for the space of half an hower. After this the holy man opened his win­dow, and with a knock (as his custom was) called some from without vnto him. Owen, whose office it was to attend vppon him, entred into his chamber, whom he sent to call the rest of his bre­thren, who were but seauen. Then he admonished them faythfully to conserue the vertues of loue, and peace with one and other; and with an vntired diligence to follow and obserue the rules of regular The day of his depar­ture is re­ [...]led vnto him. discipline, which he had planted amōgst them. For (sayd he) the day of my departure is neere at hand, that beloued guest which was wont to visit our brethren, voutchafed allsoe this verie day to giue me, warning of my long desired end. Desire then the rest of our brethren to recommend my departure, in their prayers to allmightie God; all­waies remembring with fasting, prayer, and good workes to prepare themselues for their owne end, the time whereof is soe vncertaine. But the rest being departed out of the chamber, the holy monk Owen, who had seene, and heard the vision aboue mentioned, fell prostrat at the blessed Bishops feete, humbly entreating him to declare the meaning of those heauenly ditties, which that holy troupe of angels sung ouer his oratorie. Indeed (answeared he) those blessed spiritts came to summon me to the holy court of hea­uen, there to receaue the vnspeakeable rewards, which soe long I haue aspired vnto, and after seauen dayes are past; they haue pro­mised to returne to fetch me thither. But I commaunde thee in the name of our Lord, that thou presume not to reueale this vision before my death. And it fell out according to this reuclation, for the [Page 228] seauenth day after he yeelded vp his pure soule to the hands of his redeemer. At which verie instant one Egbert a monke saw S. CEDDE S. Cedde cometh in glory to mecte him. his brother incompassed with a blessed troupe of angels, descend from the celestiall vaultes, and carrie vp the vnspotted soule of this glorious Bishop, into the euerlasting ioies of the heauenly King­dom. He died the second day of, March, and was buried first neere to the Church of our Ladie, but afterwards, a Church being erected there to the Prince of the Apostles sainct PETER, his sacred bones were translated into it; in both which places for the greater testi­monie of his vertues manie, miraculous cures of diseases were wrought.

V. A MAD man, who lead by the lightnes of his frantick braine A mad man cureed at his tomb ranne wandring vp and downe, happened one euening (as it were to stūble happily on that place, vnawares of the watchmē that kept it, and hauing rested there all that night, in the morning, to the great admiration, and ioy of all, he made knowne by the soundnes of his witt and vnderstanding, that he had there receaued the cure of his madding phrensie. The place of his buriall is inclosed with a wod­den chest, which hath a hole on the one side through which those that came thither for deuotion, were wont to reach forth some of the dust, and hauing dissolued it in water, it cured both man, and beast that drank it, of what disease soeuer they were infected. The life of this B. Sainct we haue gathered chiefly out of S. Bedes History of En­gland. Iohn Capgrane hath the same in his lines of English Saincts. Trithe­mius, in his treatise of the famous men of S. Benedicts order lib. 3. cap. 117. Ar­nould Wion, Baronius, Camden and others make worthie mention of him. In the Prouinciall Cōstitutions of England his feast is ordayned to be celebra­ted with nine lessons, and soe it was obserued in the Sarum Breuiarie. But since Breuiaries were made treason in England, all goodnes was banished the Psal. 150. v. 1. publick view of that vnhappie Countrey, and God (whom the Psalmist bids vs to praise in his Saincts) is depriued of his due honour, and glorie, and his Saincts are quite robbed of their part therein.

The life of Sainct WILLEICK Priest, and Confessor monck of the holy order of S. Benedict.
MAR. 2. Out of Marce­line in the life of S. Swibert.

S. WILLEICK borne in England went ouer into lower Germanie, S. Willeick a Monk-Canon of Vtteicht in low Ger­manie. where togeather wich S. SWIBERT, and other English Benedictine Monks he preached CHRISTS ghospell to the Pagans, and conuerted manie to the true fayth. He was one of the first Monk-Canons of the new Cathedrall Church of Vtrei [...]ght, where, he who had left the world with a pure intention, soe sincerely endeauoured to perfect him self in the seruice of CHRIST IESVS, that he appeared as a sweet vessell of vertues to the rest of his brethren. For from his youth he had liued allwaies with the great S. SWIBERT, in the continuall exercise of prayer, continencie, and meditation of the holy scriptures, euer striuing to make him self as pure wax, to receiue the impression, and seale of that worthie Saincts vertues. He was skillfull in holy scriptu­res, and well practised in the Latin, and Dutch tongue: verie clo­quent in his discourse, but meeke, and humble in his behauiour, a conquerour of wrath, and couetousnes, a despiser of pride, and vaine glorie, and a comfortable father to the poore, and sickly. For whom carefully to prouide, he was inclined not only out of an innate pie­tie of mind, but made that appeare by his great labour, and paines taken in prouiding, and succouring their necessities him self. He con­uerted allsoe manie Heathens, through the Prouinces as he trauelled, from the venom of Idolatrie, to the sweetnes of CHRIST fayth.

II. AFTERWARDS being made Priour of S. SWIBERTS Benedictine monasterie at Werdt, he became a true mirrour, and paterne of all He is ma­de Priour of the Mo­nasterie of Werdt. true vertues to his brethren, whereby manie by his example, and au­thoritie, were curbed within the rules of a regular life. Neyther was he profitable with his vertues, and good example to the monasterie only, but by his deuout exhortations, and pious sermons, he con­uerted the neighbouring poeple from the sottish customs of their [Page 230] Idolatrous life, to the loue of CHRIST, & heauenly things. And the greatnes of his vertue, and meritt was testified by miracle. For being on a time at Cullen with the most deuout Dutchesse Plectrude (of whom mention is made in the life of S. SWIBERT) one Gothebald a chief man of the towne lay languishing vnder the pittilesse burden of such a cruell disease, that depriued of all vse of his limmes, he seemed indeed to be quite dead; when his funerall rites were allrea­die prepared, and his graue gaped to receiue him. In the meane time Marie (that was his wiues name) obtained of the Dutchesse to haue Willeick the disciple, and priest of great S. SWIBERT to come visitt He cureth a sickman. that diyng man. Who coming into the chamber; and hauing made his prayers to allmightie God, he gaue him his benediction; when presently the sick man arose in perfect health out of his bed, gaue thanks to the supreme giuer of all goodnes, and sate at table with the rest in great ioy, and alacritie, and S. Willeick (whose companie he much desired) could hardly be drawne from his deuotions of thanks giuing to take his repast with the rest. Herevppon the deuout Dutchesse Plectrude held this holy man in farre greater honour, and esteeme, thē before, yeelding infinite prayses to the omnipotent wor­ker of wonders. But S. WILLEICK, hauing gouerned his monasterie His death. the space of thirteene yeares in all, tenne after the death of his master S. SWIBERT, in great holines of life and conuersation, gaue vp his blessed soule to the neuer-dieing rewards of his labours, to beare a part in the quire of Benedictin Monks in heauen. He died the second day of March, in the yeare of Our Lord 727. At whose tombe in testimonie of his vertues, and holy life, were wrought maine mira­culous cures of diseases. Of him make mention, besides the foresayd Mar­celline, Trithemius in his 3. booke and 167. chap. of the famous men of S. Benedicts Order, Molanus in his additions to Vsuard, Wion in his Benedi­ctine Martirologe, and others.

The life of Sainct WINWALOKE Abbott, and Confessor.
MAR. 3. Gathered by Surius out of aū ­cient ma­nuscripts.

SAINCT WINWALOKE sonne to Fracanus cosen germane of Cotton king of the Brittaines, began from his tender age to giue greate signes of his ensuing vertue, and good life, despising the pleasures of the world, and wholly bequeathing him self to the diuine serui­ce of allmigthy GodHis desire of a deuout life.. And the better to put his good purposes, and pious inspirations in execution, he desired leaue of his father to goe to a holy man of that countrey, to perfect him self in that diuine schoole in the studie of vertue, and learning. But his father, who desired rather to see him aduanced to worldy preferment, and ho­nour, flatly denied his godly request. Wherevppon this blessed yong man appealed to his allmightie father in heauen, earnestly cra­uing his assistance in this case. And his prayers were not in vaine; for not long after his father being abrode in the plaine fields, in a sayre sunny day, on the suddaine there happened such a horrible tempest of rayne, hayle, and snow, seconded with the roaring of such dreadfull thunder, and flashes of lightning falling thick about him, that strucken with the exceeding terrour thereof, he fell flatt on the ground, where musing with him self what might be the reason of such an vnexpected storme, it came into his mind, that perhaps it was a punishment sent him from God aboue, for detayning his son­ne in the tempestuous world, out of the sweet hauen of his diuine His father giueth him to God. seruice. Herevppō he bequeathed him in his mind to allmightie God at the same instant, and within a weeke after, went him self in per­son, and presented him to the charge of a holy man to be instructed according to his owne desires. In that good schoole of vnited ver­tue, and learning, WINWALOKE profitted soe exceedingly, that in a short time he became verie learned in holie scripture, and most de­uout in the seruice of allmightie God.

II. HIS master happening to be absent vppon a time the schollers fell to sport, and recreate them selues in the fields, whereby some [Page 232] misfortune one of them chaunced to breake his legge, which turned By his prayers & the signe of the Crosse he cureth a broken thigh. all their mirth into morning, and their play into earnest condoling their fellowes vnhappines. But WINWALOKE, exhorting them to take courrage, and comfort, caused the whole companie to fall to their praiers for the repayring of this disastrous losse, & he him self hear­tily beseeched the omnipotent worker of wonders, to graunt this their humble request. Which done, he made the signe of the crosse on the wound, saying: In the name of our Lord IESVS-CHRIST, rise and giue thankes vnto allmightie God: and at the same instant he arose prefectly cured of his wound, and restored againe to the vse of his legge, as sound as he was before it was broken. WINWALOKE earnestly desired, and coniured his companions to conceale the mi­racle in silence, but the will of God was otherwise, whereby it was made knowne, and publick to the world, for the greater honour both of him, and his Sainct.

III. HE WAS soe wonderfully pittifull, & cōpassionate on the poore, His cōpas­sion to the poore. that when he saw them begge an almes, he would sigh, and weepe with the grief he suffered in their miserie, and not hauing wherewi­thall to feed their bodies, he would at lest with the comfort of his admonitions endeauour to enrich their soules, in which pious exer­cise he dayly employed some part of his time, allthough he wan­ted not some wicked spiritts, who spitefully reuiled, and reproched him for this pietie; saying, that he spent the best part of his time idly, amongst lazie beggers. But he tooke all their blowes on the buckler of patience, rendring, sweet wordes for their rude exclamations, and humble answeares for their insulting reproches. And meeting on a time, among those poore poeple, with one that was blind, to make knowne that his seruice was gratefull to God, by his prayers he re­stored him to perfect sight.

IV. HE grew at lenght soe perfect in vertue, and learning, that With hall­owed oyle he cureth on [...] stung with a ser­p [...]. from a scholler; he became a master, when manie were glad to putt them selues into his schoole, & vnder his discipline to learne the di­uine misteries of the holie scripture. One of his schollers falling asleepe in the fields, as he sate musing on his lesson, happrened to be soe greiuously stung by a venemous serpent, that the poison, disper­sing it self ouer all his bodie, caused it to swell in a most strange man­ner, and putt him in iminent danger of death. But WNIWALOKE, [Page 233] gining him oileto drinke which he him self had hallowed, the swelling was forthwith asswaged, the venom expelled, and the man perfectly cured. Not long after, he vnderstood by reuelation, that it was the will of allmightie God, that he should depart with some of his asso­ciates to liue in an other place. Therefore taking leaue of his master, he departed with eleuen others, not knowing as yet, where to take vp his dwelling, but with a firme fayth, and confidence in allmightie God, he committed him self, and his companie to his sacred con­duct. At length he arriued into an Iland, where togeather with his disciples for the space of three yeares, he led a verie retired, and so­litarie life. But finding that place to be verie subiect to stormie, and tempestuous weather, and withall soe barren that it was allmost in­habitable, he went to seeke an other habitation beyond the sea, whi­ther by a diuine reuelation he was appointed to goe; and there he found a place soe fitt, and commodious for his purpose, that he setled him self, and his fellowes therein, with intention neuer to stirre more while he liued. One discomoditie it had, which was want of water, but that his deuout prayers supplied, for the indeficient By his prayers he obtayneth a fresh foū tai [...]e. fountaine of all goodnes, that made water spring out of the rocks for the Jsraelites, furnished his Seruant in this necessitie, with an abun­dant spring of sweete cristall streames.

V. IN THIS place he beganne to leade a most celestiall, and ange­licall A summa­rie of his vertues. life, shining vnto his schollers like a bright starre of deuotion vertue, and perfection. He was of a verie venerable aspect, sweete, and modest in his discourse, allwaies paynfull, and vnwearied in the seruice of allmightie God; of a pure bodie, a sincere minde, a sharpe witt, a sound iudgement, and verie prouident, and wise in his aduise, and counsell: most firme, and constant in hope, and excellently per­fect in charitie. From the twentith yeare of his age, to the last hower of his life, he was neuer seene to fitt in the Church; noe man euer found him ether fondly merrie, or idly giuen to melancholy. He was mild, familiar, and courteous to all. In bodie he walked on earth, but his minde, and soule was allwaies fixed in heauen. His custom was to reade ouer the psalter of Dauid euery day, and to kneele in his prayers to God a hundred times a day, and as oft by night. His cloa­thing was poore, made of goate-skinnes, his bed hard, his diet only barley bread, and pottage of herbes. Saturdaies, & sundaies he added [Page 234] thereunto some small quantitie of fish, and a little ch [...]ese. In lent he eate but twise a weeke, he neuer dranke wine nor anie other li­quour He vanqui­sheth the Deuill with the signe of the Cros se. which might intoxicate the braine. The Deuill enuying soe great sainctitie, endeauoured with his hellish plotts to trouble, and molest his pious labours, appearing vnto him as he prayed in his o­ratorie, in the most vglie, and horrid shapes that master of wickednes could inuet, vomitting out of his infernall throate manie reprochfull wordes against him: when he, nothing dismayed thereat, coura­giously proceeded in his deuotions, and brandishing the chief armes of life, the holy crosse, against that black messenger of death, he com­pelled him to vanish away in confusion.

VI. Now the excellēcie of his vertues begā to be soe famous all ouer Brittaine, that manie blind, lame, leaprous, and other diseased persons flocked vnto him as to an Oracle, whom he not only wonderfully cured in bodie, but with the sacred baulme of his pious aduise, and counsell, healed the sinfull infections of their soules. His fame arri­ued at length to the eares of a king of that countrey, whose lewdnes of life did little answeare the dignitie of his calling; but coming in a poore habitt vnto the holy man, he fell prostrate at his feete, humbly desiring his prayers for the remission of his sinnes. The Sainct lifting him vp, encouraged him with a familiar exhortation, to the contēpt He connet­teth a King to good life. of the world, & the diuine loue of heauē, with such a liuely, & moo­uing discourse, that the king receaued wonderfull great cofort the­reat, and returning againe to his pallace, reformed his bad life euer after. Manie other miracles are reported to haue been wrought by the meritts of this blessed sainct, which exceede our breuitie to relate; our discourse hasteneth now towards his death, which as it could not come vnto soe holie man in an ill season, soe it could not befall him in a better time then it did. For the night before his departure, ha­uing had a reuelation of that happie hower, he made it knowne vnto the rest of his brethren, who with bitter teares, witnessed the sorrow they conceaued for the losse of soe good a father, and entreated him to appoint one to succeed him in the gouernmēt of the Monasterie, whereunto he willingly consented. And on the morrow, hauing cele­brated The man­n [...]r of his death. the holy Sacrifice of Masse, and receaued the sacred bodie, & bloud of our lord, standing yet at the aultar, he sweetly rendred vp his blessed soule, into the hands of his deare redeemer, without anie [Page 235] apparance of sensuall paine at all. After which quiet separation, his bodie by the hands of his brethren, was reuerently committed to a poore house of clay in the earth, and his vnspotted soule freed from her terrene habitation, was cōueyed into the heauenly court of all­mightie God, by a Sacred Conuoy of celestiall spiritts. He florished about the yeare of our lord. 459. and died the third day of March, in the first weeke of Lent. His holy reliques were translated after­wards to S. PETERS Abbey of Benedictin Monks in the cittie of Gaunt in Flanders, The memorie of which translation is celebrated the first day of August. His life is found written by Joannes Anglicus JOHN Cap­graue, and other auncient manuscripts sort downe by SVRIVS ont of which me haue gathered it. VSVARD & MOLANVS doe make mention of him.

The life of Sainct OWEN Confessor, and Monk of the holy Order of S. Benedict.
MAR. 4. Out of venerable Bede de gest. Ang.

SAINCT OWEN being chief steward of the royall familie of S. ETHELDRED wife to Egfrid King of the Northumbers, encrea­sed so excellently in the feruour of vertue, that forsaking that prin­cely seruice, and all the pleasures, and riches he enioyed in the world, he putt on poore apparell, and went to the monasterie of Lesting, where the holy Bishop S. CHAD then liued. He brought nothing with him, but an axe in his hand, to shew that he came not to the mona­sterie He forsa­keth the world. to liue idlely as manie doe, but to gett his liuing by the labour of his hands, which afterwards by his great industrie he prooued: for hauing receaued the habitt of a Benedictin monk in the same place, by how much his want of learning did disfurnish him of abilitie to me­ditate on the misteries of the holy scriptures, by soe much the more he employed, and applied his whole endeauours, to serue the mona­sterie, with the labour of his hands. But when the holy Bishop S. CHAD remooued his seate to Lichfield, he tooke this holy monk along with him, and iudged him worthie to be one of those eight, whom (as we haue sayd in his life) he made his more familiar companion; in that little retiring place of his deuotions, which he built neere adioyning [Page 236] vnto the Church, for his more priuate exercise of pietie. There S. OWEN, being for reuerence and respect of his deuotion num­bred a mongst the other brethren, when the rest were earnestly bu­sied at their prayers, and meditations, he laboured abrode in making prouision of such things, as were necessarie. He was a man of ve­rie great meritts, and one who had left the world with a pure inten­tion & sincere desire of the eternall reward promised to such, as fol­low the footstepps of CHRIST, and his Apostles. And therefore he His guift of reuela­tion. was esteemed of allmightie God to be in all things most worthie, to whom he might more peculiarly reueale his heauenly se­crets, being for his sinceritie, most worthie to be beleeued in his re­lations. For this cause the glorious vision of the Angelicall troupes which came from heauen with their melodious tunes, to bring newes of the neere-approching death of S. CHAD, was shewed vnto this holy Monke, as he laboured without, when the holy Bishop was at his prayers within. This you may reade in the life of S. CHAD the second of March. And this only testimonie of alimightie Gods particular fauour vnto this holy sainct, may serue for a sufficient proofe of his great vertue, and sainctitie, who after the death of the holy Bishop, hauing long exercised him self in the execution of his His happie death. pious vocation, left the world the second time, to receaue an euerla­sting reward in heauen, for hauing renounced it at first, and yielded vp his pure soule into the hands of his most deare redeemer. Thus much of him we haue gathered chiefly out of S. BEDES-historie of England. Trithemius in his third booke and 118. Chapter of the illustrious men of S. BE­NEDICTS order, and Arnold Wion in his Appendix to his Martirologe doe both make worthy mention of him. What day he died it is not knowne.

The life of Sainct PIRAN Bishop and Confessor.
MAR. 5. Written by Joan­nes An­glicus, re­cited by Iohn Capgraue.

SAINCT PIRAN borne in Jreland of a noble race, for the loue of God contemned the riches of the world, and became an Hermite in the same countrey, leading the space of manie yeares, a very strict and rigid manner of life, by which, and his con­continuall [Page 237] preaching and working of manie miracles, he drew diuers out of the blindnes of Idolatrie, to the true fayth of CHRIST. He was His ver­tuous life. wonderfull sparing in his diet, continuall in watching, and prayer, and from his very childhood to the hower of his death, allwaies em­ployed in reading, teaching, & practising, the workes of charitie, hu­militie, cōtinencie, & all other vertues. Being made Priest, he omitted noe dutie belonging to that dignitie, feeding the hungry, cloathing the naked, instructing the ignorant, restrayning frō vice, & moouing to vertue. At length he departed out of Jreland, & came into that part of England called Cornwall, where with some others in a poore little habitation he prepared himself for death: the hower whereof being The man­ner of his death. partly by a grieuious sicknes, (of which neuer in his life he had tasted before) and partly by a diuine inspiration, made knowne vnto him, he caused his graue to be opened, and entring him self into it, yiel­ded vp his blessed soule out of that house of clay, to be carried vpp to the neuer dying ioyes of heauen, in the glorie of a great light, and splendour, that appeared at the same instant. He died the sixth of March, and was buried in Cornwall, in a chappell in the towne of Padstow which chappell remayneth there to this day. He is reported to haue wrought manie wonderfull miracles in his life time, which bicause they tend rather to breed an incredulous amazement in the readers, then mooue to anie workes of vertues or pietie, we haue willingly omitted. His life is written by IOANNES Anglicus, and re­cited by IOHN CAPGRAVE, and mention is made of him in the Chronicles of Ireland, and other anncient monuments.

The life of Sainct KYNEBVRG queene, and Abbesse, and of Sainct Kineswide, and Tibbe Virgins, all of the holy order of S. Benedict.
MAR. 6. Takē out of diuers graue Au­thours.

SAINCT KYNEBVRG, and KYNESWIDE daughters to wicked Penda the Heathen king of the Mercians, inherited soe little of their fa­thers impietie, and were soe farre from following the blind waies of his Paganisme, that contrariwise like two bright starres they shined in the true profession of Christian religion, and vertue: [Page 238] Soe that their father, though euer rebellious against allmightie God Kyneburg marieth King Al­fred. yet in them he furnished his heuenly Kingdom with two most sacred branches of sainctitie. KYNEBVRG, to gett out of the reach of his crueltie, maried Alfred King of the Northumbers: which was rather an aduancement then a hindrance to her, in the continuall exercise of vertue & pietie. The poore, needie, and afflicted had soe pious a mother of her, that she seemed to be borne for noe other end, then to relieue their miserie. And yet did she not soe excell in this one grace, as yf she were dead to all other vertues, for there was allmost noe prayse due vnto a pious-noble woeman, wherein she might not iustly challege her part, all waies performing with a singular care, and diligence whatsoeuer appertayned vnto God, and his diuine Her desire of a chast life. seruice. The feruour of her pietie dayly encreasing, she became at length soe rauished with the sacred loue of her immortall spouse, the King of heauen, that she earnestly desired to renounce her terrene King, & Kingdom, thereby to beare the sweet yoke of CHRIST with more freedom: and loathing all mortall embracements, she aspired only to vnite her soule with allmightie God, in the sacred linkes of his diuine loue. Which, that with more libertie, and profitt, she might bring to passe, she neuer ceased with her pious perswasions to sollicite the King her husband, vntill he had graunted her licence to liue according to her owne free will. The King at length, honou­ring, and admiring soe great feruour of pietie, and religion in his wife, as it were violently forced, and compelled him self, contrarie to the inclination of his owne will, to forgoe his power of matrimo­nie, otherwise lawfull, and not only gaue her way to follow her owne desires, but him self allsoe putt on a constant and setled reso­lution and purpose to keepe perpetuall continencie euer after. The­refore within a short time, the Kings Pallace it self (contrarie to A royall r [...]so [...]ution of chastitie. custom in such places) was changed, as it were, into a monasterie of religion, and a shop where was practised all manner of discipline of more exact vertue, and pietie. The King, & his queene liued as bro­their and sister, vnited togeather in a stricter vnion of minds, then before they were of bodies. KYNEBVRG not a little glad hereat, when after a while she perceaued the King her husband to be sufficiently confirmed in this new course of pietie, she departed with his leaue to a monasterie, which she had prepared for her self and other virgins, [Page 239] where changing her kind of life, she made the splendour and great­nes of her former estate, stoope to the plainnes of humilitie, her ri­ches to grow richer by a volūtarie pouertie, her delights to be an or­dinarie slender diet, and insteed of the ambitions traine of her noble ladies of honour, she was accompanied with a few poore Virgin-Nunnes, with whom she led a vertuous and religious life vnder the, rule of our most holy father Sainct BENEDICT. This monastery was built at a place then called Dormundcaster, and afterwards Chineburg­castle, some two miles distant from the famous Benedictine Abbey of Peterborrough.

II. IN THE meane time her sister KYNESWIDE, as yet but yong, had S. Kyne­swide. not attayned the sacred vaile of religion, but waiting, as it were, at the chamber doore of her diuine spouse, admired, and imitated the sainctity of her sister, soe well, that she gaue great signes, and tokens of her owne future sainctity. When S. KYNEBVRG serued her for a true patterne, or sampler, whence she might take out the pious workes, and flowers of vertue, and religion; being brought vp vn­der her gouernment, in the sacred schoole of a vertuous good life. S. Kyne­burg. made Ab­besse. Afterwards S. KYNEBVRG being made Abbesse of the same monaste­rie, it farre exceeds the force of weake wordes, & this poore penne to expresse, with what loue she gayned soules to CHRISTS seruice, with what care being gained she nourished them in the bosome of her charitie, and how watchfull a guardian, & teacher she was of the di­uine lawes, and monasticall discipline: dayly heaping vp a new en­crease of vertues to her former: till at length, she left this life, and Her death made a happie iourney vnto him, for whose sake she had forsaken the world, and the vanities thereof; leauing vnto her dolefull sisters manie worthy examples of charitie, and religion. She was buried in the same monasterie, which she had built.

III. AFTER the departure of this sacred Virgin, Offa King of the East-Angles became wonderfully affected to the holy Virgin, Kyne­swide her sister, and earnestly desired to make her his wife, & queene. But KINESWIDE, who was quite of an other mind, and had allreadie betrothed her self to be a spouse of the King of heauen, vtterly re­fused to yeeld vnto his desires. And being with much importuni­tie sollicited therevnto, by the perswasions, yea and threatnings of her brethren, she had recourse vnto the Mother of all puritie the [Page 240] Blessed Virgin MARIE, whom with prayers and teares she earnestly implored to ridd her of these troubles. The B. Virgin appearing in a The Virgin Marie ap­peareth to Kyneswide. vision vnto her, gaue her counsell couragiously to persist in her pur­pose of perpetuall chastitie, promising withall to obtaine of her sonne CHRIST-IESVS, whom she had chose for her spouse, to graunt strength, and helpe to her holy intentions. Herevppon KYNESVIDE receauing new force, and courage, sent messengers to giue a defiance vnto King Offa, & breake of all hope of anie such league to be be­twixt them; beseeching, and coniuring him, by the dreadfull name She refu­seth the marriage of King Offa. of our Lord, not to sollicite her anie further with his loue, which she iudged to be violence, nor to make warre against heauen, to take her from CHRIST her chosen spowse, nor to trouble his angels the louers of virginitie; but peaceably to permitt her with an vntou­ched freedom to serue allmightie God, vnto whom she had allreadie consecrated her self to liue a perpetuall Virgin. At this newes (the diuine prouidence soe disposing) the King approoued of her coun­sell, and in his answeare, promised that her sacred vowes should be ratified. Thus then this holy virgin being freed from these trou­bles, held on her pious course and purposes, and hauing receaued the sacred vaile of virginitie, in the same monasterie that her sister, she endeauoured, with great care, and vigilancie, to obserue the rules of a monasticall life in all puritie both of soule, & bodie. And at length King Offa him self, being ouercome with the inuincible vertue of the holy virgin, blushed to see a tender gyrle soe stoutly Off a beco­meth a Be­nedictin Monk. refuse such glorie and riches, and grieuing at his owne subiection to vanitie, and reputing him self but as the slaue of his Kingdom, he forsoke both it, and all the pompe of the world, and went to Rome where he became a Monke of Sainct BENEDICTS order, and happily ended his daies in that holy state.

IV. BVT S. KINESWIDE seruing allmightie God all her life time in continuall watchings, prayers, and good workes, was called at Of S. Tib­be Virgin. length out of the thraldom of this world, to enioy the happie com­panie of her deare spouse CHRIST-IESVS, among the pure quiers of his angels in heauen. She was buried in the same monasterie by her sister S. KYNEBVRG. These two sisters had a Kinswoman called TIBBE, who liued manie yeares in the same monasterie, in soe high a degree of sainctitie, that after her death, she was numbred in the [Page 241] catalogue of Saincts. The sacred reliques of these three Saincts were afterwards translated to the Benedictin Abbey of Peterborough, where their feast was celebrated the sixt day of March; All­though saint TIBBE died on saint LVCIES day the thirteenth of De­cember, as she her self reuealed in an apparition after her death. Other particulars of the liues of these blessed Saincts were burnt & lost, in that outrageous ransacke committed by the Danes against the monasterie of Peterborrough; when [...] Abbot) as Ingulphus a graue authour sayth) with the greater part of his Conuent and the sacred reliques of the holy Ʋirgins Kineburg, Kineswide, and Tibbe fled to Thorney for succour. And William Camden (out of an auncient Authour Robert Swapha [...]) reporteth, that saint KYNEBVRG and KYNESWIDE conferred not a little to the first foundation, and building of the famous Benedictine Abbey of Peterborough. The liues of these Saincts we haue gathered chiefly out of Ioannes An­glicus recited by Iohn Capgraue, and Nicholas Harpsfield saec. 7. cap. 23. Besides these, Rannlphus Cicestrensis lib. 5. cap. 18. Polidor Ʋirgil l. 4. william Malmesbury de g [...]st. Pont. l. 4. Mathew West. an. 705. Arnold Wyon lib. 4. cap. 14. and others doe make honorable [...]tion of them.

The life of saint ESTERWINE Abbot and confessor of the holy order of S. BENEDICT.
MAR 7. Written by vene­rable Bede

ESTERWINE borne in Yorkeshire of noble parents, was neere allied to saint BENNET Bishop Abbot, whose life we haue written the twelfth of Ianuary, wherein something hath been sayd of this holy man sainct ESTERWINE, a ver­tuous proficient in the aforenamed sainct BENNETS Benedictin schoole of religion. For when he (as we haue sayd in his life) had built two monasteries, one in honour of the Prince of the Apostles sainct PETER, at the mouth of the riuer Were, [Page 242] and an other to the name of the Teacher of the Gentils sainct PAVL, not farre from the mouth of the riuer Tine, in the towne Esterwin made Ab­bot. [...] Yarrow, and placed Sigfrid in the gouernment of saint PAVLS, about the yeare of CHRIST 682, at the same time he made choise of ESTERWINE then a Priest of S. PETERS monasterie, and gaue him the gouernement of the same, that the labour, which alone him self was not able to vnder [...] [...]ight be made more easie by the helping vertue of soe beloued a [...]lleague. Nether need it seeme strange to anie (fayth venerable BEDE) that one monastery had two abbotts at once, (to wit S. BENNET Bishop, and S. ESTERWINE) S. BENNETS Two Ab­bo [...] of one [...]onasterie often iourneies ouer the seas, for the good of his monasterie, and the vncertaintie of his returne was cause hereof. For our histories recount, that the most Blessed Apostle S. PETER, vppon an instant, & iust cause, appointed vnder him two Bishops one after an other at Rome, to gouerne the vniuersall Church. And the great Abbot S. BENEDICT him self (as S. GREGORIE Pope writes of him) ordayned twelue abbots vnder him, to rule his disciples, as he throught best, without anie detriment to charitie, yea to the great encrease and conseruation thereof. S. ESTERWINE therefore vndertooke the chardge to gouerne that monasterie, the ninth yeare after the foun­dation. And he remayned in the same as long as he liued, and he li­ued but fower yeares after.

II. HE WAS a man by byrth noble, but he did not make vse of the nobilitie of his bloud (as som [...] doe) to suggest matter of ar­rogancie, and contempt of others, but (as best befitted the ser­uant of God) he turned it to the greater ennobling of his mind Greatnes of vertue, not byrth to be respe­cted. with vertue. For being cozen german vnto saint BENNET Bishop they were both soe truely allied in the nobilitie of the world, that nether ESTERWINE entring into the monasterie, did expect anie greater honour in regard of his nobilitie of birth, and Kin­red, nor BENNET iudged it fitt to be offered him, vppon those respects. But liuing in an equall measure of his good purpose with his other brethren, he reioyced chiefly, that in all things he punctually obserued the rules of regular discipline. And being before, one of the royall traine of King Egfrid, hauing once ridd him selfe of worldly affayres, layd by his armes, and entred into the spirituall warrefare, he remayned allwaies soe humble, and [Page 246] soe equall with his other brethren, that togeather with them he would labour, in the haruest, winow corne, looke to the cat [...] [...] good [...]ample of humilitie. and in all base inferiour offices and drudgeries of the monasterie, he was ioyfull and glad to exercise his obedience and humili­tie. And which is more, being raysed to the degree and calling of an Abbot, he remayned in the same mind as before toward all; according to a wise mans admonition that sayth; Haue they ordayned thee to bee a gouernour? doe not grow proud, but be among thy [...]ects at one of them, meeke, affable, and courteous vnto all. Ne­ther did he yet neglect to bridle offenders with regular disci­pline, but he choose rather out of his innate custom of loue, to gouerne by fayre meanes, and to winne his subiects with his pious admonitions from offending, and entreating them not to hide from him the bright light of their countenances, with the clowd of their vnruly disquietnes.

III. OFTEN times goeing abroad to ouersee the affaires of the monasterie, when he found his brethren at their work, he was wont presently to sett his helping hands therevnto, eyther in guiding or houlding of the plough, or anie other such labour. For he was a yong man of great strength, of a sweet discourse, a merrie hart, bountifull in good workes, and of an honest, and decent aspect. He allwaies cate of the same meate, and in the same place that his other brethren did; and slept in the same common dorter that he did, before he was made Ab­bot. Yea when he fell fick, and foresaw by certaine signes that death was at hand, yet he remayned two daies after in the dorter of the other Brethren. And other fiue daies before his He taketh leaue of his monkes. departure, he was placed in a more secret house a part: till goeing forth one day into the open ayre, he assembled all his monkes togeather, and tooke a solemne leaue of them, impar­ting to euery one a charitable salutation of peace; they, in the meane time, pittifully weeping, and wayling to depart from soe holy a father, and soe pious a pastour. He died the seauenth, day of March, in the night, when the monkes were singing mat­tings in the Church. He was twentie fower yeares of age when he came to the monasterie, he liued twelue yeares therein, seauen whereof he exercised the function of Priestood, and fower His death. [Page 244] he gouerned the Monasterie with the dignitie of Abbot, till at lēgth leauing his mortall limmes, he tooke a happie flight to the King­dom of heauen, saint BENNET Bishop being then absent in his fift iourney to Rome. The life of this Sainct is thus written by saint BEDE, as we haue found it in an auncient manuscript togeather with the lines of other Abbots of the same mònastery, where saint BEDE him self liued a Monke. Besides him, FLORENTIVS WIGORNIENSIS an. 682. MATHEW WESTMINSTER an. 703. NICHOLAS HARPSFIELD. saec. 7. cap. 37. IOHN CAPGRAVE and others doe northily speake his prayses.

The life of sainct FELIX Bishop and Confessor.
MAR. 8. Out of diuers Authours.

FELIX was the first Bishop of the East-Angles, But a man of how great pietie he was, it appeareth chiefly in this He leaueth his coun­trey to preach in England. one famous example, that being natiue of Burgundis and vnderstanding how few labourers there were in soe fruictfull an haruest of CHRIST as England, of his owne accord he left his Bishoprick, friends, Kinred, and riches, and all other mainte­nances, and promotions of his state, to come into our contrey, and employ his best endeauours in soe pious a work. Whose holy pur­pose, being vnderstood, & admired by Honorius Archbishop of Can­turbury, he allotted him the Prouince of the East-Engles, which hauing He conuer­teth the East-An­gles. forsaken the Christian fayth before receaued, was fallen againe into the blindnes of Idolatrie. But FELIX, being in effect correspondent to his name which signifieth, Happie, with soe great happines dischar­ged the prouince he vndertooke, that in a short time, he wholly, & happily reduced it from the Idolatrous bondage of the deuill, to the sweet freedō of CHRISTS sacred Ghospell. He held his Episcopall sea in a towne then called Dimmock, but afterwards from his name it was named FELIXTOWE, or FELSTOWE. In which place and dignitie, happie FELIX hauing discharged the part of a good pastour, for the space of [Page 245] seauenteene yeares continually labouring with inuincible patience for the aduancement of CHRISTS holy Ghospel, loden with vertue, His death. and good workes, made a most happie iourney to the eternall hap­pines; the eigth day of March, & was buried in the same towne: but his reliques were after wards trāslated to a place called Scha [...], where appeares yet (sayth Malmesbury) some signes of a Church destroyed and burnt by the Danes. But the Sacred body of this sainct being sought for, and found a long time after, was againe translated to the famous Abbey of Benedictin Monkes at Ramsey. This life we haue gathered out of S. Bede de gest. lib. 2. c. 15. Nicholas Harpsfield, saec. 7. cap. 16. and William Malmesbury de Pontif.

The life of Sainct BOSA, or Boso Bishop and Confessor, Monke of the holy Order of S. Benedict.
MAR 11. Out of ve nerable Bede de gest. Ang.

BOSA from a monke of the Benedictin monasterie of Streanshall in Northumberland, was at the instāce of Egfrid king of that Pro­uince, elected Bishop of Yorke in the place of the most reuerend Bis­hop He is made Bishop of Yorke. S. WILFRID, then vniustly banished out of that sea and coun­trey, by the meanes of the forefayd king, and the authoritie of Theo­dore Archbishop of Canturbury, in the yeare 678. This sea he gouer­ned in great holines of good life and learning, till by the death of king Egfrid, his brother Alfrîd obtayned the kingdome; who re­called S. WILFRID out of banishment, and restored him to his Bis­hoprick againe. But after the space of fiue yeares, Alfred expel­led saint WILFRID againe, and BOSA was once more restored to the sea of Yorke, in the gouernment whereof, and the continuall exercise of all true vertues belonging to a holy Bishop, he ren­dred vp his blessed soule to the neuer dying ioyes of heauen, about the yeare of our Lord. 700. but what day he died it is vncertaine, this eleuenth of March, is made a commemoration of him, whom S. BEDE calleth a man well beloued of God, of great holines, and hu­militie; Besides whom, WILLIAM MALMESBVRY, TRITEMIVS in his fourth booke of the famous men of S. Benedicts order cap. 64. MA­THEW WESTMINSTER an. 678. ARNOLD WION lib. 2. cap. 23. [Page 243] and others, doe make worthie mention of him, a [...] allsoe Pope IONH the sea­uenth in his letters written in behalf of S. WILFRID.

The life of the most Glorious Pope, & Doctour of the Catholike Church S. GREGORY. surnamed the Great, Apostle of England, and glorie of S. BENEDICTS Order.
MAR 12. written by Pau­lus Dia­conus.

The life of S. PATRICK Bishop and confessor, Apostle of Jreland
MAR. 17 VVriten by Ioceline a Monk of Furnes

SAINCT PATRICK, for the excellencie of his vertues worthyly surnamed the Great, was borne of the race of auncient Britans, in that part of Wales now called Pembrookshire; but the glorie, and fame of his diuine learning, life, and miracles, shined chiefly among His parents the inhabitans of Jreland, who then were called Scotts. His fathers name was Calphurnius, his mothers Conquessa, sister to the great Sainct MARTIN Archbishop of Tours. In his Youth, togeather with his two sisters and a brother he was taken Captiue, and like an other Joseph, sould into Ireland to a king named Milcho. And as Joseph He is sould into Irelād being a Slaue in Egipt, was after a long [...]uffring of aduersitie, raysed at length to the supreme power & Princedom of the countrey, soe PATRICK hauing endured the affliction of his sale and slauerie in Ireland, receaued the dignitie, and primacie of the spirituall gouernment of the same. Joseph furnished the hunger-starud Egip­tiās with graine; PATRICK in his time, nourished the poore Jrish lan­guishing in the blindnes of Idolatrie, with the wholesom foode of the Christian fayth. They both tasted the smart of bodyly affliction, for the greater good of the soule, and were as gould in a furnace [Page 271] purified in the scorching flames of aduersitie. Then by the com­maund of the Prince, PATRICK was made gardian of the Kings hoggs, in the north part of the Countrey; when it was strange to see He kee­peth swine the wonderfull encrease of that ffock, vnder soe pious a guide. The holy youth bowing humbly to his fortune, turned that necessitie His exer­cise of pietie being in mi [...]erie. into a vertue, and hauing by this office purchased to him self a so­litarines; he piously laboured in the sauation of his owne soule. Dwelling in the mountaines, woods, and caues of a desert, he exer­cised him self in prayer, fasting, and meditation, wherein he tasted the diuine sweetnes of allmightie God; being amidst these affli­ctions, often visited, and conforted with angels from heauen. It was not the crueltie eyther of heate, cold, frost, or snow, or anie other roughnes of weather that could fright him from his spirituall ex­ercises: But he still went on corragiously in his pious course, dayly encreasing, and profitting more and more in the way of vertue, and growing stronger in fayth, and the loue of IESVS-CHRIST.

II. AT LENGTH, the allmightie goodnes, that freed the children of Israel out of the bondage of Egipt, deliuered his seruant Patrick, by speciall miracle, out of this affliction, and restored him after six yeares seruitude in Ireland, to his natiue contrey and friends He hath a vision. againe, to the great ioy, and confort of his parents, and kinsfolks. He remayned some dayes with them, till by the occasiō of a dreame or vision, he was inspired otherwise. For he saw a man in his sleepe, who, as he throught, came out of Ireland with manie letters in his hand, whereof he gaue him one, which began thus: This is the voice of the Irishmen. And hauing read soe much, he seemed at the same instant to heare the voyces of manie infants in Jreland crying out of their mothers wombs: We beseech thee holy. Father come walke amongst vs, and deliuer vs. And a waking, he gaue thanks vnto allmigtie God, iudging for certaine, that God had called him to cōuert that coū ­trey. Therefore, he resolueed to settle him self to the studie of ho­ly learning, and the better to putt his resolution in practise, like an other Abraham, he left his countrey, parents, friends, and all, and went ouer into France, where, vnder the learned tutorship of He studieth in France vnder S. German. S. GERMANS Bishop of A [...]xer, he spent eighteen yeares in the con­tinuall studie, and reading of holy scriptures. And at length, the fame holy bishop seeing the great signes of vertue, learning, and [Page 272] religion in PATRICK promoted him to the sacred dignitie of Prie­sthood. Then he departed to his vncle S. MARTIN Archbishop of Tours, with whom he stayed some daies reading, and conferring what he had learned: And because S. MARTIN was a monk, he gaue likewise the monasticall habit to his cozen, togeather with all his manner of regular obseruance, which PATRICK not only receaued with deuotion, but perseuering euer after therein was an ornamēt to the habitt he wore with the corespondencie of his vertuous life and actions. And in all things shewed him self worthie of soe noble, soe vertuous an vncle, and soe excellent a master. This done, he returned to S. GERMAN with whom he had not stayed long, before he reuealed vnto him an earnest desire he had to goe to Rome, the fountaine and head of all true religion, and Ecclesiasticall discipline. S. GERMAN He goeth to Rome approued his good purpose, and gaue him all the furtherance he could for his iourney. But by the way he chanced to meete with an holy Hermite who gaue him a staffe, which was sayd to haue been in the sacred hands of IESVS-CHRIST; and by vertue of this staffe, he wrought manie miracles afterwards, and it was held in great venera­tion among the Irish, and is to this day, by the name of Iesus-staffe. But S. PATRICK being safely arriued at Rome, was very honourably en­tertayned by Pope Celestin the first, who then gouerned the sea Apo­stolique, and finding him to be of a most perfect, & approoued fayth learning, and vertue, first gaue him the name of PATRICK (for before he was called Suchar, or Suchet) and hauing inuested him with episco­pall dignitie, afterwards he sent him to preach the fayth of CHRIST He is sent to Preach in Ireland. to the rude inhabitans of Ireland. Not long before, he had sent thi­ther for the same purpose, one Paladius his Archdeacō; but the Jrish­men, refusing to receaue him, and his doctrine, he was forced to returne back to Rome; and afterwards comming into England died in the confines of the Picts. Therefore S. PATRICK not only suc­ceeded him in that holy embassage, and labour, but farre exceeded him in the fruict he reaped out of both. And truely the workes and miracles which are reported of him in the conuersion of that coun­trey, are soe manie, soe infinite, and some soe beyond the degrees of admiration, that they seeme allmost to be beyond fayth too. At lest they are farre beyond the limitts of this short treatise, and there­fore I wittingly omitt the greatest part of them, not that I thinke thē [Page 277] voyd of all truth, (God forbid) but because, some are reported with ouermuch pietie, or credulitie, and by such authours at first, whose names are vnknowne, and consequently their testimonie cannot car­rie his iust weight in the ballāce of true historie. But before we enter into S. PATRICKS preaching in Irelād, let the great S. HIEROME tell vs what manner of men he had to deale with. That nation (sayth he) had The rude­nes of the Irish poe­ple. not proper wines, but as yf they had read PLATOS. Policie, and followed the example of CATO, like beasts they satiated. their lust according a [...] euerie one thought best. He likewise affirmeth that he him self being in Frāce had seene lib. 2. con­tra Jouin. cap. 6. those poeple cate mans Flesh, and that they were wont when they did light on shepheards. that kept their flocks in woods and desert places, to cutt of the but­tocks of men, and the paps of woemen, affirming those to be the only delights of all other meates. Noe wonder then, that it pleased allmightie God to shew such strange signes, and miracles, by S. PATRICK; as soe manie necessarie instrumēts to worke the cōuersion of that rude, fierce, & barbarons poeple, whose iron hearts could not be mollified, but in the powerfull flames of wonderfull great vertue, and sainctitie.

III. S. PATRICK therefore and his fellowes coming a shore amongst this rude poeple in the north part of the Coūtrey called Vl [...]ter, found His entrāce into Ire­land. a multitude of Pagans expecting his arriuall, come to meet him. For their Magitians, & Negromancers had foretould his coming before, and therefore, the chief king of the Countrey Leogarie by name had prouided that watch thinking to make his entring into the Iland, his goeing out of the world. Against whom presently that dogged crew lett loose a cruell mastiffe, to giue the gripes of death vnto the holy Bishop. But the dogg [...] forgetting his wonted fiercenes, was strucken soe dumbe, and starke at the sight of the holy mā, that he stood like a stone, without anie shew of motion: giuing an euident token, that his setters on, who worshiped Idols of stone, were like the Gods they worshiped. Which being perceaued by one Dichu One Dichu endeauou­reth to kill S. Patrick. a man of mightie strength, and stature, he straight lifted vp his sword to giue the holy man his death. But his strength became feeblenes, hauing the force of the Allmightie opposing it; for his arme, and whole bodie grew in a moment soe stiffe, that he could nether moue his foote to goe on, nor bring downe the Dichu cō ­uer [...]ed by miracle. threatning blow he intended. Wherevppon, by the preaching of saint PATRICK, he presently became a new man, re­nounced [Page 278] his Idolatrie, and was washed in the sacred font of bap­tisme, togeather with all his familie. Soe that he, who in that Pro­uince was the greatest and chiefest impugner of Christianitie, be­came the ring-leader, and first professour thereof: and constan­tly remayned in the same whilest he liued. And as at that time, his soule was released out of the bonds of sinne, soe likewise all the parts of his bodie were restored againe to the function of their won­ted strength, and vigour. Therefore he gaue vnto saint PATRICK, as an argument of his newly conceaued deuotion to Christian reli­gion, that land with the appurtenances, where this miracle happe­ned, to build a new Church thereon: and this Church (according to the desire of Dichu) was not built from East to west (as the manner is) but from North to south; perhapps, that from the Nor­therne coldnes of Paganisme, those Idolaters might be incited by the misterie of this edifice, to the meridiā feruour of Christian fayth, and charitie. In this place afterwards S. PATRICK built a famous mo­nasterie, into which he introduced a conuent of perfect monks and ordayned S. DVNNE his disciple abbot thereof: with whom he him self returning from his labour of preaching, was wont somes times to remayne.

IV. AS ONCE he celebrated the diuine sacrifice of masse in the same Church, a wicked Magitian malitiously thrusting a lōg rodd in at the window, ouerturned his chalice and shed the most pretious Ransom of our Redemption vppon the aultar. Whereat the holy man being exceedingly troubled & grieued in mind, burst out into teares, whē on the suddē, behould by the diuine handy work of God, the chalice A magitiā miracu [...]ou­sly puni­shed. appeared againe standing vpright in the place before him, and noe [...]igne could be seene on the aulthar clothes of that diuine offring. But the diabolicall worker of that mischieuous act escaped not a iust pu­nishment for his temeritie, for at the same instant, the earth it self (as it were wearie, and ashamed to carrie such a hellish monster (opened her bowells and swallowed him vp aliue, to send him to his grand­master of darknes in hell. And in the same place, as a token of Gods reuēge, there remayned a hollow ditch euer after. Then S. PATRICK went to Milcho, vnder whom he had liued before in seruitude, and Milcho burneth him self, & his goods. now he hoped to deliuer him from the seruitude of the Deuill, to the sweet freedom of CHRISTS ghospel. But he hearing of his coming, [Page 279] those rather to giue him self a perpetuall slaue to hell, then to seeme to become subiect to him, that before had been his seruant For hauing gathered all his wealth and goods togeather into a heape, & putt him self into the midst, he sett all on fier, & hauing soe burnt his bodie in sacrifice to the deuill, he made, as it were, a torch of his riches to light his soule the direct way to hell. This being seene and vnderstood by Sainct PATRICK, he sighed, and wept grieuously for the space of two howers; and at lēgth opening his prophetick mouth, he foretould, that in punishment of this wickednes, none of his chil­dren, or generation should euer enioy the gouernment of their fa­thers estate, but should liue as slaues all their life time; as after wards it fell out. And S. PATRICK, returning back to his beloued friend, Dichu, stayed somes daies with h [...]m, continually preaching teaching, and strengthening the Christian faith with his wonderfull learning, He ouer­throweth the Magi­tians. zeale, & miracles; soe that the Idols of Paganisme began euery where to be destroyed, and the number of Christians dayly encreased. And allbeit his good endeauours were most cruelly resisted by the Ma­gitians (whereof that Countrey was full) yea by the maine vp­holder of magicians, the chiefest King of all the Countrey, yet strengthened with the armour of Gods heauenly grace, and a secure conscience, he passed through all those difficulties. For like vnto an other PETER, he called downe a magitian, that in defence of his Idolatrie was flying towards heauen, to re­ceaue deaths rude salutation on the earth: And as an other Moy­ses, who putt downe the Magitians of Egipt, he ouercame manie doctours of that black art, in shewing of strainge signes, and miracles which discouered and dissipated all the fantasticall illusions, and de­ceipts of their hellish practises.

V. BVT King Leogaires heart like a second Pharao was hardened The king [...] malice against S. Patrick. soe farre, that the more vertues shined in S. PATRICK, the more he endeauoured to exercise his renengfull wrath against him, for seeing his magitians, whom soe highly he fauoured, by his meanes con­founded, and especially to reuenge the death of his greatest dia­bolicall fauourite, he assembled a troupe of men togeather to murder him, which the holy man perceauing, with an vndaun­ted courage went towards them, vsing that verse of the Psalme. Let God rise, and his enemies be dissipated: and let those that hate him, Psal. 6 [...]. v. 1. [Page 280] flie from before his face. When on a suddaine there arose such a ter­rible His wicked troupes are disper­sed. earth-quake, such horrible thunder-clapps, threatning to shiue [...] the vautes of heauēn into peeces appeared in the glittering skies, that some of that euill-minded companie were slaine out right, others totally disheartned, and the whole crew putt to flight. And such a spiritt of giddines seazed their distempered braines, that they fell furiously one vppon an other, friend and brother against brother, till the greatest part of them were slaine, only some few escaped away sorely wounded. The King him self being shrewdly affrighted herewith, fled secretly away, and hid him self out of the reach of that madding multitude. The queene came humbly and re­uerently vnto the holy Bishop, to entreat peace, promising to induce her husband to receaue the Christian fayth; And he according to the Leode­gaires say­ned friend­ship discouered. agreement, came to the holy man, and falling on his knees, fayned in wordes to adore Christ, whom his heart neuer thought on: and promising to obey all his admonitions, he falsely inuited PATRICK to voutchsafe the nextday to honour, his house with hispresēce. Who all beit he knew by reuelation the deceiptfull heart of that Host, yet putting his whole confidence in allmightie God, he yielded to his request; and on the morrow, through all the death-threatning wat­ches, and ambushes layd for him by the way, he passed vnknowne, & vnseene, till he came to Taragh where then the king was, & entred the Pallace hall as they were at dinner; to the great admiration of the whole companie. Then by the instigation of the king, manie damna­ble plotts were practised against his life by those magick professours of deuilishnes, all which, through the power of our Lords holy pro­tection, & the vertue of the holy crosse, he not only miraculously es­caped, but vtterly ruined and destroyed, by his contrarie signes, and miracles. But all this heate of vertue did nothing mollifie▪ the iron­heart of Leogaire, but rather incensed him more, and more against the And all his followers swallowed vp in the earth. holy mā, seeing his workes preuayle soe much ouer the power of his hellish doctours. Therefore againe he mustered a troupe of damned ministers to murder him. But before they could bring their wicked purposes to effect, the earth (not able to beare such wickednes anie longer) opened vnder thē & swallowed vp their bodies aliue, to send their soules to the mercilesse gulph of hell. Which being seene, & vn­derstood by the inhabitans of that countrey, they were struckē with [Page 281] exceeding terrour and amazemēt, & lest they should come to the like mishap, they all beleeued in IESVS-CHRIST, and thrōged togeather to receaue the holy Sacramēt of Baptisme. And the king hūbly demaū ­ded pardō for his temeritie, which the sainct easyly gaue him, but could not perswade him to embrace the Christiā fayth; therefore he left him to followe his owne waies, prophesying that for his hardnes of heart none of his generatiō should afterwards enioy his kingdom. But his queene beleeued, was Baptised, and ended her daies happyly.

VI. AND S. PATRICK hauing confirmed those new Christians in The quee­ne beco­meth a Christian. their fayth, tooke shipping, and sayled to the Prouince of Meth, where he came on land at the mouth of the riuer Boin; But leauing those barbarous poeple in the Blindnes of their Idolatrie, he went to one Conallus a great man in those parts, and brother to the fore­sayd Leogaire, and him he conuerted to the Christian fayth. And thence he departed to the Prouince of Conaght, where being at his entrie much resisted by two magitians his ordinarie enemies, at lēgth ouercome with miracles, they beleeued in IESVS-CHRIST, and were Baptised. Therefore the holy man holding on his course of prea­ching, destroyed as he went all Idols, and in a publick assemblie of a verie great multitude of people, where were allsoe present the sea­uen sohnes of Amblaich, all famous for nobilitie of birth, dignitie, power, and riches, the man of God, that he might in such a multi­tude gaine manie soules to CHRIST, gott into the verie thickest of See the courage & confidence of S. Pa­trick. the throng, and lifting vp his spirituall weapons of the ghospell, to cutt downe the brambles of Idolatrie, he began to preach the true fayth vnto them: when a Magitiā called Ro [...]hait rising vp against him endeauoured to cutt of the thred of his exhortation, & life at on­ce. But the power of all mightie God, who allwaies defendeth his ser­uants, sent a thunderbolt suddēly frō heauen, which sent the soule of that minister of mischief, to the perpetuall seruice of his black master in hell. This soe manifest, & soe terrible a miracle being seene & mar­ked by all the multitude, the seauen forsayd bretheren, & twelue thousand men besides, were conuerted thereby to the Christiā fayth, at the preaching of S. PATRICK, and were all cleansed from the dia­bolicall markes of Paganisme by receauing the Sacred character of Twelue thousand persons conuerted. Christianitie in the holy font of Baptisme. And leauing the gou­uernment of this poeple to a holy man called Mancenus, He him [Page 282] self trauelled ouer all the Prouince of Conaght, attending incessan­tly to his pious labour of preaching and teaching those barbarous poeple, vntill by the helping grace of the holy ghost, he had cōuerted, and baptised the whole Countrey. He built Churches in manie places and ordayned therein Priests, and other Ecclesiasticall ministers by whose prudence and pietie the soules of the poeple might be go­uerned in the truth, and the diuine office duely, and reuerently performed.

VII. THIS DONE, S. PATRICK went againe into the North part of Ireland, preaching, teaching, conuerting, and baptising all the way as he went. Thence through the confines of Meath, he trauelled to the Prouince of Leinster, leauing at certaine places some of his schollers to execute the office of Bishops amongst the poeple he had conuerted. But how great miracles he wrought in all this and in other his iourneies ouer that rude countrey, how manie sick per­sons he cured, how manie Magitians he confounded, how manie dead he raysed to life, how manie things to come he foretould, and vppon how manie his aduersaries allmightie God powred forth the renengfull ire of strange punishments, it farre exceeds the boūds of this weake penne to sett downe, and this short treatise to con­taine. He arriued at length at the cittie of Dublin, where Aiphin the king thereof with his sonne, and his daughter called Dublinia (from whom the towne tooke name) and allmost all the poeple, The towne o [...] du [...]lin conuerted. were conuerted at once to the Christan fayth. Hence he trauelled to the Prouince of Mounster where being kindly receaued of the King called Oengus, he baptised him & the greatest part of his poeple. And there he is sayd to haue raysed eighteen persons from death to life at once, besides other particulars. But seeing soe plentifull a haruest in Ireland, and but few workmen, he passed ouer the seas into Wales, where with his learning, and zealous labour he pre­uayled much against the Pelagian heresie then raygning, and made manie places there allsoe famous for his miracles and sainctitie. As he returned with a new supplie of holy and learned coadiutors to­wards Ireland, he diuerted into the Ile of Man (thē subiect to the Bri­tans) He conuer­teth the I [...]e of Man which by his preaching, and miracles he conuerted to the sayth, and left some of his fellowes there to conserue it in the same.

[Page 283] VIII. BEING returned into Jreland, he chāced to conuert a noble man called Darius, who seeing and admiring the wonderfull vertues and miracles of the Sainct, gaue him a large, and fertile peece of land in the prouince of Vister, where S. PARTICK hauing considered the He buil­deth the towne of Armagh. pleasantnes and commoditie of the place, built a fayre cittie now called Armagh: into which he induced noe other inhabitant but such as him self knew to be well, and soundly grounded, and instructed in the Catholick fayth. He allsoe adorned the same with Churches, Monasteries, and Nunneries, which he furnished with a learned Clergie, vertuous monkes, and religious woemen, whoe all liued vnder the rules of Ecclesiasticall, and monasticall perfection, assigned vnto them by S. PATRICK. In the same towne he ordayned his Ar­chiepiscopall sea, which he desired to make the Metropolitan Siluester' Gyraldus in topagr. Hib. of all Ireland; and to that end he made a iourney to Rome, to haue all confirmed by the supreme authoritie of the Sea Apostolicque. The Pope receaued him with great curtesie, as the Apostle of Ire­land, gaue him [...] Palle, made him his Vicegerent, or Legat in that Countrey, and confirmed by Apostolicall authority, whatsoeuer he had ordayned, disposed, or done in that Kingdome. And wi­thall gratified his pious labours with the treasure of manie reliques of the Apostles, S. STEPHEN and other Martirs to enrich the Coun­trey at his returne. Moreouer he gaue him a certaine linnen cloath stained with the sacred Bloud of our Lord IESBS-CHRIST, which he­esteemed aboue all. Loade with this spirituall wealth, the blessed man returned to his Prouince, and hauing made his Archiepiscopall sea of Armagh the Metropolitan of all Ireland, those reliques he placed with great reuerence in a shrine behind the high aultar. And the cu­stom of that Church hath been euer since the time of this glorious Reliques of Saincts worshiped▪ in S. Pa­tricks daics. Sainct, on the feasts of Easter, and Whitsunday, to produce those sacred treasures to the publick view of the poeple, to be reuerenced and worshiped by their deuotion, according as the worth of such sacred things required. But in his returne from R [...]me, this vnwea­ried seruant of IESVS-CHRIST made some stay in his natiue Coun­trey of great Britaine, where againe he left manie rare memories, and monuments of his excellent vertues, and labours. And being in Ireland he setled thirtie bishops (which he had brought from beyond the seas) in diuers places of that abundant Haruest, to cultiuate, and [Page 284] manure it with their learning, vertues, and good workes. These he him self was wont oftentimes to visitt, as their Metropolitan, to call them to Councell, to direct them in the Ecclesiasticall gouernment; striuing all waies to roote out whatsoeuer was foūd cōtrarie to Chri­stian law, and iustice, and to promote what was conformable to the holy Canons of the Church, and good manners: shining in the meane time (as allwaies) with allmost innumerable miracles, that whatsoeuer he ether taught or ordayned by word of mouth, (like a true Apostle) he strengthened, and confirmed with wonderfull si­gnes which followed. Among which he shewed in nothing soe great, and generall a benefitt to that countrey (excepting their conuersion to Christianitie) as this which now you shall heare. S Pa [...]rick fr [...]eth [...]e­land from three pe­st [...]ē trou­bles.

XIX. IRELAND from the first time it was inhabited grieuious­ly suffered the continuall troubles of three mortall discommodities: an infinite number of venemous Serpents; visible troupes of vglie deuils; and a multitude of witches, and magicians, their seruants. For, the number, and power of poysenous creat [...]s soe preuayled in that Iland, that men and other beastes were not only infected with their venom, but manie times slaine, and deuoured. The Deuils allsoe, who were masters of those superstitious Idolaters, appeared visibly vnto them both in the ayre, and on the land, and forced that wretched poeple, with difficultie to purchase their owne peace, by manie Sacrifices, guifts, and labours done in their behalf, and ho­nour, and glad they were, that soe they could escape the furie of that hellish crew. And lastly soe manie Sorcerers, Witches, Negroman­cers, and the like swarmed in all parts of that Iland, that noe histo­rie reporteth the like of anie other countrey. But from the danger of this threefold miserie, the thrice happie Bishop PATRICK deliue­red that miserable countrey by the vertue of his prayers, and in­tercession to allmightie God, in soe much that it hath remayned free from all venemous beasts euen to this present day; nay the wood that groweth there being brought into other countreies, killeth all vene­mous serpents that come neere it, as I my self haue experienced on a [...]oade: soe that this is a perpetuall miracle, still visibly continued & maintayned by allmightie God, through the merits of his seruant S. PATRICK. Thrice Happie Jland had he obtayned a safegard of de­fence from the sting, and poyson of heresie, as he did from other ve­nemous [Page 285] serpents. Manie of the Magicians he conuerted to the true fayth, others that remayned obstinate their wickednes receaued iust punishmēt frō heauen. And for the Deuils their masters (whole trou­pes whereof at his first entrance he beheld, at is were laying a siege round about the countrey) he banished them all, no [...] only out of the hearts of these Idolaters, but allsoe frō appearing in their horrid sha­pes to terrifie the poeple as they were wōt. But the passeport of their freedom from these furies was not for euer, it went out of date, when togeather with heresie, the Deuils, and their diabolicall ministers entred into the countrey againe.

X. HAVING purged the whole Iland in this so [...]t, as well from the He visiteth the whole countroy of Ireland. blindnes of Idolatrie, as allsoe from all other venom, and venemous things, accōpanied with a sacred troupe of his holy disciples, (hauing with accoustumed deuotiō celebrated the feast of Easter) he trauelled all ouer the whole countrey, euerie where teaching, & preaching the truth of the ghospel, & ether conuerting to the fayth or confirming the allreadie conuerted in the fayth, with the force, & efficacie of his diuine eloquēce: In soe much that all the Irishmen, to whō, as much as the fame & knowledge of his name arriued, by reason of that soe re­nowned, & profitable a miracle, yielded them selues, & all they had into his hands, and deuoutly obeyed his doctrine, institutions, and precepts, and were submitted to him as their true Apostle. The­refore this excellent Husbandman, perceiuing the stonnie hardnes of our Lords field to be mollified, by rooting out and destroying all the briers, brambles, and rubbege thereof, made it more abundantly fruitfull, with a new supplie of the most wholsom feed of the Euan­gelicall precepts, and counsels; whereby it might bring forth not only the thirtith or sixtith, but the hundredth encrease of fruit, and profitt. For he made the whole countrey, and all the inhabitants He separa­teth euery tenth head to out Lord thereof, to be tithed, and deuided; and euerie tenth head as well of men, and woemen, as of all other beasts, he caused to be se­parated as the part, and right of our Lord. All the tithes of the men, he made Monkes, those of the woemen, Nunnes, for whom he built sufficient Monasteries, and assigned the tenth part of the Land, and the beasts to maintaine them in that sacred course of life. Whence it was, that within a short time, there was scarse anie ermita­ge, desert, or other corner of the Iland, neuer soe remote, that was [Page 286] not furnished with perfect monks, or Nunnes, in soe much that Ireland was by a speciall name rightly stiled the, ILAND of Ire [...], the Iland of Saincts. SAINCTS, all the world ouer. They liued according to the rules, and statutes prefixed them by S. PATRICK, till within some yeares after, all or most part of them receaued the rule of our holy father Sainct BENEDICT. In S. PATRICKS daies, and a long time after; noe man was eyther chosen Bishop, or promoted to the spirituall gouernment of soules, vnlesse he were first marked out for that pur­pose, by diuine reuelation, or some other euident signe of sainctitie.

XI. BVT hauing sayd thus much of his externall labours exercised His owne priuate exercises of deuotiō & austeri­tie. chiefly in the behalf of others, let vs turne a little towards his owne priuate exercises of deuotion, and manner of life; which was such & soe admirable, that it farre exceeds the bounds of this treatise, & the weaknes of this penne to de [...]lare worthily. He was wōt euerie day in the strength of his deuotion, to recite the whole Pfalter ouer, with manie other himnes, canticles, and prayers: he kneeled three hundred He kneeled 100. times a day. times a day, and armed him self with the signe of the holy crosse one hundred times in euerie hower of the day: and noe one day passed, wherein he did not most deuoutly celebrate the holy Sacrifice of Mas­se. The first part of the night, he spent in singing of psalmes, during which, he kneeled downe two hundred times. Then entring naked into cold water, he finished the rest of his deuotions in that suffe­tance. Afterwards lying downe vppon a bare stone, with a pillow of the same vnder his head, he refreshed his wearied bodie with a lit­tle shortsleepe; or rather he repayred his strength againe to endure the labour of his accustomed, and continuall conflicts. Being in the mea­ne time allwaies gyrt about with the rudenes of a sharp hay [...]cloath, to keepe downe the law of his bodie, from rising, and rebelling a­gainst the law of his mind. Till the fiftith fiue yeare of his age, he allwaies trauelled on foote, after the manner of the Apostles; but coming afterwards into Ireland when he was aduanted to the digni­tie of Bishop, he was carried about in a waggon vsed then in that countrey, by reason of his difficult iourneies & labours in preaching. Ouer his other garments he wore a slender white cowle, that his ha­bit it self might informe, and colour seeme to represent him as a pat­terne His habit, gesture, speech. of monasticall profession, and a pious student of innocencie, & humilitie. In his lookes, his countenance, his speech, his gate, and in [Page 287] euery other gesture or motion of bodie, he bred great edification to those that beheld him: and his discourse, allwaies seasoned with the salt of wisedome, was agreable to euerie age, sex, degree, and con­dition. For he was skilfull, and readie in [...]ower distinct languages, His guift of prophe­sie. the Welch, the Irish, the French, and the Latin; nether was he whol­ly ignorant of the Greeke. In the Jrish tongue he writt a booke of Prouerbs, full of good learning: and an other great volume called, Canoin Phadruig, that is, the Canons of Patrick, verie sitt to direct e­uerie secular, or Ecclesiasticall person in the exercising of iustice, and obtayning of their soules health. Besides all this, he was won­derfully endowed with the spiritt of prophesie, by vertue whereof he foretould verie manie things to come, and had the perfect know­ledge of things absent, as yf they had bin present within the view of his owne corporall eyes. And namely of the Saincts that should liue in Ireland, and specially within the Prouinces of Conaght, & Munster, for the space of a hundred yeares after, he foretould the names, ver­tues, and places of their habitation. Whomsoeuer he ether bound, or absolued, the diuine iustice approoued by euident signes to be bound, and absolued. Those vnto whom he imparted his benedictiō, receaued the Blessing of our Lord; and against whomsoeuer he pro­nounced the dreadfull sentence of his curse, appeared straight re­plenished with the effects of malediction. And whatsoeuer senten­ce proceeded from his mouth, seemed to remyane soe irreuocably ratified, as yf it had bin denoūced frō the tribunall of the allmightie Iudge. Whence we may manifestly gather, that the holy man firmly adhering vnto our Lord, became, one spiritt with him. But albeit in some and most of his vertues, he ether paralelled, or excelled other His won­der full humilitie. Saincts of Gods Church, yet in humilitie he ouercame him self: For in his epistles, & letters, he was wont to nominate him self, the lowest; left, and contemptiblest of all sinners. And making small ac­count of the wonderfull miracles, and signes he wrought, he would not da [...]e, to iudge him self equall to anie the meanest man in perfection. Nether amongst all these vertuous employments did he omitt to exercise him self in manuall labour, as in fishing, and til­ling the earth; but chiefly in building of Churches, he would both with word, and example incite his disciples to putt to their helping hands. When neuerthelesse, he did most instantly insist in baptising [Page 288] of the poeple, and ordering clergimen for Church-seruice. For he consecrated with his owne hands, three hundred and fiftie Bis­hops, he founded seauen hundred Churches: and promoted fiue His infinite miacles. thousand persons to the degree, and dignitie of priesthood. But of other clergimen of inferiour orders, of Monkes, and Nunnes which he segregated from the world to the diuine seruice, none but he can tell the number, who knoweth, and foreseeth all things. In this most holy manner, running ouer the daies of this present life to attayne to the desired prize, and reward of the future, he florished with soe manie, and soe great miracles, that therein he is second to none of the Saincts his predecessours. The blind, the lame, the dease, the dumb, the lunatick, the leapers, and all other diseased, and grieued persons, in the name of the Blessed Trinitie, and by vertue, of the holy Crosse of our redemption, he restored to perfect health, and the natutall function of their limmes. Among which, he is reported to haue bin the meruailous rayser of thirtie three from death to life, a thing not read of anie other sainct of Gods Church. Of which and other his miracles, & vertues, thereescore and six bookes are sayd to haue bin written, the greatest part whereof perished in the violence of fier, during the raygne of Gurmūd, & Turgesins. But fower treatises of his life writtē at diuers times, fower of his disciples. S. BENI [...]NVS his successor, S. MEL, & his nephew, LVMAN Bishops, & little S. PATRICK his deare child, are foūd yet extant. And S. EVIN allsoe cōpiled his life in one volume, partly in Latine, & partly in Jrish. Out all which Ioce­linus a Monk of Furne the authour of his life, whō wee haue followed in this historie, maketh profession to haue gathered his whole treati­se of S. PATRICK.

XII. AT length, the beloued seruant of allmightie God S. PATRICK, He fore­seeth his owne death loaden with age, and merits, hauing now faythfully, and strongly ended the course of the charge committed vnto him, foresaw, both by diuine reuelation, and the dissolution of his owne bodie, that the eue [...]ing of his life was at hand. And being in the Prouince of Ʋ [...]ster not farre from the cittie of Downe, and with him the pre­tious pearle of Jreland S. BRIGITT, and a great number more of Ecclesiasticall, and religious persons, as the blessed sainct preached vnto them of the heauenly glorie of the saincts; and the dwellings of the happie, a glittering light appeared ouer the East part of the [Page 289] Church-yard of Down which was supposed to deseigne the place or­dayned for his sacred buriall. And this being soe expounded by S. BRIGITT, the same light presently returned out of their sight towards heauen, to foreshew thereby that his Blessed soule should in like sort ascend to the ioics of Paradise. Then S. BRIGITT, who had He falleth [...]. a desire he should be wrapt in a shrowd which purposely she had made for that end, hastened to her monasterie to fetch it. When in the meane time the holy man retired him self to the next monasterie, where in the midst of a great multitude of his deuout monks, he layd him downe on the bed of his last sicknes, expecting the end of this mortall life, or rather happily aspiring to the beginning of the im­mortall. Vntill the disease growing still stronger drawne on with the weight of old age, or rather, our Lord calling him to a crowne of iu­stice; the most blessed, and happie bishop felt the hower of his death to draw-neere, and reioysed that now he was arriued at the secure hauē of life into which through the gates of death he hastened. Ther­fore being by the hands of S. THASACK Bishop, his disciple, armed with the diuine sacraments of the Church; and lifting vp his eyes His happie departure. to heauen, like an other saint STEPHEN, he beheld CHRIST IESVS in the midst of whole troupes of Angels, expecting to receaue him into the euerlasting ioyes, Into whose sacred hands, (blessing his disciples, and commending them to God) he deliuered vp his most pure soule, passing out the th [...]ldon of this world, to the ne­uer-dying [...]oies of heauen. O most blessed man to whom the hea­uens were layd open, whom togeather with a lillie white companie of Virgins, MARIS the imaculate Queene of heauen receiued, whom legions of Angels admitted into their diuine quiers, whom the fore­seeing troupe of holy prophets doe accompanie, whom the iudiciall Senate of the Apostles embraceth, whom the laureat crownes of sa­cred martirs bautifieth, the assēblie of glorious confessors adorneth, and whom an innumerable multitude of all Gods elect Saincts, and heauenly burgesses doe honour, and glorisie for euer.

XIII. HE DIED the seauēteēth day of March in the yeare of our Lord 493. in the first yeare of Anastasius the Emperour and in the hun­dred A summa­rie of his life. twētie third yeare of his age▪ At the age of sixteene, he was car­ried into banishment; six yeares he liued therein; eighteen yeares he spent vnder the tutorship of S. GERMAN and S. MARTIN his masters; [Page 290] at the age of fiftie fiue yeares, ennobled with the dignitie of Bishop, he entred into Jreland to preach; thirtie fiue yeares he laboured in the conuersion of that, and other Ilands; and the other thirtie three yeares, the remaynder of his whole life, he passed ouer, attending chiefly to the sweetnes of a contemplatiue life in a monasterie, so­metimes at Armagh, and sometimes in others places. Nether was he easyly drawne out of those sacred sainctuaries, but vppon the vr­gent occasion of some vneuitable and weightie affayre. Neuerthe­lesse, once in a yeare he was wont to summon a Prouinciall Coūcell; to reduce those that swerued from the truth, to the rules of the Ca­tholick Church. Being shrowded in the Linnen of S. BRIGITS proui­ding, he was buried with wonderfull great reuerence, honour, and glorie within the cittie of Down, in the verie place foreshewed by the light from heauen, on the east side of the Church. Ouer his tombe is writt a latin distick which in English goeth thus.

Whereby it is manifest that S. BRIGITT whose life you haue the first Psal. 8. of February, and S. COLVM [...]A Abbott of whom God willing we will treate the ninth of Iune, were both buried in the same Tombe with The con­clusion. S. PATRICK.

XIV. AND here I inuite all that haue read this historie, to crie out with the royall psalmist: O Lord, our how admirable is thy name through all the world, who hast crowned thy Sainct with glorie and honour, and seated him aboue the workes of thy hands. For these indeed are the works of thy hands, which soe much we admire, and wonder; the conuersion of a whole Countrey, by the vntired labours and endea­uours of this thy chosen and beloued seruant: for, him thou didest appoynt thy deputie, and lieuetenant in this holy, and wholesome affaire, wherein when diuers before had employed their greatest zeale and industry, yet because he was specially elected, and sele­cted by thee for this holy purpose, thou didest voutchase to adorne him with the working of manie strange and miracles, more then allmost anie other of thy Saincts, that on the rudiments, and foundations of those his predecessours, he might plant the consum­mation and perfection of the whole worke: These works and mi­racles [Page 291] are thine (o Christ only worker of worders) who euer truly wonderfull in thy Saincts daignest to glorifie them with soe great authoritie, and power, as they are able to glorie in the triumph pur­chased ouer the infernall enemies of mankind, God of his infinite goodnes make vs partakers of the meritts and prayers of the glo­rious, Sainct. Amen.

The life of Sainct EDWARD King and martir.
MAR 18. Written in an aū ­cient ma­nuscript recited by Surius

THE NOBLE King EDWARD lineally descended from the royall and auncient bloud of our English Kings: and which is farre more famous, being baptised by the most holy Archbishop of Can­bury S. DVNSTAN, he began from his tender yeares, to excell in ver­tue, [Page 293] and pietie of life. The incomparable King Edgar was his fa­ther, a man renowned as well in feats of armes, as in peace; his mo­ther was called Eifled, daughter of a most, powerfull duke of the East-Angles. But noble Edgar, hauing subdued not a few places of that land, and brought them vnder his subiection soe that he obtayned the Monarchie ouer all England deuided before between manie and diuers Kings, by exhortation of those two columnes of the English Church, and Benedistin religion S. DVNSTAN Archbishop The pieti [...] of Edgar. his father. of Canturbury, and S. ETHELWOLD of Winchester, caused manie Be­nedictin monasteries in those vanquished Prouinces to be repayred, and reedified at his owne cost & chardges, and some to be built new from the ground: and in some of them he placed Monks of S. BE­NEDICTS order, in others nunnes of the same, all which he fur­nished, and founded with ample rents, and reuenewes to main­taine therein the seruice and seruants of allmightie God from the iniuries of necessitie. He had allsoe by a second wife an other son­ne called Ethelred. But EDWARD, that was the elder, being a child of wonderfull great towardlines, carefully auoyded all the lasciuious & ensnaring pleasures of this world, and endeauoured soe to behaue him self towards God, and man, that before all things he ren­dred him self most pleasing vnto God, by his worthy integritie of mind and bodie: and to men he became most gratefull by his modest and courteous carriage in all things; shining withall to the world with all industrie, wisedome, and prudence. These things soe highly pleased his renowned father Edgar, that he ordayned him for his heyre and successour in the gouernment of the Kingdom: and wi­thin King Ed­gar dieth. a while, all the affayres of the Realme being rightly setled, and composed, the most pious, and glorious King Edgar, changed this life for a better, in the yeare of our Lord 977. and of his raigne the sixteenth, the eight day of Iuly.

II. EDWARD, according to his fathers will, was by DVNSTAN, and other Peeres of the Realme, installed in the royall chayre, and inuested with the robes and signes of royaltie: But on his verie Coronation day; manie of the nobles, and Lords made great opposition against him, in fauour of his yonger brother Ethelred, whom they desired to aduance to the crowne. Ne­uerthelesse the good resolution of saint DVNSTAN was Edward i [...] crowned King. [Page 294] nothing daunted herewith, nor mooued from his sentence; but placing in the midst the signe of the Crosse which was wont to be carried before him, togeather with other Bishops of the realme, he consecrated EDWARD their King: and embraced him euer after while he liued, with a true paternall loue, hauing from his tendrest yeares, adopted him to be his child. EDWARD therefore hauing taken into his hands the Scepter, and gouernment of the Kingdom, was by CHRIST the greatest, and chiefest King of Kings, directed in the way of truth and iustice; and albeit he were seated in the height of royall maiestie, yet he dayly encreased more and more in submission, and humilitie of mind. And the better to rule his His pru­dence in gouerning. Kingdom with the raines of prudence, he refused to vse the counsell of yong Princes, and Lords of light and youthfull heads; but obeyed in all things, the admonitions of the worthie Prelat S. DVNSTAM, and following his, and other graue religious mens counsell of approued life, he would pronounce his sen­tence in iudgement. And inheriting the vertues of his thrice His loue to Monkes. worthie father, with great strength and magnanimitie of mind he behaued him self in managing the affaires both of warlick, and Ecclesiasticall discipline: allwaies appearing seuere, and terrible to his enemies and other wicked persons, but (according to his fathers lesson) most curteous and humble to good men, and espe­cially to monks, and religious persons, whom allwaies he defended from all trouble, and vexation. Moreouer, his dayly exercise was to feed and mayntaine the poore, to cloath the naked, and to esteeme that his greatest gaine, which he bestowed in these pious works. Wherevppon, through the goodnes of allmightie God, great ioy, stedfast peace, and wonderfull abundance of wealth, and riches, florished all ouer England: to behold their king in the flower of his youth giuen to such pious endeauours, soe affable to all men, vene­rable in chastitie, pleasant and comly of countenance, and most excelling in prudence, and good counsell.

III. BVT THE common enemie of mankind being enuious at soe The malice of his Step­mother Al­frith. great vertue & pietie, endeauoured by all meanes to ouerthrow his happie deseignes, and to disturbe the generall peace and ioies of the whole realme: and to this end, he enkindled the wrath of Alfrith his Stepmother against him, who from the beginning, tooke it in ill part [Page 295] that he was preferred to the crowne, before her sonne Ethelred. And therefore this detestable ambitious woeman could noe lōger keepe fecret the wicked intentions of her mind, but cōmunicated thē vnto her impious consellers, desiring, and entreating them to fauour her designes, and inuent some way whereby they might depose ED­WARD out of his lawfull throne, & putt the scepter of the gouernmēt into the hands of her sonne Etheldred; and all this her factious mind endeuoured to bring to passe, not soe much, that he might gouerne, but that he beīg but a child gouerning, she her self might gett a fayre pretext to take the soueraigntie into her owne hands, which was the mayne marke of her endeauours. But who were her fauourites, and Hist. Eccl. sec. 10. cap 4. Gulmalm 2. de reg. cap. 9 Ba­ron. an. 975. counsellors in this practise of mischiefe? Those chiefly (sayth Nicho­las Harpsfield, following other Ecclesiasticall writers) were the secu­lar Clergie men, and their adherents, who greeued to see their chops bereaued of soe worthie a morsell by the monks. And among others Alfere Duke of Mercia stood stiffely for her cause. But whē he percea­ued that he could not satisfie his impotent desires, this champion of wickednes, turned all his wrath, and vnbridled crueltie, to the ruine, and destruction of all the Benedictin monasteries within his domi­nions. Till God, the allmigtie defender of his seruants, sent him af­terwards a deserued punishment, by the meanes of wormes, and lice which swarmed all ouer his bodie in such abundance, that they eate him vp aliue. But the importune Queene (who therein chiefly playd a woemans part) not able soe soone to disburden her mind of her Duke Al­fere punis­hed. preconceiued mischief, expected still a fitt occasion to putt her im­pious desires in execution.

IV. AND NOW the holy King EDWATD had raigned three yeares, and eight moneths, when it happened one day, that he went on hun­ting into a forrest neere the towne of Warrham in Dorsetshire, which at that time was great, and full of godly wood, although now there appeare nothing but bushes of brambles, & rubbish. Where hauing King Ed­ward goeth to visit his Brother E­thelred. wandred a while vp & downe after his game, he had a great desire to goe see his brother Ethelred, whō he loued dearly, & who was brought vp in a castle of his mothers called Corfe, but three miles distant from Warrham. Thither-ward the good King, accompained with some few of his followers bent his course; but his cōpanie, foolishly wandring after the pleasure of their owne game, and pastime, left [Page 296] the King alone, who being within view of his Stepmothers house, like an innocent lambe thinking nothing of the mischiefe and treason prepared, and knowing his owne conscience most free from offence of anie man, went securely thither alone. The Queene was presently aduertised of this coming; who reioycing to see a long expected occasion brought soe to her hand, and ma­king curtesie the outside of mischief, with a face as meaning noe guile, ranne forth to meete him, & cherefully saluted, and bad him welcome, desiring him to grace her and her sonne with his presence that night. The good King refused to light from his horse, saying that his coming was meerly to salute his brother, and talke with him. Then the false-hearted woeman, caused straight a He is mar­tired by the com­maund of Alfrith. cupp of wine to be brought him. The wine being come, the cupp was noe sooner at his mouth, when thinking noe harme, he felt a Knife in his back, which one of that treacherous Queenes seruants bolder in wickednes then the rest, and rea­dier to execute a mischief, fayning to salute the King, as Judas did our Sauiour, had violently strucken into his bodie. Ha­uing receaued this mortall wound, with all his strength remay­ning, he sett spurres to his horse thinking to returne to his more faythfull companie. Till fainting through losse of much bloud, he fell from his horse, and one foote being intangled in the stir­ropp, he was pittifully dragged vp and downe through woods, and lands, leauing all the way as he went, bloudie signes of his death to those that followed him. The bloudie scene of this bar­barous fact, was acted in the yeare of our Lord 981. Baronius sayth 978. and (which is horrible to be spoken) within the sacred time of lent, that is the eighteenth day of March. And doubtlesse it fell out soe, by a particular dispensation of the diuine prouidence, to the greater glorie of his holy Martir, that he, who according to the laudable custome, & institution of true Christians, did worthyly prepare him self to celebrate the most sacred time of our Lords Re­surrection, in mortifying his bodie with the annuall fast of lent, and other exercises of pietie and deuotion, meeting with a happie end, might be receaued into the pallace of euerlasting ioies, loaden with the fruicts of his good workes. But when the Queene vnder­stood His bodie i [...] hidden. that he was fallen dead from his horse (enuying him dead [Page 297] of Ecclesiasticall buriall, as aliue she did of his princely diadem) she caused his bodie to be cast secretly into the next cottage, lest her wickednes might come to light. Her cruell seruants obey their mis­cheeuous mistresse of impietie, and contemptibly cast it where they were commaunded, and couered it with a little straw.

V. IN that house where the bodie lay, was none but one poore woeman borne in blindnes, and she they supposed would tell noe A blind [...]oe n [...]u [...]ur [...]d at his body. more then she could see: who, the night following watching at vna­wares by the Sacred bodie, suddenly by the meritts of this B. Mar­tir soe recouered her long desired sight, and saw a great light, which filled her little house, with a wonderfull splendour: in memorie whe­reof, afterwards the Christians built a Church in the same place. On the morrow, the cruell Queene hauing learnt of the woeman what had past, she began verie pensiuely to feare lest the murder whereof she was mother, should come to be knowne. And therefore she com­maunded those Sacred reliques presently to be cast into a marsh neere adioyning, where togeather with his bodie she hoped to burie all memorie of him. And then among her owne seruants, and follo­wers she made publick mirth, and banquet, strictly commaunding His holy reliques are bur [...]ed in an obs­cure place. euerie each one to make noe shew of griefe or sorrow for his death. This done, to auoyd all suspicion of the murder com­mitted, she went to an other house of hers some ten miles distant from thence. But Ethelred her sonne (allthough herein nothing like his Mother) soe mournfully bewayled the death of his deare bro­ther, See the crueltie of a wicked▪ woeman. that he could nether containe his teares, nor would admitt anie consolation, or comfort. Which the cruell Queene tooke soe ill that in a ragefull furie she fell vppon him, (finding nothing else at hand) beate him with a handfull of wax candles soe long, till she forced him, yf not to qualifie, at left to bridle, and dis­ssemble his grief. But how allmightie God discouered the bo­die of this Glorious Martir, and brought it to be made famous, and miraculous to the world, we haue allreadie sayd on the feast of his translation the eighteenth day of February, whither I re­mitt my good reader. It only remaines no, that we make our dayly prayers to this Glorious Sainct, who is soe powerfull with allmightie God, to be mindfull of our sinfull wretchednes in this pilgrinage of miserie, and to obtaine pardon and grace [Page 298] for vs in this world, and life euerlasting in the next. And chiefly all those of the Benedictine familie, and profession, ought more peculiar­ly to powre out their deuotions to this Blessed Sainct, who was murdered in the defence, and protection of them, by the aduersa­ries, enemies, and enuiers of their order, and glorie. This life we haue gathered out of the authour thereof in an auncient manuscript recited by LAVRENCE SVRIVS tom. 2. and out of WILLIAM MALMES­BVRIE lib. 2. de reg. JOHN CAPGRAVE. NICOLAS HARPS­FIELD see. 10. cap. 4. BARONIVS an. 987 & 978. and others. The Ro­man martirologe maketh mention of him this 24. day of March; and in the Sarum Breuiary he hath an office of nine lessons, and in an auncient manu­script breuiary of S. BENEDICTS order which belonged to the monastery of Burton vppon Trent he is celebrated with on office of twelue lessons.

The life of Sainct CVTHBERT Bishop, and Confessor Monk of the holy order of S. Benedict.
MAR. 20. Written by vene­rable Be­de, in two bookes.

THE holy Prophet Jeremie furnisheth vs with a verie fitt beginning for the life of this most Glorious Prelat S. CVTHBERT, bright ornament of the Benedictin familie, when extolling the state of an anachoreticall life, he sayth: It is Thren. 3. [Page 300] good for a man to haue carried the yoake (of our Lord) from his youth. He will sit solitarie, and be silent, bicause he will lift him self abou [...] [...] self. For the B. man of God S. CVTHBERT, moued with the sweetnes of this soe great Good, sub [...]red his necke to the yoake of a [...]asticall pro­fession, from the beginning of his youth; and takin [...] [...] him so­metimes as [...]casion serued, a [...] Anachoreticall co [...]on; he was delighted to sitt in solitarines, and through the del [...]ous pleasure he found in [...], to keepe his lipps silent from all worl­dly discourse. But to the end that in rip [...] yeares he might more pro­fitably [...] these [...] he [...] with a heauenly gra­ce by [...] and [...] to embrace the waies of truth, and Goo [...]. [...] the [...] of eight yeares, he was only delighted in all [...] sports, & pasti [...]es which that age His chil­dhood. is wont to follow, euer desiring to be with the first at boyish mee­tings, and [...] And bei [...]g of a [...] witt, and by nature [...] wont for the most part to g [...]tt [...] all his [...] in [...]eaping, run­ning, wrestling, or ani [...] other such exercise: in soe much that when they were all wearies, he like an vn [...]amed litle champion, and Vi­ctour of [...]ll, would [...] ani [...] were disposed to buckle with [...] ani [...] in [...] the fields in the heate of these [...] sports [...] pleased [...] God to touch him with a [...] contrarie spirit For a little child but three yeares old C [...]bert being a c [...]ld, i [...] di­u [...]nely war­ned by a child. as it seemed, ranne to him, and with an aged constancie beganne se­riously to exhort him to forsake those childish exercises, and to be­take [...] a more modest, and grane manner of life. But he slighting [...], as he thought, ba [...] admonitions, repayed them home [...]ith iniurious words: when the child fell flat on the earth, & with a [...]ittifull countenance blubberd with teares, spake to CVTH­BERT who came to comfort him, with these words: O most holy God is [...] his sainct. Bishop CVTHBERT, it is not seemly for thee to play the child amōgst children, whom allmightie God hath ordayned, and destined to be a master of vertue vnto auncients. CVTHBERT gaue diligent eare hereunto, and this speech remayned fixt in his mind, the same holy spiritt instructing him inwardly in his soule, that by the mouth of the infant spake openly to his hearing. And to giue him a fur­ther warning, he was suddenly taken with such an exceeding [Page 301] paine and contraction in one of his knees, that by no meanes he was able to goe. Till being carried forth one day into the fields a litle to recreate his spiritts with the sight of those greene carpets of natu­re, and reposing him self vnder the open heauens he preceaued a horseman exceedingly shining in apparell, come towards him, who demaunded yf he would shew anie seruice or dutie to such a guest; most willingly (replied CVTHBERT shewing his knee) did not this paine hould me prisonner for faults past. For this is a griefe, which exceeds all art of phisick to remedie. Hereat the horseman lighted, & diligētly viewing, & reviewing the sore, Boyle (sayd he) some whea­ten flower in milk, and applie it hott to the swelling, & thou shalt be He is cured of a payne in his knee cured. This sayd, he ridd swiftly on his way, and at the same instant CVTHBERT came to know that he was an angel sent from God. And frō that time, this deuout child (as he him self was wont to assure his familiar friends) being often-times besett with aduersities, through his prayers to allmightie God, deserued to be garded by an An­gel; & by the same meanes, to deliuer others out of the streights of manie eminent dangers.

II. BVT it happened afterwards, that he was turned to the wild mountaines to become a sheapheard; where as one night, all his fellowes being asleepe, he watched carefully ouer his flock, and pas­sed ouer the teadious howers of the night in prayer, he beheld a glit­tering light, which dispersed the nights horrid shades, and a great troupe of bright shining creatures which came downe from heauen, & carried vp the soule of S. AIDAN Bishop of Lindisfarne, a man of wonderfull vertue, and pietie, to the ioyes of euerlasting happines. Being greatly astonished, and reioyced with this vision. If for one nights watching, and prayer (sayd he to him self) I haue deserued to behould such wonders, what reward shall I receaue, yf I bend all the forces of my soule, wholly to the contemplation of diuine things? And at the same instant he resolued to forsake his flocks, and embrace a monasticall life. Therefore, shaking off the fetters of the world he departed thence, and entred into the way of heauen, trauelling night, and day alone without eyther meate or drinke, to find out a quiet hauen wherein he might securely harbour at the sweete shore of contemplation. At length he arriued at a Village, where he stayed only to refresh his wearied horse, for he him self [Page 302] could not be entreated to tast anie foode, because it was Friday which he fasted in honour of our Lords passion. Thence therefore he Fasting on Fridaies. departed fasting, and held on his iourney through deserts, and for­lorne places, which he could not ouercome before he was ouertaken with night, soe that he was constrained at length to lodge in a poore forsaken cabbin, expecting the next day-light. Where falling to his prayers, as his custom was, greatly moued with compassion to see the poore beast his horse quite toiled, and tired out with the iourney, allmost fainting for want of food, he gathered vpp a hand­full of hay which the wind had blowne of that weake cottage, and gaue it him to eate: which done, againe he betooke him self to his prayers, for the space of a long hower. When in the meane time, he saw his horse lift vpp his head, and (hunger compelling him the­revnto) He is fed miracu­lously. he began to vnthatch that poore cabbin, still drawing it downe by morsels, till at length there fell out a white linnen cloath wrapt vp togeather; which the holy yong man perceiuing, hauing ended his deuotions, he opened it, & found therein half a hott loafe, and as much meate as was sufficient for one meale. Being greatly astonished hereat, he lifted vp his hands, and eyes towards heauen, and gaue thanks vnto allmightie God: I acknowledgs, o Lord, (sayd he) that it is the bountie of thy goodnes, which hath voutcha­fed to feed me in this forlorne sollitude; as in times past thou didest nourish Elias in the desert.

III. AT length he arriued at the desired end of his iourney the mo­nasterie of Mailros, where at his first coming, he was prophetically commended by a holy man named Boisil, who noe sooner beheld CVTHBERT, but he cried aut to the assistants; Behould a true ser­uant of God: and hauing vnderstood his pious desires, he made them He taketh the habitt of a monk. knowne vnto the holy Abbot Eata, who presently gaue him the Benedictin habitt, and tonsure; whereby being ranged vnder the spi­rituall warrfare of IESVS CHRIST, he became straight an in­uincible champion therein, excelling all his other brethren in wat­ching, fasting, and prayer, and other exercises of a monasticall life. And after some yeares, king Alchfrid hauing bestowed some land at Rippon for the building of a new monasterie, Eata made choise of CVTHBERT, with other religious Monks, to furnish the same, vnder the same rule, and monasticall discipline as the other. And within [Page 303] a while, he was put into the office of receauing and entertayning the guests, and other poore pilgrims which came to the monasterie, whe­rein he discharged his dutie with soe great ioy, and diligence, that euerie one highly commended their good entertaynment, and his extraordinarie good will. Goeing forth early one morning to visitt He enter­tayneth a [...] Angel in a human [...] shape. the cell of his guests, he found amongst the rest, a yong man of a verie beautifull countenance, and taking him to be a man indeed, he entertayned him after his sweet manner of courtesie, gaue him water for his hands, washed and dried his feet, couered the table, and let passe noe dutie of his charitable office. And as he vrged him to eate, and repaire his forces weakened with trauelling, the guest re­fused. I coniure thee by the name of allmightie God (replied CVTH­BERT) to refresh thy felf a litle, whilest I goe fetch thee a loafe of He recea­ueth three loaues of an Angel. bread newly bakt. He went, and returning with all speed possible, found that his new guest was gone: whereat being much amazed, he sought, in the snow newly fallen, to trace which way he was gone; but finding no signe of him, he was more amazed then before; and casting his eyes about, he perceaued that he had left three milke white loaues behind him, from which came a most sweet odour, and then, with trembling he began to imagine, that it was an Angel he had entertayned, who came not to be fedd but to feed. And from that time, his vertues all waies encreasing, he was dayly adorned mo­re and more with heauenly fauours; for he deserued often times to see, and conuerse with angels, & to haue his hunger refreshed with heauenly meates, seasoned by angelicall hands. And because he was affable, and pleasant in his discourse, and behauiour, for the most part when he proposed the pious workes of the auncient fathers for patternes of good life to his brethren, he was wont allsoe humbly to intermingle what speciall graces, and fauours the diuine goodnes had bestowed on his owne person. And this he would doe some times openly and plainly, and some times more hiddenly, vnder the name of a third person, according to the example of the great Do­ctour of the Gentils S. PAVL.

IV. BVT within a short time, Ea [...]a the Abbot was compelled to leaue the monasterie he had built, and returne with CVTHBERT, and the rest of his Monkes to Mailros. Where CVTHBERT holding on the pious course of his monasticall life, gouerned him self, and [Page 304] his actions chiefly by the good counsell, & admonitions of the most holy man Boisil, Priour of that place. At that time a great plague ma­king He is strā ­gely reco­uered of the Plague houock all ouer the countrey, laid hould of him allsoe; for whose health, as a most necessarie, and profitable member of that mo­nasticall bodie, all his brethren fell night, and day to their prayers. Which coming to the holy mans knowledge: And why (sayd he) doe I keepe my bed anie longer? For doubtlesse the prayers of such, and soe manie holy men, cannot be voyd of effect before allmightie God. No, no, giue me my staffe; and rising at the same instant, he committed his weake bodie to the supportment of his legges, and staffe, when to the great admiration of all the assistants, he straight re­couered his strength, and perfect health. Afterwards S. BOISIL being dead, CVTHBERT succeeded in the gouernment of the monasterie: Which office de discharged with wonderfull great example of ver­tue, and diligence, not only for the spirituall profitt of his owne domesticques, but allsoe by his fruitfull endeauour in conuerting the common poeple thereabouts, from the bad waies of their vices, and fond customs, to the loue of heauen, and heauenly ioyes; partly by the good example of his vertuous, and holy life, partly with his wholsom sermons, and exhortations, and partly by the miraculous curing of manie diseases. For diuers of that countrey had profaned their fayth, and religion, with their wicked & vniust practises, and some neglecting the Sacrament of their Christian baptisme, made vse of diabolicall, and magicall phisick, to ridd them selues, and their countrey of the plague. To remedie these euils, the holy man trauclled through that countrey, preaching, & teaching the way of truth, and iustice vnto all, with verie great profitt, and fruict of his pious labours. For he had soe great skill in teaching, such an amia­ble Confession of sins, & enioyning [...] penance force in perswading, & bore such an angelicall maiestie in his coū ­tenāce, that manie forsaking their wicked life, of theyr owne accord, would reueale, and confesse their most secret, & hidden offences (for they imagined nothīg could lie hid frō him) & being cōfessed willin­gly vnderwent the workes of peanance, which he enioyned them for satisfaction of their sinnes. But he was wont chiefly to visitt those His labour in prea­ching. places, and preach in those villages, which were seated in the rude and rugged mountaines, and hard to come at, where by reason of the rusticitie of the poeple, and barrennes of the places, they were [Page 305] in great want of teachers. In these places, which bred a horrour to other men, were his greatest delights, and in these, he would stay sometimes a weeke togeather, sometimes two, three, yea a whole moneth, neuer returning to his monasterie, but labouring with his dayly preachings, and examples of good life, to reduce that rude poeple, to the true knowledge, and loue of allmightie God.

V. IN THE meane time, the holy man began to excell in the spiritt of prophesie, to foretell things to come, and to declare things absent. For being vppon some important necessitie of his mo­nasterie to take shipping, with two other monks to passe ouer into the land of the Pists, called Niduars, and the faire calmnes of the weather putting them in hope to make a speedie returne, they went forth wholly vnfurnished of prouision in victualls: but it fell out otherwise, for they were noe sooner on land, but there arose such a blustering and tempestuous wind, that the sea, moued with those fu­rious blasts, began-allsoe to be puft vp into whole mountaines of outragious waues, which hindred them quite from thinking how to returne: soe that being there among the cruelties of cold, and hunger for the space of some daies, they were allmost starued to death through want of victuals; when the holy man was neuer idle, but watching night and day in prayers, comforted his fellowes with pious discourses, inuited them to fall to their prayers, and com­mitt them selues into the hands, and protection of allmightie God, Hee fee­deth him self and his followes by mir [...]cle. who doubtlesse would succour them in this necessitie, as he did the children of Israel in the desert. And now (sayd he) let vs goe to find out what sustenance our Lord hath sent vs, his seruāts. Then leading them vnder the bāke where he had prayed a little before, they found three peeces or portions of dolphins flesh, readie cutt to be boiled; with which, they satisfied their hunger, and gaue thankes vnto all­mightie God for his benefitts. You see, deare brethren (sayd he) how great a grace it is to be confident in allmighty God. Behould he hath He forel­leth things to come. not only sent food to his hungrie seruants but by the number of three, signifies how manie daies we must yet remayne here, before the tempest cease. And it fell out as the holy man foretould.

VI. GOEING forth one day to preach, accompanied only with a litle boy, and being both wearied with their iourney, and destitute of anie foode to repayre their weakened forces; Tell me child [Page 306] (sayd the holy man) what courage thou hast by this time seeing that we haue nether meate nor drinck to satisfie our hunger, nor noe place whither to retire our selues for shelter. That is it (replied he) which greatly troubles mee, since we haue ne­ther victuals, nor money to buy, not friend to assist vs. Be confident An Eagle furnisheth him with meate. my Child, in the goodnes of allmightie God (answeared CVTHBERT) and rest assured that he will neuer abandon those in time of neces­sitie, who giue them selues faythfully and with all their hearts to his diuine seruice. Doest thou see that Eagle yonder which flies in the ayre, marke her well, for by her meanes our Lord will send vs succour in this extremitie. With such like discourse they held on their iourney by a riuer side, when the Eagle hauing taken a fish laid it for them vppon the bancke: the owne half whereof, the holy man caused to be left for their diuine puruey or, and with the remain­der he refreshed himself, and his companion in the next village; yielding most heartie thanks to the diuine goodnes for his benefitts, where he allsoe sed the poeple with the spirituall food of the ghospell.

VII. BVT AS he preached in one of those Villages, the Deuill The deuill seeking to hinder his preaching. a perpetuall enuier of goodnes, fearing left he should draw his mi­nistres out of the stench of their vices, to the sweetnes of pietie and deuotion, cast a fantasticall fier into a house neere to the Church, during the time of his sermon. But the holy man, instructed by the diuine spiritt, that is was but a deceipt of his hellish malice, warned his auditors to listen only to the word of God, & not to suffer them selues to be deceiued with those vaine illusions. But the giddie mul­titude terrified with the apprehensiō of that fantastick dāger, ranne allmost all out of the Church, to quench those false flames; which they could not doe, allbeit they powred on true water, vntill by the prayer of S. CVTHBERT the authour of those fallacies being putt to Is putt to flight. flight, his vaine flashes vanished togeather with him into the ayre. Whereat the poeple much astonished, and ashamed, humbly on their knees acknowledged their follie, & demaunded pardon for that soe great lightnes, and inconstancie. Nether did he only commaund these fantastick fiers, but allsoe true flames too, which whē a whole Village could not quēch with great store of cold water, were by the seruent streames of his teares, and prayers, vtterly extinguished, and [Page 307] manie houses deliuered, that at once were in danger to be deuou­red by that mercilesse Element. Whereby in these two miracles, he worthyly imitated the vertues of two worthie auncient Saincts; in chasing away the fayned fier, that of our most holy father S. BE­NEDICT, of whom S. GREGORY the Great reporteth the like; and in the other the act of M [...]ircellinus the most venerable Bishop of Anchona, who when the same cittie was all in fier, by his prayers miraculously deliuered it. Most fitly therefore vnto these holy men, that of the prophet Esay may be applied: When thou shalt passe Esay. 43. through the fier, thou shalt not be burnt, and the flame shall not burne against thee.

VIII. BVT LET vs now see of what power this holy man was against the open furie, and warre of this hellish fiend. Hildmer Prefect vnto A woeman possessed with the deuill: King Egsrid, had a verie deuout wife, verie much giuen to religious, and Catholick workes; who one day being bufied in exercises of pietie, giuing of almes to the poore, at the same instant, she was sud­denly possessed with the deuill, which made her roare out with such horrid cries, and howlings, that they gaue sufficient testimonie of the great danger she was in. Her husband, that was well beloued of S. CVTHBERT, posted vnto him in great hast, and tould him into what a perillous disastre his wife was fallen, entreating him againe and againe, by all the force of his affection, to be mindfull of her in his prayers, and to send a Priest to minister the venerable sacrament of the Eucharist vnto her, who was now come to the periode of her life, Thus he sayd meaning to hide her disease, being ashamed to let him vnderstand that she was possessed by the deuill, (as suppo­sing it to be a punishment for some secret enormious crime.) The holy man foreseeing the perplexitie of his soule, and the torments of his wife: Wherefore (replied he) hast thou conceaued soe bad an opinion of thy wife? Not only the wicked, and such as haue quite forsaken the seruice of allmightie God, are in this life subiect to the tortures, and racks of the deuill, but the innocent allsoe, and such manie times as are endowed with great sainctitie of life, by the secret iudgment of God, are tried and exercised in this world, with such like torments. But be of good courage, I will goe my self along with thee, and before we be there, we shall find thy wife deliuered Is deliue­red by to [...] ching his bridle. out of this distresse. And as they drew neere to the house, where [Page 308] that poore captife lay languishing, sudainly the wicked spiritt, (being not able to abide the approach of the holy spiritt which in­habited his vertuous soule) fled away, and left the woeman released out of those deuilish bands: who rising as it were out of a deepe lethargie, ranne ioyfully to salute the holy man, and ta­king hould only of his bridle, she was presently as sound and perfect as euer, which caused her to breake into infinite ioy, and thanks­giuing; testifieing withall that then first she was prefectly cured, when she touched his horses bridle.

IX. IN THESE, and such like workes of vertue the holy man ha­uing spent manie yeares in the monasterie of Mailros, his good Ab­bot Eata sent him to the monasterie of Lindisfarne, to plant there allsoe the Rule of monasticall perfection and made him superiour thereof. For Lindisfarne, allbeit it were a bishoprick, yet the Bishop and all his cleargie were monks, from S. AYDAN their first Bishop who was a Monk: but S. CVTHBERT was the first that reduced them to the rule and order of S. BENEDICT. For coming (sayth S. BEDE in his life) to the Church or Monasterie of Lindisfarne, he presently Here for­meth the Monks of Lindisfar­ne to S. Be­nedicts rule. deliuered monasticall institutions to the monks there, both by word, and work, But there were some brethren in the monasterie, who chose rather to follow their auncient custom, then obey a Re­gular obseruance. Whom he notwithstanding ouercame with the modest vertue of his patience, and by dayly exercise conuerted them by litle and litle to a state of better purpose. But disputing often­times in the cōuent of the Rule. (Which was that of S. BENEDICT, since at that time there was noe other rule extant in the latine Church) when he His great patience. was toyled with most sharpe iniuries of those that contradicted him, he would rise from his seate, and without anie shew of discontent, ether in mind, or countenance, depart and dismisse the Conuent for that time. But on the morrow, as yf he had endured noe resi­stance the day before, he would repeate the same admonitions to the same auditours, vntill by little and little (as we haue sayd) he had brought them to his owne desires. For he was a man verie ex­cellent in the vertue of patience, and most inuincible in enduring couragiously all aduersities, which opposed them selues against him ether in soule or bodie; and noe lesse bearing a merrie countenance in all disastrous and sad mischances: soe that he gaue the world to [Page 309] vnderstand, that being armed with the internall consolation of the holy ghost, he contemned all externe misfortunes. Moreouer he His won­derfull was ching. was soe wonderfully giuen to watching and prayer, that sometimes for three or fower nights togeather, he tooke no sleepe at all. And yf perchaunce (as mans nature is) sleepe forcebly seised vppon him, he was wont to shake off both it, and teadiousnes in his prolixe prayers, eyther with manuall labour, or goeing about the Iland, di­ligently searching how all things were caried, and managed. And when some others of his brethren did complaine, and take it verie grieuously, yf anie one chaunced to awake the out of their mightly, or noonly sleepes, he contrariwise was wont to say, that such an one calling vppon him, was farre more gratefull then troblesom. For he is cause (sayth he) that shaking of sluggishnes I settle my self to some Rare exā ­ples of goodnes. good worke, or meditation. He was soe exceedingly giuen to cōpun­ction of heart, & soe ardently inflamed with heauēly desires, that he neuer celebrated the holy solemnities of masse, but with an abundāt shedding of teares: worthyly imitating thereby the misterie he had in hand; when offering vp the sacrifice of our Lords bitter passion, he allsoe sacrificed him self to God by inward contrition of his deuout soule. He was feruent & seuere in the zeale of iustice to correct sin­ners: but verie mild in pardoning the penitent; in so much, that ma­nie times hearing the confessions of sinners, he him self pittying their pittisull estates, would burst out into teares, shewing the sinner what he ought to doe, by his owne example. With these and such other spirituall exercises, this Venerable man engraffed in the hearts of good men a singular affection to imitate his vertues, and recalled those that were stubborne and rebellious to a regular life, out of the obstinate opinions of their errour.

X. AFTER he had spent some yeares in that monasterie, he He embra­ceth a soli­tary life. obtayned leaue of his Abbot and brethren, to betake him self to the sweet lonelines of a long desired solitude, reioycing that from the exercise of an actiue life, he was thought wor­thie to ascend to the leasure of diuine contemplation. He depar­ted therefore into the Iland FARNEN, soe infamous by the habitation, and infection of deuilish spiritts, that none durst euer before dwell there alone. But this Ice our holy CVTHBERT brake, when like a worthie champion, armed with the helmet [Page 310] of health, the bucklar of Fayth, and the sword of the spiritt, which is the word of God, he opposed him self against that hellish crew, and dissipated, dissolued, and putt to flight all their, infernall troupes. And this chāpiō of CHRIST hauing subdued the forces of these black Tirans, and now made monarke of that little land, he built a cittie befitting his empire, and houses therein agreeing vnto it. Which was a little poore cottage with mudd walles made of turfe, and co­uered with straw, and in that earthen lodge this holy domesticque He obtay­neth a foü­taine by his prayers. lead a heauenly and angelicall life. But his habitation being de­stitute of water (following an other miracle of our great father S. BENEDICT) he obtayned by his prayers to Allmightie God, to haue a sweet cristall fountaine spring out of the hard rock, with which, and a little bread, which was sometimes bestowed vppon him, he satisfied his thirst and hunger. In this place being visited by his brethren, he would goe out of his cell to meete them, and wash their feet with warme water and sometimes, being compelled therevnto, he would permitt them to wash his feete. For soe farre he had turned his mind from the decking of his bodie, to labour in the adorning of his soule, that sometimes for a whole moneth togeather, nay for the space of a yeare, he did not once putt off his shoes. Whence it was, that through his continuall praying, and kneeling a great thicknes of hard skinne was growne ouer his feete. Then his desire of perfection His ex­treme soli­tarines. dayly encreasing, he shutt him self close prisoner in his house of clay, leading a most solitarie life, in continuall watching, fasting, and prayer, admitting verie few to talke with him, and that but through a window, and vppon some important necessitie. He liued by the la­bour of his hands digging and tilling the earth, & sowing it first with wheate, which his brethrē brought him, but that his weake lād would not bring to good; therefore he sowed it with barley, which encrea­sed in great abundance. When the byrds, that in great troupes sought to deuour his li [...]le haruest, were forced at his only cōmaūd to depart, The byrd o [...] the ayre obey his commaund & neuer more touched his corne. The like he commaunded, and was obeyed by the crowes, and dawes, which laboured to teare off the thatch of his humble buildings. But one of them returning againe to the holy mā, lamētably spreading her wings abrode, bowing downe her head, & making a pittifull noise, seemed by all signes possible, to entreate pardon. Which the holy man vnderstanding, gaue her leaue [Page 311] to returne, as presently she did, bringing a mate with her, & for a pre­sent to the Sainct, the one half of a hoggs grease, which the holy man The seas, and ele­ments ser­ue him. was wont afterward to shew oftentimes to the monks his brethrē, & giue them part of it to liquour their shoes or bootes. See here againe the spiritt of his great Master S. BENEDICT, in the obedience, & ser­uice of the crowes. But not only the creatures of the ayre, waters, & earth, but the verie elemēts themselues, obeyed him, yea & the vntu­ly waues of the seas did serue him, when they cast vpon land a peece of timber iust of the length he desired, with which his brethren, con­trarie to promise, had forgotten to furnish him before, & weere now much abashed to see an insensible elemēt, more carefull to serue him, then they. Whilst thus he liued in his solitarie course, manie out of all parts of Englād drawne thither with the fame of his vertues, came to visite him: whence none euer returned but very well satisfied, cōfor­ted, and deliuered from what anguish or trouble soeuer, eyther of mind or bodie. Vnto S. ELFLED Abbesse, he foretould the time of King Egfrid her brothers death, & who should be his successor, with manie other particularities, all which truely fell out afterwards.

XI. BVT a Councell being held at Adtwiford vnder S. THEODORE Archbishop of Canturbury in the presence of King Egfrid, by the cō ­mon present and desire of all, CYTHBERT was chosen bishop of Lin­disfarne. Who being by manie letters, and legats sent from the King & He refu­soth a bi­shoprick. Councell called to the Sinod, and to receaue that charge, he would not stirre a foote; soe vnworthie, he that was most worthie, iudged him self of that dignitie. At length good King Egfrid him self togea­ther with the most holy bishop Trumwine, & manie other religious, & noble persons, went ouer into the Ilād, & falling all vpon their knees before the holy man, with weeping teares, & humble entreaties they besought him, and coniured him by the name of our Lord not to re­sist the wishes and desires of soe manie, and to oppose him self to the cōmon good of the Church: nether did they cease vntill CVTHBERT, He is com­pelled to take it. as full of teares and sorrow as an honest heart could be, suffered him self to be drawne, out of his beloued cell of solitarines, and brought into the Councell: where being vehemently vrged of all, he was compelled much against his will, to yield to their desires.

XII. THE Easter following, he was cōsecrated Bish. of Lindisfarne, in presence of the King, blessed Theodore of Cāturbury & 7. other bishops, [Page 312] at Yorke. In which office, he soe worthily dischardged him self that he omitted nothing of those duties, which are wont, or ought S. Cuth­bert made Bishop of Yorke. to be performed of the perfectest, and holiest prelats of the Church, protecting his flock with his dayly prayers, feeding it with his ver­tuous, and piousad monitions, & (which best becomes all teachers) making his owne example and outward manner of conuersation the perfect rule of what he taught. And of his internall vertues & perfe­ction, the signes and miracles which he wrought as he trauelled ouer Manie mi­racles. his diocesse preaching, teaching, and confirming his poeple, gaue suf­ficiét testimonie. One Baldhelm a seruāt of one of King Egsrids noble men, and the wife of a great Count, drinking only of the water hal­lowed by his prayers, were both suddenly & perfectly cured of most grieuous, and mortall diseases, when all men quite despayred of their health. An other holy Virgin, who a long time had layn languishing of a grieuous payne in her head, and side, being annointed with holy oile hallowed by S. CVTHBERT, felt her self better at the verie same instant, and within a few daies was perfe­ctly cured. And Hildmer an officer of King Egsrid, in drinking a little water into which was putt some bread hallowed by S. CVTH­BERT, receaued a perfect recouerie of a disease incurable by anie hu­mane skill.

XIII. As ONCE he visited his diocese, he chaunced to come among the rude mountaines and rocks, to teach, and confirme those ru­stick poeple; who not hauing anie Church neere to receaue the holy man into, they erected tents, and boothes in the way, such as they could make of boughs, & branches cutt from the greene trees: where he remayned for the space of two dayes, preaching, & ministring the The sacra­ment of confirma­tion giuen by S. Cuth He cureth two of the Plague. sacrament of Confirmation, to such as had not yet receaued it: whē in the midest of all, behould there came some woemen to him car­rying a youth grieuously infected with the plague, humbly desiring the helpe of his holy prayers & benediction; by vertue of which pre­sently he restored that diseased person to perfect health, whose disease had allreadie giuen the foile to all the skill of phisick. But hauing receaued his holy benediction, he whose weaknes was carried thither walked home with the rest in health and iol­litie. In like manner he cured an other child dying of the plague by giuing him a kisse, and making the signe of the Crosse [Page 313] vppon him. And by vertue of the same Crosse he turned water into wine. But we should neuer haue an endyf we rehearse all his ver­tues in particular.

XIV. THEREFORE hauing exercised the office, and dignitie of a Bishop for the space of two yeares, with an admirable applause both He leaueth his Bisho­prick, and returne to the desert. of holines, and miracles; foreseeing by the spiritt of prophesie, that the hower of his death was at hand, he resigned vp his pastorall char­ge, and withdrew him self againe to the beloued habitation of his solitarie, and eremiticall life, there to consume with the flames of his auncient compunction, whatsoeuer staines he had contracted in the managing of his worldly care, and charge. At that time of his departure being demaunded by one of his ancient monks, when they should hope for his returne: He answeared; When you shall carrie my bodie hither. And hauing passed ouer allmost two moneths, in the great ioy of his recouered quietnes, bruising his mind, and bodie with the rigour of his accustomed peanance; being taken with a sudden infirmitie, he began through the fiers of a temporall grief, to prepare his way to the sweet ioies, and refreshments of eternall hap­pines. Three weekes togeather he was continually afflicted with sicknes, vppon a wednsday he fell first into his disease, and vppon a wednsday he died. But what sore grieuances he endured all this time as well by his sicknes, as the infernall spirits, it is not easie to ex­presse; especially for the space of fiue daies, in which being destitute of all humane helpe, and companie, he was not able to mooue out of the place; and being tormented with an extremitie of thirst, he had nothing wherewith to refresh him self and quench it, but one poore onion, of which in those fiue dayes space, he had scarse con­sumed the one half. Then he desired his brethren to burie him in the same Iland of Farne, on the East side of his Oratorie nere vnto a Crosse, which him self had there erected: but being ouercome with the vehement persuasions, and earnest entreaties of the monks of Lindisfarne, with much difficultie, he consented they should burie him in their Church. And at the same time, a monk which only touched Touching the holy Bishop cu­reth the bloudie fluxe. his bodie, as he assisted him in his sicknes, was cured of an other­wise incurable disease of the blouddie fluxe. At length coming to the extremitie of his infirmitie, which scarse allowed him strength to speake, he began to bid his last adiew to his brethren; earnestly [Page 314] recommending vnto them the obseruance of mutuall peace and cha­ritie, the care of keeping hospitalitie; and aboue all things, he strictly chardged them to remaine in the vnitie of the Church, and in noe sort to haue anie communication with those, who contrarie to the rites, and custom of the same Catholick Church, swearued from the Scismatic­ques must be auoyded true obseruance of Easter: and he wished that they should rather leaue their monasterie, and goe seek an habitation where it should please God to direct them, then to vnite with such who like Schis­maticks, celebrated the feast of Easter at a wrong time. Moroeuer, endeauour most diligently (sayd he) to learne, and obserue the Ca­tholick statuts of our forefathers; and particularly be verie carefull to follow those institutions, of regular life, which by my mea­nes, the diuine goodnes hath voutchafed to bestow vppon you. For His depar­ture, and buriall I know, allthough in the iudgement of some I haue liued contemp­tibly, yet after my death, it will appeare what manner of man I haue bin; and how my doctrine is not to be contemned. With these, and such like words, this holy man hauing exhorted his dolefull brethrē, and the night following hauing armed him self with the Sacred Via­ticum of our Lords bodie, lifting vp his hands, and eyes towards heauen, he yeelded vp his Blessed soule to the euerlasting ioies of heauen, the twentith day of March; in the yeare of our Lord 698. as sayth Baronius, but 687. according to Sigebert. His Sacred bodie was brought to Lindisfarne, and there receaued by the conuent of Monks, singing the prayles of allmightie God, and with the resoun­ding notes thereof, it was buried with great solemnitie in S. PETERS Church, in a coffin of stone, on the right side of the aultar; where with working of new miracles, he witnessed the greatnes of the glo­rie, and fauour he enioyed before the face of allmightie God.

XV. THERE was a child soe vehemently oppressed, & tormented by A Child miracu­lously dis­possossed by the me­rit [...] of S. Cuthbert. the deuil, that noe prayers nor exorcismes could worke anie good towards his deliuery from that wicked guest, vntill a priest hauing compassion on his dolefull parents, tooke some of that earth, where­on the water was shed wherewith S. CVTHBERTS bodie was washt, & powred it, being dissolued in a little water, into the mouth of that tortured infant, whē presently after manie fearfull cries, & lamētable howlings, he that before breathed nothing but furie, and madnes, fell into a most quiet, & sweet sleepe; and the next morning, he found [Page 315] him self wholly released from his accustomed rage, and phrensie, pro­fessing that he was freed frō that seruitude of the deuill that oppres­sed him, by the meritts, & intercession of S. CVTHBERT. Surely it was a miracle, and a spectacle most delightfull to all good men, to see that child walke the rounde of the holy Sepulchre with his father, & with a sound mind and iudgemēt, render thanks vnto the Saincts for their assistance, who but the day before, through madnes, rage, & fu­rie, nether knew him self, what he was, nor where he was. The place where the foresayd water was powred, is by the Church where he was buried, towards the south. And from that time, manie miracu­lous cures were wrought with the sam [...] earth, a long time after. But to the end that the saīctitie of this glorious soule might be made mo­re notable, & famous ouer the world, it happened (God soe disposing it for his greater glorie) that eleuē yeares after his decease, vppo some occasiō the mōks would needes take vp his Sacred bones (imagining the flesh to he turned to that it came off) to sett thē in a more eminet place, or monument aboue ground. Whereunto holy Eadbert his suc­cessour After 11. yeares his bodie, and vestments are found vncorrup­ted. verie willingly cōsented, & caused his sepulcher to be opened on the verie day of his deposition, where to the great admiration of all they foūd his bodie whole, without the lest blemish of corruptiō, his ioynts pliant, & flexible, as yf he had bin aliue, & in a word more like vnto a man asleepe, then to one that were dead. Likewise all the vestments about him were not only entier, and sound, but shining as fresh, and new, as when they were made. Wherevppon all the liuing that beheld this vnusuall miracle, through feare, & amazemēt, became for a while more like dead mē, then the dead bodie they lookt on, not daring scarse to speake, or behould the miracle, which appeared soe manifest. At length coming a litle to thē selues, by the councell of the Bishop S. EADBERT, they wrapped that sacred treasure in new garmēts (for the old they had taken off) & putting it into a light shrine, they placed it ouer the pauement where he had been buried.

XVI. THE cloathes which had been worne about that Sacred bodie ether aliue or dead, were not voyd from working manie miraculous cures. And among others, a monke of a monasterie not farre from Lindisfarne, soe grieuously tormented with a cruell palsey, that he had lost the vse of all his limnes, and on whom the phisitians had prooued all their skill to be vaine, had recourse to [Page 316] the diuine phisitian, who cureth all diseases. For he desired his ser­uant to bring him some particle of the garments, which had been about the holy bodie of S. CVTHBERT in the graue, for therby he ho­ped, by the power of allmightie God, and the merits of that Sainct, to haue helpe. The holy mans Shoes, which he had worne eleuen A parali­ti [...]que cu­red with the shoes of S Cu­thbert. yeares in the earth, without consuming, were brought; which the diseased person had noe sooner putt on, but recommending him self vnto the prayers of the holy man, he fell into a sweet slumber; and at midnight, when it rung the first pulse to mattins, he arose whole, and sound, and went ioyfully into the Church with the rest, yeelding infinite thanks to allmightie God, and S. CVTHBERT. And yf such wonders are wrought by his shooes, which were but as a defence to the lowest part of his bodie, what cannot his glorious, and thrice happie soule that is in heauen obtaine before the face of her all­mightie Creatour? This is an abridgement of what Venerable BEDE hath written, of the life, death, and miracles of the moct glorious Sainct, thrice wor­thie Prelat, moct religious obseruer of monasticall discipline, and bright orna­nament of the BENEDICTIN familie S. CVTHBERT. That which followes we haue carefully gathered out of IOHN CAPGRAVE, SIMEON of DVRRHAM de Episc. Dunel. NICHOLAS Harpsfield saec. 7. cap. 34. and others. A historie o [...] the in­corruption of S. Cu­thber [...]s Lo­die.

XVII. WONDERFVLL surely are the miracles, wrought by the all­mightie power of God, at the tombes, and reliques of his Seruants, which by the relatiō of the most approoued histories of the Church, doe demonstrate, and prooue vnto vs, with how great meritt, and fauour their blessed soules are adorned in the sight of God. But of all other, none, is more wonderfull, or of more efficacie to confirme our Christian beleef of the resurrection of the dead, then that manie bodies of the Saincts haue remayned, and doe yet remayne whole, and vncorrupted, of which strange kind of spectacle, I know not whether there haue appeared in anie other Prouince of the Christian world, more worthie, and notable experiments, then in this our Island of Great Britaine. Our English Histories relate manie wonders of this kind, of the bodies of S. EDWARD king, and Confessor, and S. EDMOND king, and martir: and S. ETHELDRED, S. WERBVRG, and S. ELPHEGVS Archbishop of Canturbury all three glorious branches of the Benedictine order; But whether these haue remayned in that in­tegritie [Page 317] to this our age, it is not certaine: But of S. CVTHBERT, it is a thing most knowne, and certaine. And first, we haue shewed befo­re, how after eleauen yeares he was found entier, at the first opening of his Sepulcher, as Venerable BEDE, a witnes without all exceptiō, doeth affirme. But afterwards, when the Danes furie cruelly wasted and spoyled all monasteries, and Churches in England, Eadulph Bi­shop of Lindisfarne, hardly escaping their bloudie hands, transported that vntainted bodie with him self to an other place. When, through the imminent slaughter, which those Barbarians outragiously com­mitted in the contrey, he could not find a secure abode to rest in; he wandred secretly vpp and downe, allwaies carrying with him that Sacred bodie, for the space of seauen yeares, hauing Edred the Abbott, and some others of the Clergie compartners of his flight, and pilgrimage. At last hauing lost all hope of conseruing them selues, and that Sacred monument in England, after a mature con­sultation, they resolued to sayle ouer with it into Ireland. But fin­ding the rage of the seas, through the horrible tempests that arose, to be as much against their desires by water, as the sword of the Barbarians by land, they were compelled suddenly to returne from their aduenture that way. But in this their entreprise at sea, Two ad­mirable accidents. there happened two things verie wonderous: for the waues of the sea, which in a storme furiously flowed ouer the decks readie to ouer whelme the ship, were suddenly chainged into gore bloud, and a goodly booke of the holy ghospels, couered with gould, and rich gemmes, by the inclining of the ship on the one side, fell acci­dentally into the water: and afterwards the sea retiring it felf for the space of three miles, was againe found in the bottom, without anie domage by lying in the waters, which was preserued with great care in the Abbey of Durrham, vnto the Authours time that writeth this historie.

XVIII. BVT peace and tranquillitie succeeding the turmoiles of warre, and slaughter, in the raigne of Cuthred; and the Bishoprick of Lindissarne being trāslated to Cunicacestre, there Eadulphe setled him self with his cōpanie, & holy reliques of S. CVTHBERT. Till after one hundred, & thirteene yeares, the Danes making a new inuasion into the coūtrey putting all to fier & sword; Bishop Alwin togeather with his Clergie, & the same sacred bodie, wēt to Rippon. And after three or [Page 318] fower turbulent moneths were past, he resolued to transport that treasure to its auncient seate of Lindisfarne; but being in the way His Sacred relique [...]re­may [...] [...] ­moueable at Durrhā. neere Durrham togeather with a great multitude of poeple, the chest wherein the Sacred bodie was carried, could by noe meanes nor for­ces nether of men nor beasts be moued anie further, noe more then a mountaine. All much astonished, and grieued at this strange specta­cle, the Bishop perswaded the poeple to giue them selues to watching and prayer to allmightie God, to make knowne his will and plea­sure in this. In the meane time, it was reuealed to one Eadmer a holy monk, that they should transport the neuer enough named bodie, to Durrham: and thither it was carried without anie difficultie or re­sistance. At that time Durrham was a desert, and horrid place, filled and incompassed round about with vast woods, and groues, all­though by nature fortifieable enough. The Bishop presently built a Church in great hast only of slender timber, wherein the Sacred bo­die was conserued for the space of three yeares. In the meane time, by the wonderfull great care, diligence, and labour of him, and of Vtred Earle of Northumberland, and the poeple, that vast, and thick wildernes of woods was cutt downe, the place it self made habitable, and a goodly Church all of stone erected, into which the vnstayned bodie of the Sainct was translated with great reuerence of all. And The Bis­hops sea placed at Durrham. the Episcopall sea, erected first at Lindisfarne, remayned at Durrham togeather with that Sacred monumēt euer after, which was the three hundredth, and ninth yeare after his happie deposition. Where manie famous miracles were wrought through his meritts, & intercession: of which allsoe the place whence first he came was not depriued. Among others, a woeman, whose feete, and thighs were by a contra­ction of the finews, writhen, and turned backwards, in soe much that as a miserable spectacle she crept from place to place on her hands, praying at this holy tombe, recouered the strength, and vse of all her limmes. And goeing afterwards to Rome, and into Ireland, to pray, and giue thanks for her health receaued, she diuulged all ouer the world as she wēt the great benefitt she had receaued by the meritts of S. CVTHBERT. Which the authour hereof doth affirme out of the mouth of diuers Priests that had seene, and spoken with her. The same man (Simeon of Durrham) rehearseth manie won­derfull miracles wrought by his holy meritts, after his bodie was [Page 319] brought to Durrhā. We will only make a brief rehearsall of some few.

XIX. ONE Osulphe, a man of most wicked life, was sett vppon by Miracles wrought at S Cuth­berts tom­be at Dur­rham. a snake which way soeuer he went, and albeit he reiected her very often, and sometimes burst her in peeces, notwithstanding (by what meanes it was vnknowne) she would hang about that wret­ched creatures neck, though without hurting him at all. But as often as he entred S. CVTHBERTS Church, he was free, and coming forth he was presently attached againe. Which being a cause of great astonishment to all, and of wonderfull calamitie to the poore man, he went to S. CVTHBERTS, where shrine hauing perseuered three daies, and as manie nights, earnestly imploring the helpe of God, and the Sainct, he was euer after released from that fearfull a­noyance. Which storie this authour asseuereth from their words that had seene the man. About the same time, one that had stol­len some peeces of money from S. CVTHBERTS shrine, and to conceale his theft putt them into his mouth, on a suddaine his chops were miserably tortured with such an sufferable paine, as yf they had bin seared with hott irons. And endeauouring to spitt the money out of his mouth, he was not able, no nor, to speake a word. He ranne vpp and downe the Church nodding, staring, and shewing all other strange motions of countenance, and bodie, see­king to make knowne his torment, which he could not vtter. At length, hoping to gaine a remedie where he had found his ill, he ranne to the Sacred shrine, and falling prostrate on his face, humbly craued the pardon, and assistance of S. CVTHBERT, offring interest of his owne, to expiate the offence committed: where as he embraced, and kissed that Sacred treasurie, with the ve­rie kisse, the money fell out of his mouth, and he was re­leased Manie pu­nished for iniuries done to his tombe. from his paine. But as men afflicted with diseases, and miseries, who humbly implored his ayde, receaued oftentimes present and wonderfull remedies; soe those that were iniurious to this B. Sainct, and his Church, were payd home for their temeritie with present, and grieuous punishments. And among others, Osbert, and Ella, both kings slaine by the Danes, may witnes; and Duke Haden a Dane, whom besides madnes a most cruell sicknes attached, which infected his whole bodie with such an horrid stench, that the armie not able to endure his presence thrust him out of the camp, & [Page 320] flying from Tinemouth with three ships, he, and all his companie were swallowed in the reuengfull billowes of the sea.

XX. AN other wicked Dane Oulasbald by name, when he en­deauoured Others, for iniuries done to his Church. to spoile the Church of S. CVTHBERT, and to wast her lands, and possessions, being admonished by the Bi­shop to abstaine from his temerarious attempt, lest he should in­curre the heauie reuenge of the Sainct: What (sayd he) dost thou think to terrifie me with the vanie buggs of thy speeches, and with a death to be feared from a dead man? I vow and protest by all my Gods (he was a Heathen) that hereafter I will be a cau­se of greater mischief to thee, and all thine, when this CVTH­BERT of thine in whom thou hast soe great confidence, shall auayle the nothing. He had scarse sayd thus much, when goeing ouer the threshold, suddenly he became immoueable, and falling downe to the ground, vomitted forth his wretched soule. William Conquerour sent one called Ranulphus to Durrham, to exact tri­bute out of that countrey (which hitherto had bin allwaies free.) To whom S. CVTHBERT appearing in a dreame, with cruell threatnings and a disease which grieuously tormented him, terri­fied him from the execution of his exigent. In whom one thing was wonderfull, that as long as he remayned within the Bishoprick of Durrham, soe long he felt the torments of his sicknes; but he was no sooner out of those bounds, thē he was freed. By these, & manie other such like wonders, wrought by the meritts of this B. Sainct, manie kings, Princes, & Peeres of the land, were mooued out of an immen­sitie of loue towards him, to adorne his Church with riches, and to enlarge it with manie great possessiōs, for the greater honour of him, & comfort of the Benedictin mōks, that sung the prayses of allmightie The kings that enri­ched Dur­rham. God therein. And amongst other kings, his and the Benedictins grea­test benefactours, were Egfrid, Alured, Ethelstane, Guthred, Cannt; and William Conquerour, mooued chiefly out of that which we haue re­lated to haue happened to Ranulphus his officer. One thing more, much to be admired we cannot omitt, of the hayre of his head which no fier could consume, but like soe manie threds of gould, they shi­ued in the burnīg flames, & being takē out, returned to their former shape. Soe that by experience we way applie to him the truth of our Sauiours promise in the Ghospell: Not a hayre of your head shall perish. Luc. 21.

[Page 321] XXI. BVT let vs proceed to the last proofes which witnes the inte­gritie of his vnstained bodie. In the raigne of Henrie the first Ra­nulphus then gouerning the helme in the sea of Durrham, this sacred bodie was publickly exposed to the common view of all behol­ders. Which my authour saw him self, as he witnesseth in these words: We will render thanks (sayth he) to him that by a diuine grace gaue vs power, allthough vnworthie, to behold, and touch his vncorrupted Simeon Dunel li. 1. [...]. 11. This was anno. 1104. An. 1537. bodie, in the fower hundred, and eighteenth yeare after his sacred deposition Fower hundred and twentie three yeares after, a new proofe was giuen vs of the same vncorrupted bodie. For when by the com­maund of that vnhappie King Henrie the eight, the sacred chasses, and shrines of the Saincts were broken vp, and robbed throughout England, and their holy reliques cast by sacrilegious hands into ignoble places, the wodden chest of this sacred bodie, which was couered with white marble, was likewise burst open with the rest. And when the bloudie executioner, to whom this work of mischiefe was committed, with a mightie blow brake vp the chest, he pearced to the holy bodie of the Blessed Sainct, and cutt a gash in his legg, where presently there appeared a manifest signe of a wound in the raw flesh. Which being seene, and all the rest of his bodie found entier (excepting that the extremitie of his nose, I know not by what chance, was wanting) the matter was brought to Cuthbert Tunstall then bishop of Durrham, whom they con­sulted what was best to be done with that bodie: Who commaun­ded it should be buried vnder ground, in the self same place where his sacred shrine stood before. And not only his bodie, but the vestiments he had on, were found to be whole, and entier, and free from anie the left spott or signe of corruption. But on his finger was found a gould ring sett with a saphir stone, which I (sayth Nicholas Harpsfield my authour) sometimes saw, and handled, embracing, and kissing it with great affe­ction as a sacred monument, more pretious then the greatest treasure. At this last eleuation of his sacred bodie, were pre­sent among others, Doctour Whitehead, president of the mona­sterie, with Doctour Spark, and Doctour Tod, and Wil­liam Witham Keeper of the sacred shrine. And by this, it is manifest, that the sacred bodie of this glorious Sainct had [Page 322] endured inuiolate, and vncorrupted for the space of eight hundred and fortie yeares. A thing, which we haue not read of anie other Sainct in the Church of God who only knowes, whether at this hower it remaine in the same integritie or not. And here now perchaunce the vertuous reader may wonder, how it comes to passe that the allmightie iustice who is euer wonderfull in his Saincts, and who heretofore, as this historie doth witnes, was soe iealous of this his glorious Sainct in particular, that not a man could offer anie iniurie ether to his bodie, his Church, or anie thing thereunto be­longing, but straight he incurred the reuenge of verie sharp punish­ment, and yet now at the last, he permitted his sacred reliques to be mangled and abused, his Church to be spoiled, the lands to be alie­nated, and all other violence and crueltie, which the wicked hearts of men could allmost inuent, to be exercised against all his Eccle­siasticall persons & dignities without shewing anie outward signes of reuenge for his defence! But all these things are scourges for the sin­nes of our wretched Countrey; and our Lord it seemes hateth sinne in soe high a degree, that he will rather take away the honour due to his Saincts in this world, then let sinne passe vnpunished. O that S. Paule sayd truly? his iudgements are incomprehensible, and his waies, vn­searcheable? Let vs make our dayly prayers vnto his diuine maiestie, that through the merits of this B. Sainct, he would be pleased at length, to sheath the sword of his reuenge, and shine vppon our mi­serable Countrey with the pleasing lookes of his mercie, that the Ec­choes of our English quires may againe resound the notes of those delightfull words soe often repeated in the Psalmes. Quoniam in aetor­num misericordiaeius. Amen.

The life of Sainct HEREBERT Priest and Hermite.
MAR. 20. Out of Venerable Bede in vita Cuth & alibi.

SAINCT HEREBERT a Priest of venerable conuersation, and ver­tue leading a solitarie life in an Iland of Yorkshise within that [Page 323] great lake whence the riuer of Derwent taketh head. This holy man was in great league of friendship, and familiaritie with blessed S. CVTHBERT whom he was wont euerie yeare to visitt, to receaue his His friend­sh [...]p with S. Cuth­bert. instructions in the way of eternall life. It happened that coming once to him according to custom, to be more and more kindled by his plous admonitions to the desire and loue of heauen: Sainct CVTH­BERT; after some vertuous discourses: Remember Brother HERE­BERT (sayd he) that now thou make knowne thy wants, and aske me whatsoeuer thou standest in neede of: For after this time, we shall see one and other noe more in this world; I am certaine that the time of my departure is neere at hand. At these words B. HEREBERT falling prostrat at his feet, powring out manie sighs and teares: I be­seech thee (sayd he) by the holy name of our Lord, not to forsake thy most faythfull friend and companion, but to beseech the diuine goodnes of allmightie God, that as togeather we haue serued him, soe togeather we may passe out of this world, to enioy him: For thou knowest I haue not liued, but vnder the gouernment of thy pious words & institutions, and in whatsoeuer through ignorance or hu­man frailtie I offended, I allwaies referred to thy discussion to be corrected. Sainct CVTHBERT much mooued here with, fell earnestly to his prayers, and hauing vnderstood by a diuine inspiratiō, that his prayer was heard: Rise brother (sayth he) and doe not weepe, but reioyce; for the heauenly clemencie hath graunted our request. The truth of which promise, and prophesie was brought to light by the ensueing euent: For departing at that time, they mett noe more, till in one and the same twentith day of March, their soules depar­ting out of this world, were by the hands of Angels translated to a perpetuall vnion in heauen. But Sainct HEREBERT, by a particular priuiledge, and dispensation from God, passed through the surnace of a long & teadious sicknes, that yf in meritt he were inferiour to S. CVTHBERT the punishment and paine of his disease, borne with a vertuous patience, might supplie that defect: whereby made equall in grace with his intercessour, as he deserued to depart at one and the same time with him, soe he might be worthie to be receaued into one and the like throne of happines. This holy man (as it may be throught) was a Monk of S. BENEDICTS order, aswell for that he was wholly instructed in all his spirituall life by Great S. CVTHBERT [Page 324] a Benedictin, who would not teach but as he had learnt him self; as allsoe, bicause in those daies, the true custome of proceeding to an eremiticall and solitarie conuersation, was to beginn first with noe other life then a monasticall, as saint BEDE doth witnes: Out of whom we haue taken his life, who both in his historie of England, and in the life of S. CVTHBERT relateh the foresayd storie to a word. Nicholas Jnvit. S. Cuth. cap 46. Harpsfield hath the same.

The life of Saint EDILWALD Priest and Anachoritie of the holy order of S.BENEDICT.
MAR. 23.

SAINCT EDILWALD was first a monke of S. BENEDICTS order in the monasterie of Rippon, where hauing receaued the dignitie of priesthood he adorned the same with a pious conuersation of life, well becomming his degree and calling. But afterwards beeng taken with the desire of a more solitarie and retired life, he went to the hermitage of the Iland of Farne, which saint CVTH­BERT had first built and inhabited, and there became saint CVTHBERTS immediate successour, as well in habitation, as ho­lines of life; of whose vertuous life that it may the better ap­peare to the world of how great meritt it was I will only rehearse one miracle out of Sainct BEDE. Gudfrid a venerble Priest, and afterwards Abbott of the Benedictin monasterie of Lindisfarne, desiring to haue some conuersation with saint EDILWALD went By his prayers he asswageth a tempett. ouer into the Iland; whence, much refreshed and comforted with his godly discourse he returned with his companions homewards. But being at the Sea, their fayre calme was suddenly changed into such a blustering storme, what with the force of the winds, and the rage of the waters struggling togeather, that indeed their incuitable ruine (as they thought) seemed to be the wager of the others contention. Till being come to the poynt of despay­ring to haue anie longer time of life in this world, behould [Page 325] B. EDILWALD hearing the tempestuous noyse of this storme, & solli­citous of their safetie, came running in all hast out of his Cell to see what was befallen them; and finding in what imminent danger and despaire they were, he fell presently to his prayers for their liues and safegard: which done, the swelling seas were appeased, and the crueltie of that tempest gaue way to their shipp to passe quietly till they were all safe on the drie shore. And then the winds and seas, as yf they had gathered new courage, beganne to rayse the same stormes againe, which furiously dured all that day: to the end we might more plainly vnderstand that the small intermission wherein they escaped, was graunted from heauen for their sakes by the prayers of the holie man. And this storie was related to me (sayth sainct BEDE who writes it) by one of those monks that was in the same ship and danger. Other mi­racles were wrought by the meritts of this Sainct: who when he had liued in great holines for the space of twelue yeares in this solitarie kind of life, he was called to the ioyes of heauen to receaue the desired rewards of his meritts, and labours. He was bu­ried in saint PETERS Church of Lindisfarne by saint CVTHBERT. Thus much out of saint Bede hist. A [...]. l. 5. c. 1. and Nicholas Harpsfied. hist. Eccl. saec. 7. c. 35. He florished in the raigne of Alfrid who succee­ded to Egfrid in the kingdom of Northumberland.

The life of S. ALFWOLD Bishop and Confessor of the holy order of S. BENEDICT.
MAR. 25. Out of VVilliam Malmes­bury.

SAINCT ALFWOLD from a Benedictin monk in the monasterie of winchester, was raysed to the Episcopall dignitie of Sherburne. He placed a goodly picture of the most holy bishop and monk S. SWITHIN of Winchester in the Church of Sherburne. It is certaine that he was a man of most reuerend & godly life, & one (that amongst the most prodigall shewes of exquisite banquets, which from the time of the Danes were vsed in England) followed the rules of auncient pietie, & seueritie in his dietHis spare diet., vsing only a woddē dish without anie luscious [Page 326] ordaintie meates, a little cuppe of beere, soe drowned and mortified with water, that the danitiest pallat could not find anie tast of beere. My authour in this affirmeth, that he heard a Priest of good creditt, & then loaden with grey haires, report with teares of ioie, much good of this holy man. One thing was, that noe man euer after his death presumed to sleepe in his bed vnpunished: For presently he was for­ced to leape out of it, being amazed with strange vglie visions, which not only terrified him from his rest, but allsoe sorely rebuked him for vnworthyly vsurping the holy bishops place. This was a strainge spectacle vnto manie. Earle Godwin (hauing it is vncertaine vppon Godwin punished for iniu­ring S. Alfwlod. what occasion, grieuously exasperated this holy man) fell presen­tly into such a tormenting sicknes, that he lay languishing without anie hope of life; soe that he was compelled to send a messenger in poast hast to the Bishop, humbly to desire pardon for his te­meritie; who out of his owne pious lenitie, gaue him his benedi­ction, and pardon, and there with all, he recouered perfect health.

II. THIS HOLY Bishop and monk was wonderfully much addicted in his deuotion to the excellent bishop and glorie of the Benedictin [...]r­der, S. CVTHBERT, at whose only name, he would burst into deuout teares: And allwaies he had this Antheme of him in his mouth.

The Holy Bishop Cuthbert a man perfect in all things, appea­red amongst the throngs of the world, a monke worthyly to be re­uerenced His great deuotion to S. Cuth­bert. of all men.

And as his dayly loue to this Sainct tooke deeper roote in his heart, to giue a greater demonstration thereof, he went in pil­grimage to Durcham; where in his sacred tomb, he deposed a wor­thie guift, as a holy testimonie of his deuout loue; At length; after some yeares in his bishoprick, coming to the last poynt of this mor­tall life, as long as his voyce would serue him, he sung his accusto­med Anthem of S. CVTHBERT, but his speech fayling, with his hand he made a signe to the monks to goe on: and soe he happily brea­thed forth the testimonie of his loue to that Sainct, togeather with his blessed soule, which at the same instant, tooke her flight to re­ceaue His happie departure. her prepared seate and reward, amongst the quires of Benedi­ctin Monks in heauen. Thus much out of Malmesburie depont. lib. 2. Harpsfield saec. 11. cap. 9. and others. He florished about the yeares 1050.

The life of Sainct RICHARD Bishop of Chicester, and Confessor.
APR. 3. VVritten by Radul­phus Cicestrius about the yeare 1270

SAINCT RICHARD of blessed, and neuer dying memorie, was an Englishman borne of honest parents in Worcester-shire, at a Village which from the salt-pitts thereabouts was called the Wiche; S Richards parents, &c countrey. His fa­thers name was Richard too, and his mothers Alice. It was not wi­thout some presage of his future excellencie that he was borne in a towne of salt, for indeed he seasoned the whole countrey with the salt of his wisedom, learning, and holy life. From his tendrest yeares (contrarie to the custō of that age) he so farre abandoned dan­cing, His happie witt. plaies, and other such vanities, that his other fellowes and equalls in yeares, could by noe allurements nor perswasions draw him thereunto: on the other side, within a short time, he farre ex­celled all his riualls both in learning, integritie of life, & good man­ners. His elder brother during the time of his nonage, was kept in ward, and by that meanes he came to his lands in great pouertie and want. Whose case RICHARD much pittied, and hauing not anie thing wherewith to comfort and succour him in that necessitie, he He serues his brother gaue him self wholly into his seruice, in which he spent noe small, time in great pouertie, and abiection, and with noe lesse patience, humilitie, and modestie, toyling, and sweating now at the plough, now at the cart, and other such hard imployments and labours of husbandrie. Whereby he wonne to him self soe great good will and affection from his brother, that by a sealed writing he assured all his lands vppon him. Then his friends and kinsfolks began to treate of a marriage to be solemnized between him, and a yong gen­tlewoman of that Countrey. VVhich when his brother perceaued, he beganne to repent that he had resigned ouer his meanes, because [Page 328] he knew that with that gentlewoman he should come in possession of a verie large, and ample dowry. RICHARD hauing intelligēce here­of: He forsa­keth all for loue of leaning. You haue noe reasō deare brother (sayd he) to be afflicted at this, for the same liberalitie, and curtesie which you haue shewed towards me, will I returne to you againe. Therefore behould I not only sur­render vp your writings and bonds, but allsoe all the interest I haue in this my future wife, yf soe it may stand with the good will and li­king of her frends; and for mine owne part, I neuer once kissed her lippes. Hēceforth, hauing abandoned all he had, his lands, his spouse, & his friends, he betooke him self to his studies, first at Oxford, thē at Paris in France, where he learnt his Logick. And he was soe violently carried away with ā extreme loue & desire to apparell his mind with learning, that he scarse euer thought ether offoode, or apparell for his bodie. For, as him self afterwards was wōt to say, whē he was one of the three schollers, that liued in one chamber, they had but one capp or hatt betwixt them, & each of them but one gowne. Soe that (like some of our courtiers now a dayes) whē one of them went forth to lesson with the hatt, the other two remayned barcheaded at home: And soe the same capp serued them all by turnes to goe heare their lectures. Their ordinary food was bread, and a little herbe-pot­tage, or some such poore dish. For their pouertie would not allow them to eate eyther flesh or fish, vnlesse it were vppon sundaies, and high dayes, and when their friends, and comrades did inuite them. And yet the holy man was wont to say, that in all his life times, he ne­uer enuoyed merrier, and sweeter dayes then those.

II. IN THE meane time, our hopefull yong man prositted soe excel­lently Hefs made master of art. in his studies, that by the publick, applause, and acclamations of all men, he was iudged worthie to be honoured with the title of master. But refusing to take anie degrees at Paris, he returned againe to his Countrey, and to the Vniuersitie of Oxford, where wi­thin a short time, he was promoted to be Master of the liberall arts: He studies Canon law when liberally he imparted that learning to others, which before with much labour he had purchased to him self. And goeing after­wards into Italic, for seauē years space, he gaue his mind to studie the Canon law in the vniuersitie of Bolognia, & that with soe great en­crease of learning, that his master falling sick, made choise of him amongst all his other schollers, to supplie his place and continue the [Page 329] lecture begunne. Which for more then half a yeare he performed, with soe great modestie, & readines of witt and iudgement, that he purchased to him self great affectiō & praise throughout all the vni­uersitie; & gott soe high a place of fauour and good will with his ma­ster, that he desired, and aspired to nothing more willingly then to giue him his only daughter in marriage. But RICH. (who moued by a diuine inspiration, was farre otherwise bent) gaue him verie hum­ble thanks for his noble loue, courteously pretending some reasōs for his excuse, adding withall, that for the present he had a lōg iour­ney to make; promising that at his returne (yf soe it pleased God) his dutie should be yielding to the leuell of his desires. And taking leaue of his master, & his daughter in this sort, he returned into England, to the vniuersitie of Oxford, where he led a verie rigid, & austere life, in He is made Chance­lour of ox­ford. cōtinuall labours, watching, & other bodily afflictiōs. Whē his fame, & renowne encreased to such a height in the eares of the world, that by the cōsent of all, he was made Chauncelour of the Vniuersitie.

III. ABOVT the same time, S. EDMOND sate at the helme in the gouer­nmēt of the metropolitā sea of Canturbury, who long before had had certaine intelligence of his great prudence, and integritie; and Robert surnamed grosse teste, a mā famous for holines was thē bishop of Lin­colne, who both being wholly ignorant of one & others meaning he­rein, And to the Archbis­hop of Cauturbu­ry. at one & the same time, earnestly laboured each of thē to make RICHARD his chancelour. At length, the Archbishop of Canturbury, because he had first signified his will and desire to the holy man, ob­tayned to haue him in his seruice who with great reuerēce and dutie obeyed him in all things. Then B. EDMOND deliuered vnto him the great seale of his office and committed to his chardge the managing of the grauest, and principallest affayres of his whole Diocese. There­fore RICHARD began according to his wonted diligence to clime dayly higher, and higher in the exercise of good endeauours, fayth­fully and exactly to performe his office without anie pride or state, to keepe free his hands from bribes, knowing, that according to scri­pture, guifts doe blind the eyes of wisemen, and varie the words of the iust. One might behould in him, an vnspeakable equitie, a courteous mild­nes, and modest simplicitie, all seated & grounded in an excellent Dent. 16. v. 19. prudence, and humilitie: his gesture and actions well composed and tempered. Moreouer, he stuck constant to his holy bishop in all his [Page 330] aduersities, and afflictions, as well at home as in his banishment, being not ignorant that those who haue been companions in suffrance, shall all soc be companious in time of consolations. But S. EDMOND of Cantur­bury Cor. 1. He studies diuinitie. being dead, RICHARD, freed from Court and courtly cares and affaires, went to Orleans in France, where in a religious house of Dominicans, he gaue him self to the studie of Diuinitie, not as most doe that only heare with their eares, and doe not applie their mind, to vnderstand; but bent an inward hearing to whatsoeuer he heard, to putt in practise more effectually what he heard. There he was He is made Pricst. promoted to the sacred dignitie of Priesthood, to sacrifice the be­loued sonne of God to his allmightie Father. And from that time, he began to adorne that heauenly function with a more humble plainnes, and neate humblenes in his habitt. But after he had been long conuersant in the studies of sacred scripture, he returned into England, to feed the small flock committed to his chardge; for he had but one parish wherein he would bestow his necessarie care in doeing the office of a good Pastour

IV. BONIFACE, a verie venerable man, had allreadie succeeded blessed EDMOND in the sea of Canturbury who desired allsoe to enioy the conuersation, and familiaritie of RICHARD, that was soe gra­tious in the world. Vnto whom, (making great resistance) he He is cho­sen bishop of Chice­ster. recommended his auncient office of chauncelour. In the meane time, Radulph Neuill bishop of Chicester being dead; the Canons, ha­uing first, as the custom was, obtained leaue of the King then Hen­rie the third, made choice of one Robert Passeleff (who from a mig­nion at Court was becom a Canon of that Church) to be their bishop. But that election (according to the decrees of the Canons, by the authoritie of Boniface of Canturbury, and other bishops his suffragans, among whom was Robert the venerable bishop of Lin­colne) was vtterly disanulled, and declared to be of noe force, because the person elected was in learning life, and manners iudged to be little correspondent to soe high a dignitie: and by the common con­sent and sentence of all, RICHARD was chosen in his place. Which proceedig verie much exasperated the King, to see the former electiō The King inuadeth the goods of Chice­ster. cutt off, and RICHARD substituted in the place, whom he esteemed his vtter enemie, in that he stuck soe close to S. EDMOND, in all the controuersie betweene him, and the King. Therefore in a furie [Page 331] he commaunded all the goods of Chicester Church to be confiscated. When S. RICHARD, according to the counsell of the others Bishops, gott the letters of the Archbishop of Canturbury, and went to the King, humbly entreating his Maiestie, to suffer a restitution to be made of all that belonged to the Church of Chicester. But all his hu­militie could nothing remoue the head­strong King from his stub­borne resolution: soe that, when the holy man had much tired and wearied out him self in vaine, and endured manie contumelious, and scornfull iniuries, he was constrained at length to haue recourse to Richard appealeth to Rome. the last refuge (vnder God) on earth, the Sea Apostolique. When the Kings Embassadours had preuented him with the Pope of Rome, for he found them there all readie, readie prouided against him. In­nocent the fourth, then gouerned the Roman sea, who verie curteou­sly entertayned RICHARD, and hauing heard the reasons of both par­ties, he confirmed his election by Apostolicall authoritie, and mo­reouer, by the imposition of his sacred hands, consecrated him Bishop, (with an other of that Countrey) in great solemnitie.

V. BVT a wonderfull thing happened at his consecration. For coming to giue them sacred vnction, for the first the Pope couid hardly squeeze one dropp of oile out of the box; but when RI­CHARD came to be anneild, there appeared as it were a new repre­sentation of Elias his oile and miracle, for the sacred liquour ranne in such abundance out of the viole, that the attendants had enough to doe to stopp it with linnen cloathes, from flowing ouer into his neck, and shoulders. The Pope and Cardinals and all the assistants A strange miracle. were much amazed, and not without cause: when one of the Car­dinalls sayd: Certaynly this man abounds with a fullnes of diuine grace. Then S. RICHARD returning into his Countrey with the Popes letters, by the way visited the Sepulcher of S. EDMOND, all­readie florishing with miracles, at Pontoise in France: and coming into England he found all the goods and meanes belonging to his Church of Chicester, vtterly dissipated, and spent by the Kings of­siceers. And for an increase of miserie, the King had commaunded by publick edict, that noe man should lend him a pennie, to supply His affli­ctious in the Bisho­ptick. his wants. But when he exibited the Popes letters, and commaunds before the King and his nobles, he not only fayled to gett a gracious fauour, but contrary wise, rather purchased to him self much more [Page 332] hatred, and indignation. Wherefore, departing from before that incensed Maiestie, he went in poore, and bare array, to his Diocesse, where he liued as a priuate guest at an other mans house, and table. In the meane time, he omitted not oftētimes to take a circuite about his diocesse, visitting the flock committed to his charge, and mini­string the sacraments as occasion required. And lest he should be accused as a slouthfull, and sluggish forsaker, and traitour of his owne right, sometimes he would make a iourney to the King, and humbly demaund the restitution of the goods, wrongfully taken away, allbeit he allwaies suffered a scornfull repulse, and returned loden with iniuries, and reproches. It happened once that the Deane and Canons of Chicester, were much trobled and afflicted in mind, with the kings sharp and biting answers but the holy man, putting on a cheerfull, coūtenance, would comfort them with calling that saying of the scripture to their remembrance. The Apostles went reioycing from the face of the Councell, because they were esteemed wor­thie Act. 5. to suffer contumelic for the name of CHRIST-IESVS. And I confirme you in the same, that these crosses, and afflictions will one day The Church of Chicestet restored. be changed into mirth, and ioy. But within a while he made the Pope acquainted with the kings stubborne answer and procee­ding: who wonderfully much pittying the holie mans case, sent a thundring commaund vnto two bishops of England, to admonish the King to make restitution to the Church of Chicester within such a time, or that they should publish and denounce the heauie sen­tences contayned in his letters, ouer the whole Kingdom. By which meanes, after two yeares affliction patiently endured, the Church with her demaines, and torne buildings, readie to tum­ble into ruine, were with difficultie restored againe to their true owner.

VI. AND the holy man being now seated in his Episcopall chayre A summa­rie of his vertues. became in prayer more feruent then euer, more bountifull, and liberall in giuing of almes, and more seuere in chastising his owne bodie. Hence forth, he was more attentiue and carefull towards the poore, more negligent in decking, and trimming his owne bodie, and more modest in his speech and behauiour. At his table, he all waies vsed a spirituall lecture, wherewith he fed his soule, as well as his bodie with foode; and sometimes, the reader intermitting [Page 333] a while from his lesson, they discoursed ether of those things that were read, or some other pious and wholsom matter. His custome was as he trauelled ouer his diocesse, to make diligent inquirie after all poore and sick persons, to whom he did not only giue large almes, but allsoe out a of gratious and innate curtesie he would vi­sitt them him self in person, and verie carefully comfort, and encou­rage them, with the heauenly food of his pious admonitions. And when his owne brother, vnto whom he had cōmitted the managing of his temporall affaires, complained that all his yearly rents, and reuenewes were not sufficient to giue almes soe largely, and to such a multitude of poore; Deare brother (replied the holy Bishop) doest thou think it fitt and reasonable that we eate and drink out of goulden and filuer vessels, and that CHRIST be tormented with hū ­ger, in his poore? As my father did before me, soe can I eate out of an ordinarie platter, and drinke in a plaine goddart. Therefore, let the gould and siluar plate be sould; yea, and the horse I ride one of soe great value let him goe too, and let CHRISTS poore be suc­coured with the money. Nether was he wont to maintaine the poore His won­derfull li­beralitie to the poore. only with meate and drinke, but alsoe to giue cloathing to the na­ked, and burie the deade with his owne hands. Sometimes he would giue an almes before it was asked: and being demaunded why he did soe: It is written, (answeared he) O Lord thou hast preuented him in the blessings of this sweetnes: and indeed, that which is obtayned by asking Psal 20. is bought but at a deare rate. He appointed an hospitall for poore aged priests that were blind, or otherwise impotent, and feeble of bodie: and that they should not purchase infamy to their holy fun­ction, by publick begging abroad, he prouided them with sufficient victuals and cloathing, within the same house.

VII. THIS his sainctitie, did not want the testimonie of manie wor­thie The won­derfull mul tiplication of aloafe. miracles, among which one and not the lest was, that one loafe was soe increased by his benediction, that beyond the hope and ex­pectation of those that were present, three thousand poore people receaued their accustomed quantitie and portions, and soe manie peeces remayned, as according to the proportion of that distribu­tion, were sufficient to satisfie one hundred more. Nether was it once or twise only, that by vertue of his holie benediction, such an abundant and miraculous encrease of things was caused, but manie [Page 334] and sundrie times, the like happened through his diuine power and bountie, that openeth his hands, and filleth euerie creature with his blessing. Next to his skinne, for the greater chastising of his Psal. 144. bodie he vsed sometimes a hayre shirt, sometimes a coate of maile. His apparel and shoes, not soe neate that they inferred an affectation, nor yet more abiect then was fitting, but in a meane, well becomming his degree, wherein he auoyded all The m [...]ā ­nes of his appared. signes of anie curious nouelties. Nether would he endure to haue his horse trappings and furniture glittering with gould and siluer, nether would he carrie about with him a superfluous chainge of apparell, not only for the shunning of pompe, but fearing lest the poore should crie out after him with that sentence of S. BER­NARD: What doeth gould in the bishops bridle whilst we poore wretches suf­fer cold and hunger.

VIII. HAVING on a time excommunicated one Iohn Allen for an iniurie executed against the Church of Chicester, and the same man coming often times to his court, he would entertayne him very familiarly, and make him stay dinner; saying, that as His chari­tie towards his aduer­sarie. long as he was with in his hall he would not haue him tied with the censure of excommunication; but when he was gone, vn­lesse he would satifie and make amends to the Church, he ab­solutely held him for an excommunicate person. He was wont allsoe to say, that yf there were strife and contention of law betwixt parties, each one striuing to recouer and defend his owne right, the signes of charitie vsed among Christians ought not therefore to bee omitted or denied. For be it (sayd he) that I must, recouer my owne by law, I ought not therefore to with­draw from my aduersarie, that which it Gods right and my du­tie, Loue and Charitie. And after this manner indeed he car­ried him self towards the Abbott of Fecam, and Richard Earle of Cornwall, and the Countesse of Kent, with whom he had sutes and controuersies touching his Church, allwaies repaying the con­tumelies and reproches of these great persons, with honour, and their enmities, with good will. His seueri­tie against the de [...]iou­rer of a sacred Virgin.

IX. ONE of the Clergie that had enticed a Nunne out of her monasterie, and deflowred her, was by the authoritie of this holy Bishop most ignominiously depriued of his ecclesiasticall benefice, [Page 335] and dignitie which he enioyed within the Diocesse. And herein he was soe rigorous, that when the King him self, the Arch­bishop of Canturbury, and manie other Bishops, Peeres, and Nobles of the realme, made great sute and entreatie for his par­don, the man of God shewed him self wholly inexorable in the execution of diuine iustice; and striking his breast, he sayd: No no while the breath remaines in this bodie of mine, such a ribald vil­laine, that durst presume to violate a Virgin consecrated to God, retayning her with him yet as a whore, shall neuer by my consent haue the gouernment of soules, within my diocesse. And because he hath appealed to my Lord of Canturbury, for my part, let him doe according as he will answere before the most iust and dreadfull tribunall of CHRIST. This couragious constancie of the blessed man, putt them quite off, from euer more attempting to moue him in that matter. In like manner he proceeded against three Vicars who were conuicted for publick keeping of concubines. For when they refused to dismisse those lewd mates, he gaue sentence against them, whereby they were quite discarded from their benefices. He compelled others that had vio­lently drawne a theefe out of the Church to the gallowes, to digge vp his stinking dead carcas after fifteen daies lying in the ground, and carrie him on their owne shoulders into the Church, from whence they had taken him at the first.

X. NEWES being brought him of a great domage he had re­ceaued His con­tempt of wordly goods. by fier, which had consumed noe small quantitie of his buildings and houshould stuffe; when his whole familie was filled with weeping, wayling, and lamenting, he was nothing moued at all, but with a smoothe and pleasant countenance, gaue thanks to allmightie God, and bad them be of good courage saying: Doe not greeue nor afflict your selues, there is yet left sufficient & abun­dantly enough, to maintaine vs in our necessities. And truly I think this losse hath befallen vs, in that we haue not vsed such care and li­beralitie to the poore as we ought. Hence forth therefore I com­maund, that our almes be more large, and frequent. O treasure of a generous mind, Which in wanting knew not how to wante, and in loosing, was ignorant how to loose, but out of the very losse of his owne goods, knew how to heape vp a new increase of vertues vnto [Page 336] himself. He was wont seuerely to commaund all the stewards, and other officers of his diocesse, calling the diuine iudgment to witnes He forbids v [...]st exa­ctions. and on payne of the vtter ruine of their soules, that they should not exact anie thing contrarie to iustice, nor molest his Diocesans with the vttermost extremitie of anie debt or dutie. And he him self, would oftentimes, out of his mildnes and clemencie, re­mitt a debt otherwise due, to those that asked him. Furthermore, he would neuer by anie meanes admitt his kinsfolks, and allies (all­beit well deseruing) to ecclesiasticall Benefices, knowing that the Lord and Prince of Pastours, CHRIST IESVS, did not deliuer the vni­uerfall gouernment of his Church vnto his cozen by bloud S. IOHN the Euangelist, but to saint PETER, who was nothing allied vnto him at all. Matt. 16.

XI ALLSOE, he vsed soe great moderation, and curtesie towards his Clergie, that rising manie times verie earlie to performe the office of Mattins, and finding his Clergimen yet lying vnder the heauie wings of sleepe, he would in the meane time betake him self to his priuate deuotious, permitting them to take their sweet rest, and repeating with him self those words of our Lord, and sauiour; Dormite iam, & requiescite: sleepe ye now, and rest. Otherwise indeede he was wōderfully delighted to see the diuine office religiously & deuoutly performed; Math. 26. which may sufficiently be prooued, with this one example; that when he ether visited religious men, or entertayned them with a ho­ly salutation when they came to him, he was wont to say: It is good to kisse those lippes, which yeeld a sweet perfume of their holy prayers offered vnto allmightie God: which saying, as him self did often witnes, he learned of his old master sainct EDMOND, who was wont to vse the same.

XII MOREOVER, with how great care and diligence this blessed man preached the word of God in other diocesses, with what pietie and clemencie he cherished repentant soules, heard them confesse their sinnes, instructed their ignorance, absolued them, imparted his good counsell vnto them, with-held and encouraged the desperate from falling into desperation, exhorted the stronger sort to perse­uerance, strengthened the vncōstancie of weaklings, and in fine, how in all things he conformed him self to all sorts and conditions, what penne is able worthyly to expresse? For the raysing of an expedition [Page 337] of ayde and rescue for the holy land, he vndertooke the preaching of the holy crosse, recommended vnto him from the Bishop of Rome: and beginning at his owne Church of Chicester he tooke his pro­gresse along by the sea side, till he came to Canturburie. But tenne daies before he arriued at the famous hauen towne of Douer, he fell into a sicknes, which he suffered not to hinder his pious interprise, for he ceased not to labour on in the vineyard of our Lord, all waies preaching, confirming children, hearing confessions, giuing holy or­ders, till he exhausted allmost all the strength of his bodie. Coming at length to Douer, he was receaued as a guest into a certaine hospi­tall called Gods-house, and at the intreatie of the master of the same Hospitall, he consecrated a Church with a Church-yard for the bu­riall of the poore, in honour of his old lord saint EDMOND, where he declared publickly in his sermon the same day, that from the first time he was made bishop, he had allwaies a longing desire, to consecrate before he died at the lest one Church, to the honour of that holy saint his auncient Lord and master: giuing there heartie thākes to allmightie God, who had not frustrated his desire therein: Adding withall that now he knew that the time of his departure was at hand, and therefore he earnestly recommended him self to the suffrages of their good sacrifices, and prayers.

XIII. THE day following being sunday, allbeit he was allmost quite as a man spent and ouerthrowne with sicknes & labours, not­withstanding, Heapplieth him self to diui [...] e [...] ­ [...]rc [...]es bey­ond his forces. at his accustomed hower of rising, he made noe delay, but gott into Church, where with great deuotion he beganne to sing his office: And being present at the holy sacrifice of Masse, his sicknes still encreased soe strongly vppon him, that not able anie longer to beare vp his feeble limmes, he fell flat on the ground. Then he was carried back into the Hospitall, by some of his ser­uants, and layd on a bed: Where to one William his Chaplaine, with whom he was euer verie familiar, he declared that he should not escape that disease, commaunding him to prepare things necessarie for his funerall, but priuately, lest familie perceauing, might be troubled: and to Simon Terringes he foretould the day of his death. Then he desired them to bring a Crucifix: which most deuoutly he embraced, piously kissing the place of the wounds, as yf then he had beheld our Lord and Sauiour dying: and breaking forth into [Page 338] these words: I giue thee infinite thanks O my Lord IESVS CHRIST, for all thy benefitts bestowed vppon me, for the paines and reproches which for my sake thou hast suffered, which were such and soe great that thou mightest worthyly say that of thy Prophet: There is noe griefe, like my griefe. Thou knowest, O lord, that yf it be thy blessed will, I am most readie to endure all Thren. 1. reproches, and torments, and death it self for thy sake, and as thou knowest I speake the truth, soe I beseeth thee to haue mer­cie vppon me, for into thy hands I commend my soule. And he re­peated often times that of the Psalmist. Into thy hands O Lord I com­mend my spiritt. Turning him self allsoe to the B. Virgin MARIE Psal. 10, Mother of God, he sayd: Maria mater gratiae, mater misericordiae, tu nos ab hoste protegs, & hora mortis suscipe: commaunding his Cha­plains continually to sound those words in his cares. And soe bet­weene the sighs of his pious deuotion, and the words of sacred prayer, in presence of manie religious, priests, and Clergimen, and other faithfull Christians, sainct RICHARD yielded vp his His blessed death soule into the hands of his Creatour, to liue in the most happie so­cietie of the heauenly citizens for euer, about the six and fiftith yeare of his age, the 9. yeare of his bishoprick, the third day of Aprill, about midnight: At what time, the heauenly spouse is sayd to Matth. 25. come to the eternall wedding. His soule was noe sooner departed but his sacred bodie, which in his life time had been tired with The beau­tie of his dead bo­die. much watching, worne out with lying on the ground, consumed with fasting, torne, and afflicted with stripes, and other voluntarie punishments beyond humane suffrance, appeared most cleere, and beautifull, in soe much, that it seemed to beare a notable signe or token of the future resurrectior: and next his skinne was found a sharp hayre-shirt and manie other iron girdles. He was buried in the Church which he had newly consecrated, a huge concurse of people coming from all parts of England to the celebration of his venerable exequies: euerie one thinking himself happie, that could but gett to touch ether the biere he was carried on, or the lowest hemme of his sacred garments. Rings, and brace­lets, that had but touched his bodie, they held for verie holy things and kept as reliques.

XIV. AFTERWARDS, his sacred bodie was translated to Chicester [Page 339] according to his desire, and buried in a meane place before S. ED­MONDS Altar, which himself had erected in the north side of the Church; Where, as in his life time, God allwaies wonderfull in his Saincts, had wrought by him manie miracles, curing the blind, lame, Manie mi­racles. and diseased, soe after his death, he shewed by the merits of this holy man, noe lesse, but rather more wonderfull signes of ho­lines: when besides manie other benefitts, and strange cures, he restored three men from death to life: and one child borne dead, but reuiued by his meritts, was presented at the age of fower yeares, before the Inquisitours that were appoynted to take the information of saint RICHARDS life and miracles. Nay his apparell, being worne or but touched, cured manie diseases; and the sick persons that lay in his bed, presently recouered their health. All which miracles, and manie more for breuities sake here omitted, were written in those dayes, as manifest and cer­taine truths, and the booke was reserued in the Benedictin Abbey of saint Albans Which moued Pope Boniface the fourth to en­roll him into the number of canonized Saincts, about 20. yeares after his death, in the raigne of Edward the first, and his feast was celebrated in the Breuiarie of Sarum, with an office of nine lessons, this third day of Aprill. This historie of his life is gathered out of that which is written at large by Radulph Bocking his confes­sor, about the yeare 1240. Mathew Paris an. 1259. Mathew West­minister an. 1262. Nicholas Harpsfield. saec. 13. cap. 17. Camden and other graue authours make verie worthie mention of his vertues. And Baronius sayth that Vrban the fourths letters for his canonization are extant in the Vatican librarie at Rome.

The life of Sainct ELSTAN Bishop of Wilton, and Confessor of the holy order of S. BENEDICT.
APR. 6. Out of William Malmes­bury de gest. Pont. Anglo.

ELSTAN first a monk of the holy order of S. BENEDICT in the monasterie of Abington, vnder the gouernment of the famous S. ETHELWOLD afterwards bishop of Winchester, was a man of won­derfull simplicitie, and obedience. A rare proofe thereof, is seene in this accident. For being commaunded by his foresayd Abbot to see that the workemen, and artificers of the monasterie, were dayly, and duely prouided with necessary victualls, he vndertooke that labour with great deuotion, and playd the cooke himself, in the preparing of their accustomed diet; and serued them verie diligently, and af­terwards washed the dishes, and other vessels with his owne hands, whilst the Abbot all waies thought he had performed this dutie of obedience, by the helpe of a seruant. Till one day, goeing about the offices of the monasterie, (as his custom was) he chāced vnawares to to find ELSTAN standing by the cauldron that boyled on the fier, and all the vessels verie neate and cleane, and the roome newly swept. The Abbot much delighted hereat; Brother ELSTAN (said he) this Not the vertue of Prompt o­bedience. obedience thou hast stolne from me. But if thou art such a champiō, as thou seemest to be, putt thy bare hand presently into the boyling cauldron, and fetch me a peece of meate out of the bottom. The commaund was noe sooner out of his mouth, but FLSTANS hand was in the boyling water, whose vnresistable heate, yeelded to the coura­ge of his true fayth, and obedience, and did him noe hurt at all; to the great admiration, and comfort of the holy Abbot. ELSTAN after­wards was made Abbot of Abington, and lastly Bishop of Wilton, in [Page 341] both which charges, he discharged the part of a holy Prelate, and ended his dayes verie happyly, to receaue the reward of his obedien­ce in heauen. He florished about the yeare of our Lord 980. Thus much of him we haue gathered out of William Malmesbury de Pont. l. 3. Nicholas Harpsfield saec. 10 cap. 9, and Wolstan in the life of S. Ethelwold the first day of August.

The life of Sainct GISLA, and Sainct RI­CTRVDE, Virgins of the sacred order of Sainct BENEDICT.
APR. 9. Out of diuers Au­thours.

GISLA and RICTRVDE borne in Kent of noble parents, but much more ennobled with vertue, and good learning, from their verie youth gaue them selues to the studie of the elegancie of the la­tin tongue, and other sciences, vnder that excellent master S. AL­CVINE a Benedictin Monk. After whose departure out of England, they liued in a monasterie at Canturbury vnder the holy rule of S. BE­NEDICT, labouring, and profitting dayly in the continuall exercises of vertue and learning, diligently imitating S. MARIE Magdalen [...] in the sweetnes of a contemplatiue, and MARTHA in the labours of Their skill in lear­ning an actiue life. Being carefull first to profitt them selues in morti­fications, and meditations, and then to shew external workes of charitie to their neighbours, and peculiarly to comfort the afflicted. Whence it was, that hauing attayned to a sufficiencie of learning (a rare thing in their sex) they writt manie spirituall and consolatorie workes, which enuious time hath suffered to perish; but some epi­stles of theirs, and specially one to S. ALCVINE, and his answer the­revnto, are extant amongst his workes. The inscription of his to them is thus: To the most noble in holines of Christian religion, the most de­uoted to the studie of wisedome, the two Virgins consecrated to God, Gisla his sister, and RICTRVDE his daughter, the humble Brother, and Father, [Page 342] ALCVINE wisheth the health of perpetuall Blessednes. At length, these holy Virgins, after the long exercise of vertue, and good workes, est this world toreceiue the crowne of their virgini­tie in heauen, amongst that glorious quire of other holy Bene­dictine Nunnes. They florished about the yeare 770. in the raigne of Alrick King of Kent. Thus much we haue taken out of Nicholas Harpsfield soec. 8. c. 6. Arnould Wion, Iohn Pitts de scrip. Aug. an. 770. and others.

The life of S. GVTHLAKE Priest, and Anacherite of the holy order of S. Benedict.
APR. 11. Written by Felix a Benedictin monk of Croyland.

THE WORTHIE seruant of IESVS-CHRIST Saint GVTHLAKE borne of noble parentsGuthlakes Parents. P [...]nwald and Tecta descended lineally from the royall stemme of the Mercian Kings: but he ennobled his princely progeniture with the nobilitie and spendour of religion, [Page 344] and vertues. Which his future excellencie, and incomparable vertue a strainge and admirable presage seemed to make knowne, and A strange apparition at his abyrth. manifest at his verie byrth. For the same hower that his mother lay in child-bed of this holy offspring a fayre yellow hand, as it were of a man, appeared by the crosse which stood [...] opposite to her house, casting forth wonderfull beames of brightnes. And when the poeple of the countrey flocked togeather in great troupes to behould that miraculous apparition, the same hand made the signe of the Crosse on the house doore of the labouring woeman, & presently vanished. A happy signe, & precursour of his birth, foreshewing that in his life time he should allwaies carrie in his bodie the peanance of Christs holy crosse. But the multitude of poeple much astonished, & amazed at this vnacustomed spectacle, began (as the manner is) with diuers, and doubtfull opinios to wauer in their sundrie expositions of that diuine miracle, the greatest part affirming that surely it betokened some great & heauenly misterie: when the mid wiue came forth with newes that the child, for whose sake that wonder appeared, was borne. In baptisme he was named GVTHLAKE, and during the time of his childhood, he appeared to beare in a cleere & louing counte­nance soe gratefull and acceptable a grace, that his sole looks were of force sufficient to purchase loue in the minds & hearts of all men.

II. AT THE age of twentie fower yeares, he began verie hotly to fol­low, and practise the noble acts of militarie discipline, to defend him self and his whole race against the aduersaries, which tooke head against them: and being sett forth in warlick ornaments and hauing mustered togeather some troupes of souldiers, he began cruelly to He giueth him self to the war­res in his youth. inuade his enemies, to besiege to w [...]es, to ouerthrow castles, in soe­much that out of his worthie deeds of armes, he purchased to him self manie titles, trophies, and monuments of fame throughout the coun­trey. But in the midest and heate of all this crueltie, he was not soe farre corrupted with a desire of militarie glorie, but euen in that blouddie kind of life, he gaue some fignes of true pietie; for often­times he would restore back the third part of his spoiles to those he had vanquished, thereby ouercoming his enemies the second time with curtesie, as before he had done with the sword. At lēgth calling to mind (by a diuine inspiration) the lamentable ends of manie great kings and princes of his ancestors, and considering that the secular [Page 345] pompe of the world is but as a puffe of smoake, and a vapour quick­ly vanishing: and remembring the shortnes of mans daies, the vneer­taintie of his death, the terrour of his departure out of this life, the seueritie of Gods tribunall, and the eternitie of the paines in the life to come, he resolued to giue ouer that course of life: and calling his fellow souldiers togeather he bad them adiew in these words: Hi­therunto (my deare friends,) I haue waged warre in the regiment of the worlds vanities, frō hence forth I am determined to beare armes only vnder the ensignes of IESVS-CHRIST, our true and dearest cap­taine. Choose your selues an other leader, whose colours ye may follow, for I will follow the banner of our Lords holy Crosse, sain­ctified in his pretions bloud. And noe reasons nor prayers being able to turne him from this pious resolution, he cast of his martiall armes, and went to the famous monasterie of Benedictin monkes at Ripendown, in the Kingdom of Mercia, where hauing taken the habitt He beco­meth a Be­nedictine monk. of a monk vnder the holy rule of S. BENEDICT, he entred into a verie strict and seuere manner of life, depriuing him self not only of the superfluous but allmost of the necessarie vse of meate, drinke, and sleepe. The Psalmes, himnes, and other knowledge of holy scripture he learned with a wonderfull facilitie within the space of two yeares. He was of a pleasant coūtenance, humble in his behauiour, and gate, religious and full of the feare of God in his workes, cōstant in fayth, His man­ner of life in the mo­nasterie. perseuerant in hope, abounding in charitie, prouidet in his counsell, and verie circomspect, & mild in his words. And liuing amongst his brethren, he imitated the diligent & laborious bee, which auoyding all infectious weeds, sucks whatsoeuer is good and profitable out of all the sweet flowers round about and brings it to her hiue. For as he highly detested all manner of vice, soe he striued and endeuou­red with a great contention of mind, to expresse in him self, not only one, but all the good manners and vertues of those with whom he liued. Therefore, whatsoeuer was excellent, or notable in each of thē, he heaped it all to him self; the learning of one, the continencie of an other, this mans pacience, the others submission, & humilitie, the si­lence of some, the strict diet of others, and their night and day watchings; and in a word, he ranked into him self alone a goodly traine or lift of all others vertues, and pious actions.

III. Now when he had made good triall of, him self for [Page 346] the space of two yeares, and shewed a worthie example of vertue and holines in that excellent schoole of religion, he beganne to aspire His desire of a solita­rie life, to a higher manner of perfection, being taken with a wonderfull desire of an eremiticall and solitarie life. Therefore, hauing com­municated his purpose with his Abbott and brethren, with their good leaue, and well-wishes, he was dismissed to his owne choise; and he chose him self an habitation in the Iland of Crowland in Lin­coluethire, a place at that time most remote from all humane com­panie, and which (as well for manie fennes, marshes and rude groues thereof, as allsoe through feare and horrour of deuils, and gob­lins that molested it) was neuer before inhabited by anie. Into this desert, our famous champion being wafted ouer in a little boate with two other youthes in his companie on the verie feast of saint BARTHOLOMEW the Apostle (in whose meritts he had a He entreth the horrid [...] of Crowland particular confidence) began, to leade a solitarie and strict life. Hauing built a little cottage, he vsed for his cloathing the raw, and rude skinnes of beasts: his diet was a small quantitie of barley bread, and water, which he did not tast till after sunn­sett. But the common enemie of mankind, enuying soe great vertue, and goodnes, assaulted him with such a vehement spi­ritt of temptation, that he brought him euen to the verie brink of falling into the bottomlesse gulfe of despaire, for being much ouerthrowne in mind, and troubled more then can be expres­sed, he begann to think of flying away and forsaking the de­sert: when the almightie helper, and comforter of his ser­uants in affliction, sent him his diuine assistance, by the meanes of the holy Apostle saint BARTHOLOMEW, who appearing In tempta­tion [...]. conforted by S. Bar­tholomew. visibly vnto him, reuiued his weake spiritts with such like words: Be of good comfort, my sonne, and resume thy strength and courage: thou hast entred a mightie battaile; it doth not be­come a professour of soe great and worthie a purpose, to be ouerthrowne with a little blast of tentation. Therefore goe on couragiously, for allbeit our Lord permitt the to be tempted, not­withstanding he will make thy temptations redound to thy greater good. Thou art cruelly sett vpō to be ouerthrowne, but I haue made intercession for thee, that they fayth doe noe fayle; thou art assisted from aboue, our Lord hath putt to his helping hand. It is his will and [Page 347] pleasure that those whom he loueth be tempted & tried; in all which thou must behaue thy self as his seruant with patience: and yf thou a­bound with tribulation suffered for CHRIST, thou shalt receaue a superabundance of consolation through CHRIST. Feare not there­fore thy owne weaknes, for the spiritt of God it is that helpeth and strengtheneth thee. Putt they whole confidence then in him, for he is the only health of his seruants, he will be to thee as a tower of for­titude against they enemies. At these words the holy Apostle vani­shed out of his sight, and he remayned much comforted, and streng­thened in our Lord, and from that day he was neuer more tempted to despayre: allthough the wicked spiritts neuer ceased to molest him other waies.

IV. FOR at an other time, two infernall spirits tranformed like The de­c [...]fall counsell of the deuill. angels of light, beganne with verie earnest perswasions to counsell him to fast all the weeke long without anie food at all, promising that by that meanes, he should attaine to the height of perfection. For di­sallowing of his biduall, and triduall fasts, they proposed vnto him Th [...] e [...]ects of [...] ­derat [...] ­sting. the fast of Moyses, and Elias, and the abstinence of other auncient fa­thers, that liued in Scety, for an example. But the scope of their deue­lish pupose was this, that abstaining wholly from all meate, by the continuance of his fasting, he might be the cause of his owne ouer­throw. For fasting, when it exceeds the bounds and rules of a mo­derate discretion, causeth the bodie to languish, the spiritts to faint; the desire to deuotion waxeth dull, the effects of good works are ta­ken away, and the intellectuall eye of contēplation is dimmed. The­refore B. GVTHLAKE, perceauing the falsehood and guile of this de­uelish counsell, calling vpon the name of CHRIST, cried out with the royall psalmist. Let God arise, and his enemies be dissipated, and let [...] Psalm [...] that hate him, flie from before his face; At which words those hellish monsters filling the ayre with mournfull houlings, and lamen­tations, departed to their house of darknes: And GVTHLAKE euer after despised all the assaults of the deuill, and easily suppressed all his wicked suggestions.

V. BVT by how much the more inuincible his holy purpose grew He is cruel­ly [...]e­sted by the deuils. daylie in strength & constancie, by soe much those enuiers of all ver­tue and goodnes incessantlie laboured to ruine his godly intentions; sometimes terrifying him with vglie sights, lashing his naked bodie [Page 348] with most cruell stripes, violently carrying him out of his cell into the ayre among the horrid shapes of hellish monsters, casting He seeth the paine [...] of the da­ [...]ed. him into the bogges, and puddles of the fennes, dragging him and tearing him through the briers and brambles, and lastly lug­ging him euen to the mouth of hell it self, where not without grief and sorrow he beheld the soules of the damned tumbling among those sulphurous flames in the fuffrance of vnspeakable torments, into which they insultingly threatned to cast him all­soe, vnlesse he would forsake his habitation in that Iland, which they termed theirs. All which iniuries and cruell practises, he bore off with the shield of patience; vsing that of the Psalmist: O Lord God in thee I haue hoped, saue and deliuer me from all that persecute mee; And as they thought to haue gott the victorie, the ho­ly Psal. 7. Apostle S. BARTHOLOMEW his peculiar patron appeared in great light and splendour, and commaunded those damned furies to restore him againe to his cell, without doing him anie further iniu­rie: Which as they gently and quietly performed, a quire of an­gels from aboue was heard singing that versicle of the Psalme. I­bunt Sancti de virtute in virtutem videbitur Deus Deorum in Sio [...] Psal. 83. Thus triumphing ouer his infernall enemies, out of their vexa­tions he learned to be more humble, feruent, carefull, powerfull, and warie in all his actions. He driues away the [...] with the signe of the Crosse.

VI. AGAINE, as once he was saying his mattins, he saw two vglie deuils miserably weeping, and lamenting, of whom asking the cause, Because thou (answeared they) preuaylest against vs in all things, insoe much that we dare not presume to touch or come neere thee. But the blessed man, making the signe of the Crosse, they vanished out of his sight. Yet ceased not therefore to trouble and molest him, by allmost all the meanes their deuilish enuie could inuent. Sometimes making a sallie into the Iland in great troupes as yf whole armies of the Brittās (who at that time cruelly de­stroyed the English-men and among whom heretosore he liued in ba­nishment) The subtle deceip [...] o [...] the deuill. had inuaded him: other whiles making the whole Ilad trē ­ble with their hellish noise by coming in great multitudes to his cell, in the formes of brute beastes, when he should heare the bleating of sheepe, the bellowing of oxen, the hissing of serpents, the neighing of horses, the howling of wolues, the roaring of lions, the braying of [Page 349] asses, the groning of beares, the grunting of swine, and diuers other most horrid noises, which furiously encompasled him. Against all which he vsed as braue patience, and vertue, as in times past those He con­foundeth the deuils that assault him. famous Ermites of Egipt so much praysed by S. HIEROM, S. ATHONIE, S. HILLARION and others, and not long since our most worthie and memorable S. CVTHBERT, in the Iland of Farne. For being besieged, as is aforesayd, he armed him self with the signe of the holy Crosse, saying: It is in vaine, Satan, for thee to tempt me: our Lord is my assi­stance, and I will despise mine enemies. It this the similitude of the Most-High, which in times past thou wouldest assume to thy self in heauen? art thou he who thē through pride didst aspire to the forme and liknes of God him self and now dost vilely and filthyly trans­forme thy self into the vglie shapes of brute, and vncleane beasts? Verely thou dost persecute CHRISTS poore seruants to thy owne great domage: for by how much the more thou endeauourest to build vpon their backs, by soe much the more resplendent crownes of glorie thou heapest on their heads, to thyne owne confusion. But turne into what shape thou wilt, I am certaine, that nether death, nor Rom. 3. life, nor angels, nor powers, nor principalities, nor anie other creature shall be able to seperate me from the charitie and [...]oue of God. With these and such like words he putt to flight all those troupes of infernall mon­sters, and euer after he not only ouercame all their hellish delu­sions, plotts, and sleights, but allsoe gott absolute power, and commaund ouer them, as his slaues.

VII. THEREFORE those wicked spiritts, seeing they could not pre­uaile against him with their owne practises of mischief, they incensed a clergiman that liued vnder his spirituall rules and gouernment, cal­led Bertheline, with a wicked cogitation and temptation, secretly to murder his holy master, thereby to enioy, as it were, by inheritance that little house, & whatsoeuer else belonged vnto him. But Bertilines He seeth the wicked practises of Berteline. impious meaning being reuealed vnto the Sainct, he sent for him, and discouered vnto him all his secret counsels & purposes, to witt, where, when, and by what meanes, he had determined, to execute that bloudie exploit. Who presently falling prostrate at the holy mans feet with repētant teares humbly craued & obtained pardon, & euer after, he was verie faythfull to S. GVTHIAKE, & remayned with him vntill death, and had the honour to lay him in his graue. Further­more [Page 350] whilst he liued in this solitude his excellent counsell was ven profitable vnto manie for the good both of soule and bodie, being famous allsoe for expelling deuils, and curing diuers corporall disea­ses. Manie things done a farre off he saw, and declared as present: and by the spirit of prophesie he foretould manie things to come, long time before they happened. He liued in this solitarines for the space of fifteen yeares, in which time, all his actions, words, and in­inwardest His ver­tues in this solitarines cogitations, breathed nothing else but sweet odours of pietie towards God, and peace and charitie towards men. Noe man euer saw him giue the lest signes of pride of mind, or make the lest shew of anger in his countenance; but in both he allwaies obserued one self-same setled, and vnremoued constancie. His aspect euer calme and quiet, curteous and affable in his speech, very prudent in giuing counsell, of a singular humilitie of mind, and a wonderfull continencie in his diett, cloathing, & all things. But allbeit the great­nes of the labours and afflictions whereunto he exposed him self in The loue of God ouerco­meth all difficulties this desert seeme after a manner to exceede all humane strength and power, yet out of his immense loue to allmightie God, and the all­most vndoubted, and tried hope of future glorie, they seemed verie light and pleasant vnto him. All which, God the only crowne of his saincts, and their labours, did wonderfully asswage, and moderate, with manie externe and interne consolations: when besides others allreadie named, the fowles of the ayre, and fishes of the waters, were seruicable and obedient to his commaunds: and twise a day, (after he had been two yeares in the Ermitage) morning and euening, he He discour seth with an Angell. deserued to intermingle most heauenly and vnexplicable discourses with an Angel: which a little before his death (being coniured the­reunto) him self confessed to Berteline, who before had often heard him discourse, but knew not with whom.

VIII IN the meane time, he was visitted in this rude place by manie He is made Priest. He cōfor­teth King Ethelbald and ore relleth the resti­tution of his king­dom. greate men, by Hedda bishop, who promoted him much against his will, to the sacred dignitie of Priesthood: by Ethelbald, thē a banished man, afterwards King of the Mercians, who coming often to re­ceaue some comfort in affliction from S. GVTHLAKE, had great con­fidence by his prayers to be deliuered from the bloud-seeking hands his enemies. Nether did his hope deceaue him, for the holy man with the efficacie of his good counsell, not only gaue new courage to his [Page 351] mind allmost quite ouerthrowne with sorrow and afflict ion; b [...] allsoe by a propheticque spiritt, foretould that through his prayers, he should obtaine his kingdom and glorie againe, and that his ene­mie had not long to line. Only (sayd he) be mindfull that when all­mightie God shall haue done well for thee, thou be not vngratefull. A certaine Abbot allsoe that came to visitt S. GVTHLAKE, had gi­uen leaue to two of his clearks, fayning some necessarie busines, to goe to a village hard by, where in a widdowes house, they most wickedly gaue themselues to the works of gluttonie, dronkennes, and dishonestie. In the meane time all their actions were reuealed to the holy man, who tould the Abbot where they were, what they sayd and did, as distinctly, as yf he had feene them. The Abbot returning to his monasterie, tould his clerkes where they had been, with all other circumstances of words and works that had past, whereby being much ashamed, they humbly craued pardon for their fault.

IX A noble man belonging to the foresayd King Ethelbald, and a yong man of Eastanglia, both violently vexed, and possessed by the He freeth two pos­sessed per­sons. deuill, but the later soe extremely that he was madd allsoe, in soe much that he would sett vppon all that came neere him with stones and staues, and whatsoeuer else he could lay hould on, whereby he slew three men that sought to bind him: nether in his furie did he spare his owne bodie, for with his teeth, and nayles he would teare his flesh in peeces. At length, hauing been led by his friends to ma­nie holie places, all in vaine, he was brought to S. GVTHLAKE, who by a triduall perseuerance in fasting and prayer, springling him with ho­ly See the vertue of fasting and prayer. water, draue away all power of the deuill, and restored him safe and sound to his friends. The other was freed by gyrding him self with S. GVTHLAKES Gyrdle. About the same time, the venerable Ab­besse Eaburga sent a leaden coffin, with a fine linnen shrowd to S. GVTHLAKE, humbly and earnestly entreating him to permitt his bo­die to be buried therein after his death, desiring withall to vnder­stand, He foretel­leth his successour. who should succeed him in his hermitage. The holy man vn­willingly receauing the present, sent her word back that his succes­sour was as yet a Heathen, who shortly hauing receaued the sacramet of baptisme, should inhabite that place, as it came to passe: for one called Cissa, after his decease, receaued the fayth of CHRIST, and be­came his successour.

[Page 352] X. AT length the day of his death drawing neere he called Bertelin [...] vnto him: And now (sayd he) my deare sonne, I am goeing to re­ceaue the rewards of my labours; I desire to be dissolued to raigne He fore­seeth his owne death. with CHRIST my beloued Lord, and Sauiour. And after manie spee­ches he enioyned him to salute his sister Pega in his name, & entreate her to come to the buriall of his bodie. I haue (sayd he) auoided her sight hitherunto in this mortall life, that more securely we may enioy one and other in the immortall. And as he pronounced these and manie other words full of pietie, and consolation soe great a sweet­nes proceeded from his mouth, that Bertheline seemed to smell like flowers of roses scattered in the ayre, or the distilled liquour of baul­me. But allmightie God, as he had adorned him liuing in this world with manie worthie fauours and benefitts, as well for his owne, as for the health of others; soe at the verie hower of his death, & after his departure, he made him famous to the world with manie singu­lar graces. For falling sick, the wendsday before Easter, and depar­ting this life the seauenth day following; allbeit his forces were His deno­tion in his sicknes. weake, yet he forced him self beyond his weakenes, to celebrate the dreadfull sacrifice of our sauiours Passion at the aultar, on Easter day. And from midnight vntill the morning before he died, a bright shining light encompassed the little house where he lay. At sunrising hauing strengthened him self againe with the viaticum of our Lords sacred bodie; he spake to his faythfull disciple Berteline saying: The His death. time is come, my deare sonne, wherein I must passe to CHRIST, & li­fting vp his hands and eyes to heauen, he yeelded vp his most pure soule to receaue her reward in the heauenly paradise of all puritie; the eleauenth day of Aprill. When at the verie instant Berteline saw, as it were, a fierie tower reaching from heauen downe to the earth, the brightnes whereof was soe wonderfull that the pale sunne might enuie soe great a lustre. And the whole Iland seemed to be spread all ouer, The An­gels [...] at his bu­riall. with a most pleasant sweet smell of heauenly odours: whilst the Angels them selues were heard to sing melodious tunes of ioy, to the honour and encrease of his glorie. In the meane time, his godly sister Pega, reioycing more then can be expressed, at soe great glorie of her brother, buried his holy bodie with great reuerence in his owne oratorie: and at his buriall, a blind man washing his eyes with the water whereinto was putt some salt hallowed before by S. GV­THLAKE, [Page 353] receaued perfect sight.

XI. HE DIED at the age of fortie seauen yeares, at fower and twentie he begā to follow the warres, eight yeares he remayned in that fierce His bodie is found vncorrup­ted. life, and fifteene yeares he liued in the seruice of God in the desert. But a yeare after his death, his sister desiring togeather with manie other reuerend, and holy Priests, to translate his bodie to a more de­cent and eminent place, they found him most whole and entier, more like a man asleepe then dead. For all the ioynts of his bodie were flexible, & agile, as yf the humours had runne through the veines by force of the vitall spiritts: and all the cloathes he was wrapped in, were as fresh and fayre, as the first day they were layd in. Then the bodie was honourably placed in a tombe aboue ground with great ioy, reuerence, & deuotion of all. But the exiled King Ethelbald spo­ken off before, hauing vnderstood the death of the holy man, came in mornefull manner to the sepulcher, where powring out manie teares he complayned that now he was truely left forsaken & deso­late more thē euer, humbly desiring the Blessed Sainct by his meritts and intercession, to obtaine his deliuerance out of those miserable af­flictions. Vnto whom S. GVTHLAKE appeared one night incōpassed with resplendent bcames of glory cōmaunding him to sett aside all He appea­reth to king Ethel­bald. care, for that verie shortly all things would succeed according to his owne desire. Which prophesie was not spoken in vaine, for within a yeare his aduessarie died, and he was restored againe to the free pos­session of his kingdome.

XII. IN THE meane time, S. GVTHLAKES tomb beganne to florish with wonderfull miracles; for as manie faythfull Christians as came thither to demaund helpe in their necessities, through his meritts & intercession, were not frustrate of their desire. Nether was Ethelbald being restablished in his kingdome, vnmindfull of his beloued Pa­trone, For in the same place he built a goodly Church, and a mona­sterie for the Benedictine Monks, & enriched it with abundant rents, King [...]thelbald buil [...]a the Bene­dictin Ab­bey of Cro [...]and. and reuenewes: which was after called the Abbey of Crowland. And in the same Church he erected a verie sumptuous and rich tombe ouer his sacred bodie. Where allthough the place were full of fennes and marshes being seated betweene the riuer Nine & the Ile of Elie, that it could not be come at but by boate, yet that house was all­waies most opē to the hospitalitie of all men, in soe much that it [...]as [Page 354] honoured with the litles of bountie, ciuilitie, and curtesie euen to the leter times. Afterwards manie other kings and Princes endowed Jngul­phus Hist Croiland the same monasterie with allmost innumerable riches, and reuenews, as appeareth by the history of Jngulphus a Mōk of the same Abbey In which allsoe it is to be noted, and not without cause, that in all the variable chainge, and declining of the times, in soe long and furious an outrage of the Danes, which ruined all such other mona­steries, this remayned allwaies inhabited, allbeit the Church and other buildings were quite ruined and burnt with fier. For in that time when the barbarous Danes spoyled wasted and robbed all the Monasteries of England, the Abbot of Crowland called Theodore vnderstanding of their neere-approching ruine, and threatned de­struction, sent all the yong monkes to the number of thirtie, with the riches and reliques of S. CVTHLAKE, and others, to shift for them selues abroade, retayning only the aged men in the monasterie, and a few children, supposing belike that their weaknes would moue Crowland destroyed by the Danes. the Barbarians to compassion. But it fell out farre otherwise, for when the same venerable Abbot had solemnly sung high Masse, and made the remainder of his deuout Conuent participant of the most sacred body and bloud of our Lord, suddenly a barbarous route of the Danes broke into the Church, and hauing martired the Abbot before the high aultar, with the like crueltie they murdered all the rest of the monks, some in the refectorie, some in the Chapter, some in the Cloister, soe that noe roome of that sacred Monastery remay­ned, that was not full of bloud and horrour. Only one yong Monk called Turgar, whose beautifull forme of face and bodie (allbeit he desired earnestly to beare his seniors companie in that expedition of death) conquered the cruell mind of one of those blouddie Princes, was saued, and reserued for the companie, and sake of a yong Count of the Danes called Sidrock. Then those ministers of crueltie breaking vp the tombes of the saincts there buried, committed all their bo­dies, togeather with the Church and the whole Monasterie to the mercilesse power of the deuouring flames. But Count Sidrok pulling yong Turgars cowle ouer his head, gaue him a Danish iacket, & made him waite at his heeles wheresoeuer he went: till the holy youth fin­ding an opportunitie afterwards, fled from that Barbarous master, and returned againe to Crowland, where he found his fellow monkes [Page 355] that had returned the day before, labouring and sweating to quench the vnsatiable flames that yet raged among those dolefull ruines, where he and fower other monks, hauing according as they were able repayred a little habitation of defence only against the violēce of the weather, made choise of one Godrick for their Abbot, and liued in a religious pouertie, and a pious expectance to be resto­red to their auncient state, for the space of an hundred yeares and more. Till an aged man called Turketill, Chancelour to worthy King Edred passing by Crowland as he went on busines for the King to Yorke, was mett by those blessed old monkes, and with a pious cur­tesie compelled to lodge in their ruined Monasterie. And hearing The mona­sterie of Crowland reedisied. the woefull storie of their miserable desolation, he was soe moued to compassion, that hauing with much difficultie obtayned leaue of the King, he became a Benedictine Monke in the same place, and be­gan in his old age to beare the yoake of our Lord in the profession of a monasticall life. When by his meanes (King Edred helping therevnto) that Monasterie was gloriously reedified, and the lands, liuings, and Lorships anciently belonging vnto it; restored, and con­firmed vnto it, by the royall charters of the two Noble Kings Edred, and Edgar, to the great consolation of those good aged Monks, who now gaue thanks vnto allmightie God, that he had giuen them the grace and patience, to see the destruction, and restauration of that worthy Monasterie; whereof the venerable man Turketill was afterwards made Abbot. And herein may be seene a rare example of the wonderfull prouidence of allmightie God, who from soe small beginnings bringeth to passe workes of such greatnes and excellencie; as from the dwelling of one poore man saint GV­THLAKE, in that abiect and horrid place, first to lay the foun­dation of soe mightie an Abbey of worthie monkes as this was; and then to conserue the succession thereof soe strangely in those [...]ue [...] old men; of whom one called Clarenbald liued to see the age of an hundred threescore and eight yeares, an other named Swarling, to the age of an hundred fortie two, & the third, Turgar, to an hun­dred and fifteene, all venerable in gray hayre, and the profession of a monasticall life. The life of S. GVTHLAKE was saythfully written by one Felix a monk of the same monasterie, as he receaued it from the forenamed BERTELIN his companion, and CISSA his successour in the Ermitage; and dedicated to king Elwald of the East-Angles. Out of which we haue gathe­red [Page 356] the foresayd historie. All other English Historiographers doe worth [...]y speake his prayses. This Felix florished about the yeare of our Lord 730. and S. GVTHLAKI about 706. of whose glorious meritts God of his infinite merci [...] make vs all partakers.

Amen.

The life of S. PATERNVS Bishop and Confessor.
APR. 15. Out of Ioannes Anglicus.

PATERNVS borne in little Brittanie of noble parents, when he came to ripenes of yeares iudging all true nobilitie to be seated in the lappe of vertue, he contemned all those things which the world soe much admireth, and in the nakednes of religious pouertie followed CHRIST naked. And lest his friends and kinred should hinder his pious resolutions, he willingly banished him self from his countrey into Jreland, where he led a most holy monasticall life in watching, fasting, and prayer. Afterwards, he came into South-wales, where he built manie Churches and monasteries in the Countrey now called Cardigan-shire, and ordered them according to the mo­nasticall rules and disciplines of those times; in soe much that in that countrey, he gayned his greatest opinion of sainctitie, and authori­tie. But some iarres arising betweene the kings of Southwalles and North-wales, which were readie to be decided but by the sword, by the mediation of S. PETERNVS they were easily pacified, and the He maketh peace be­tweene. Princes. princes entred againe into a strict league of friendship. Great was the familiaritie and friendship which grew betweene these three Saincts, DAVID, TTELIAN, and PATERNVS: And they three deuided all Wales into three bishopricks, one whereof fell to the share of S. PATERNVS, in a place then called Mauritania; where as he exerci­sed the office of a good Pastour, teaching and preaching to his poe­ple, he was called back into little Britanie; and there through his strictnes of life, and doctrine, which manie would not endure, he Sampson Bishop. suffered much affliction of false brethren with patience. But Sampson Bishop, who aboue all other was magnified in that prouince for [Page 357] vertue and holines of life, vsed him with great honour, and reue­rence, as well becomed soe great a sainct. And allbeit by the instiga­tion of some of his brethren he once yeelded to make triall of S. PATERNVS his obedience, and sainctitie, (which was then testified vnto him by a wonderfull miracle) yet afterwards he humbly craued pardon, and became his verie great friend, and defender against the other bishops, that impugned him, commaunding that the Episco­pall sea of S. PATERNVS, which was in the towne called Guenet, should be free from all externe authoritie. At length, when peace was con­cluded on all sides, S. PATERNVS hauing gouerned his Church ma­nie yeares in a miraculous sainctitie of life in this world, he departed hence to receaue an immortall recompence of his labours, the fifteenth of Aprill. The Inhabitans of little Britanie obserue three fe­stiuall daies in honour of this sainct, the day of the peacemaking with the other bishops; the first of Nouember; the day he was made Bishops; and this day of his deposition; which is allsoe yearly celebrated with great honour among the Welchmen; in a Church dedicated to him called in Welch, Llanpaternan that is saint Paternus Church. Thus much of his life we haue gathered out of loannes Anglicus recited by Iohn Capgraue, and Nicholas Harps­field: that at lest the memorie of soe great a sainct vnto whom our Welchmen are highly bound, might not perish.

The life of Sainct STEPHEN Confessor and Abbot vnder the holy rule of Sainct BENEDICT.
APR. 17. Written by VVil­liam Mal mesbury. lib. 4. reg. Ang. cap 1.

STEPHEN surnamed Harding borne in England of noble parents, was brought vp frō his verie childhood in Dorset-shire in the mo­nasterie of Sherburne, vnder the holy rule of S. BENEDICT, till being now in the flower of his youth, when the nettles of the world began to sting his mind, farre otherwise inclined; he fled out of the danger into France, where carefully laying the grounds of true learning, he receiued the first efficatious motiue to ver tue, and the loue of God. For when his riper yeares had bani­shed all boyish inclinations, he tooke a iourney to Rome, with [Page 358] one other in his companie; In which (allbeit the way were long and difficult and their pouertie little able to defray that charge) both going and returning they dayly recited and sung the whole psal­ter. Hauing piously visited the sacred tombes of the Apostles they returned into Burgundie, where STEPHEN, in a new built monaste­rie of S. BENEDICTS order called Molismus, putt on the habitt and conuersation of a Benedictin Monk. And at verie first, he grew easily He taketh the habit of S Bene­dict. familiar with the precepts of S. BENEDICTS Rule, in which he had beē conuersant long before, but finding other statuts proposed which he had not read in the rule before, he began (all waies keeping re­ligious modestie) to demaund the ground, and reason of those lawes. All things (sayd he) are gouerned with reason, but because through slouth and negligence humane frailtie oftentimes falls from reason, manie lawes were made in times past, and from our holy father S. BENEDICT we receaued a Rule, to recall the scattered mutabilitie of nature to the bounds of reason. In which, allbeit manie things be for which I can giue no reason, yet the authoritie of the Author (who questionlesse receiued them from heauen) bids me yield there­unto. Therefore shew an instance out of the Rule vpheld with reason, and authoritie, and dictated by him, who was replenished with the spiritt of all iust men: this yf you cannot doe, you doe in vaine make profession of his prerogatiue, whose doctrine you refu­se to follow.

II. THIS opinion creeping from one to an other, much mooued their hearts that feared God, lest perchance hitherunto they had, or might hereafter follow a wrong course. Therefore after a fre­quent disputation thereof in Chapter, S. ROBERT, the Abbott appro­ued STEPHENS opinion, and concluded that they should surcease from following superfluous statutes, and search only into the mar­row He depar­teth to cif­terce. of S. BENEDICTS Rule. But manie, refusing to leaue their old customs, some few only embraced S. STEPHENS opinion, and depar­ted thence with him to the hermitage of Cisterce, which at that time was a desert vnhabited place, but since, through his meanes, soe flo­rishing with a worthie conuent of holy monks, that it might seeme a litle paradise on earth. Here togeather with his fellowes, he be­gan to lead a verie holie life in the strict and punctuall obseruance of saint BENEDICTS Rule, soe that ROBERT Abbott of Molismus [Page 359] hearing the same of their holy conuersation tooke with him twen­tie fower other monks, and went thither, as well to be made a partner of their holy purpose, as a promoter of their intended course. But his owne monkes caused him shortly after to be recal­led back to his monasterie, by the authoritie of the Pope. And Alberick was created abbot of Cisterce in his stead: after whose death (and he liued but eight yeares more) our STEPHEN succeeded in the gouernment of that new borne-Conuent, in whose time the holy Congregation of Cisterce began to extend it self, and flo­rish He is made Abbot of Cisterce. with a great name of religion, and all by the vertue and pru­dence of S. STEPHEN, who with the almes of deuout poeple (and happie was the man that through his hands offered his money to God) built sixteene monasteries in his life time, of all which he was Generall. Soe that indeed he may be iustly termed the chief founder of the whole Cistercian Congregation, which afterwards flo­rished all the world ouer as may be seene at this present day; for that Boore beginning, in time of his predecessor Robert, and Alberick, was soe small, and soe vnsetled, that excepting the wonderfull and pecu­lias prouidence of allmightie God, and this holy mans prudent care, and endeauours, it was likely to haue taken no [...]great hould in the Church: that as at the first he was the occasion and cause of the first planting, soe now he was the authour of the great propagation of this famous reforme of the Benedictin order. When among other titles of his prayses it is not the lest, that he gaue the Benedictin habitt He gaue the habit to S. Ber­nard. to that bright Ornament of the Order S. BERNARD, who vnder the obedience of our STEPMEN suckt the sweet milke of his mellifluous learning and deuotion. And the same S. STEPHEN composed, and left to his brethren as his last will and testament, that worthie wri­ting called CHARTA CHARITATIS (the Charter, or carde of cha­ritie) wherein is contayned an admirable manner of maintayning a connection of true peace and charitie in all the monasteries of that Congregation, throughout the whole world; that all exhibiting ho­nour to each other, their whole multitude of Abbeys, and monks should make all but one Bodie or Chapter, vnder one head, and Superior. And this was called, Charta Charitatis, because it chiefly tended to the conseruing of loue, and charitie amongst them.

III. AT LENGTH, when this blessed man had setled, established, and [Page 360] confirmed this new plantation with manie holy lawes of order and discipline, and worthyly gouerned his stock according to our Lords true example of humilitie, till old age had quite depriued him of his sight, he gaue vp his pastorall chardge, desiring wholly to betake him self to the contemplation of diuine things, according to the royall prophets counsell; tast, and see for our Lord is sweet. In this ho­lie Psal. 33. sweetnes, he spent the remaynder of his life, allwaies expecting the approach of the happie minute, wherein he should be released out of that prison, to the enioying of the eternall freedom. There­fore his time drawing neere manie of the Abbots of his new ere­cted Congregation, and a great number of the monks came to offer him the last seruice of their loue, and dutie. VVho talking amongst them selues (as the holy man say gasping for breath) that a man of His won­derfull hu­militie. soe great meritts, and good works in the Church of God, might se­curely passe out of this world to God. Peace, Brethren peace (sayd he) for I am as fearfull, and carefull, of this my iourney towards God, as yf I had neuer done good work in all my life. For yf by the assistance of diuine grace, anie good hath been in me, or anie fruit proceeded from my weaknes, I greatly tremble, and feare lest I haue not conserued the same grace with that reuerence, and humilitie as was necessarie. And armed with the shield of this prefect humilitie which his dying words testified to be well grounded in his heart, he sweetly reposed in our Lord, the 28. day of March, but his feast is celebrated this seauenth of Aprill, which is the day of his cano­nization. This life is taken chiefly out of William Malmesbury who liued in the same time with S. Stephen. The Roman mart. maketh mention of him this day. Baronius tom. 11. Sigebertus in Chron. ann. 1107. Arnould Wion lib. 1. c. 42. Nicholas Harps field, and manie others doe amply speak [...] his prayses.

The life of S. ELPHEGVS Archbishop of Canturbury, and Martir, of the holy order of S. BENEDICT.
APR. 19. Written by Os­borne a monk of Cantur­bury.

ELPHEGVS descēding by byrth from most noble Ancestors orde­red the whole course of his life according to the rules of excellēt prudence, and humilitie. His parents much admiring the inocencie of his industrious mind and life, putt him to be worthyly brought [Page 362] vp in the knowledge of good learning, and the true wisedome of He taketh the habitt of a Bene­dictin Monk. Christian religion. Wh [...]n this godly youth made it the whole stu­die of his philosophie to learne how to lo [...] God, desiring only to know, and obey him, and all wales to sub [...] him self and his actions to the sweet yoake of his diuine seruice. Being touched therefore with a spirit of maiestie, neglecting his fathers inheritan­ce, and forgetting his mothers griefe, who dearly loue [...]im▪ he for­soke the vaine world, and putt on the habitt [...] of a monk of S. BENEDICTS order in a little monasterie called [...]st: where he began to sett aside all the self-will of his owne priuate des [...]es, hum­bling him self to the seruice and obedience of all his b [...]ethren, whose only instrument, as it were, the s [...]wed him self [...]o be in a [...] occa­sions: allwaies stri [...]g with all to profitt more [...]ore in the loue of God, and by much watching and fasting▪ to [...] the rebellious motions of his bodie, to the rule and subiectio [...] of reason. And indeed, not only to him self but to whom soeuer else he was able to doe good, he endeauoured carefully to performe it: which yf he could not to some, [...] [...]e abstained from doeing th [...]m harme. Hauing piously spent [...] yeares in a monasticall life [...] partly in the monasterie af [...]esayd, [...] partly in famous Ben [...] Abbey of Glasenbury) when he [...]aued the florishing time of youth to steale away, he resolued to vndertake a stricter course of life, and to enter into a single c [...]bat [...] with the auncient enemie of man­kind. Therefore goeing out of h [...]s monasterie, he came to the place He vnderta­keth a soli­tarie li [...]e. called Bathe, (where the warme strings that rise out of [...] earth, are profitable against manie diseases) and there he remayne [...]tt close vp in a little lodge, which he built him self, chastising his bodie with fasting, and abstinence after an incredible rigorous manner. Within a short time manie of the better sort of the countrey flo­cked vnto him, to discouer the spirituall wounds of their soules, de­siring to haue them tented with the sharpnes of his pious corre­ction, and cured with the salue of his good counsell. Whence it came to passe, that within a short time he had gathered togeather no small Conuent of monkes in the same place, which him self gouer­ned according to the Benedictin rule and discipline which he had learned before.

II. HE WAS wont greatly to blame, and rebuke those who did [Page 363] chainge their secular habitt, but would not chainge their life. Doth not that man (sayd he) seeme to be full of falsehood, who maketh Against those that change their ha­bits, and not their manners. shew to be what he is not indeed, whilst he conterfaits one thing in his habitt, and beares an other in his heart? For it is better not to chainge our habitt at all, then hauing chainged, to neglect the conuersion of our manners. But hauing erected an ample house for his disciples, and prescribed a perfect law of sobrietie, and con­tinencie vnto them, and taught them how to bridle and curbe their carnall desires; he remayned him self shutt vp in a little narrow lod­ging, where be attended only to the more important and weightier affayres of his monks. In the meane time, manie of his subiects being vnmindfull of their promise and profession made to allmigh­tie God, the raines of obedience being lett loose, beganne to spend whole nights and dayes, in imployments vnworthy their holy pro­fession. Against whose greuious offences, allmightie God sent a reuengfull punishment. For as one night S. ELPHEGVS (as his cu­stom The diuine punishmēt of a negli­gent monk. was) stood a holy sentinell at his prayers, he heard a great noyse, and clamour within the Monasterie. And goeing forth, found one of the brethren lying along in miserable affliction; vppon whom stood two men of most horrid lookes, and filthie apparell, who cruellie scourged him with whippes, and fierie serpents. And as he awaked, and roared out loud witnesses and signes of his extreme payne, his tormentors did vpraid him; that as he had not obeyed God, nether would they obey him. With which words they conti­nued their crueltie, till they had beaten his soule out of his bodie. At this woefull fight the holy man quite resoluing into teares, returned back to his Cell. But the rest of the brethren, being terrified with this accident, confessed their faults, did worthie peanance, and amended their liues euer after.

III. BVT the incomparable S. ETHELWOLD Bishop of Winchester being dead, a great contention arose betweene the Monks and the A conten­tion about ele [...]ting a [...]ishop of Winch [...]ster secular clergie, touching the election of a successour. For the Cler­gie of that Church, that before led a most wicked life, contrarie to the decrees of the holy canons, and being oftentimes rebuked for the same by the forenamed Bishop, they not only refused to correct their lewd manners, but laboured with an obstinnate spiritt to defend their lewdnes, it was decreed by a Regall law, that they [Page 364] should be expelled, and their function committed to others that were more worthie. Therefore, the clergie being driuen out, the Benedictin Monks that feared God were introduced againe. Whence it came to passe, that in the choosing of a bishop, the secular Clergie a Clergie man, the Monks desired to promote a Monk to the place, each striuing to aduance a man of his owne coate. Which great S. DVNSTAN Archbishop of Canturbury perceauing, had re­course to the refuge of prayer, making an humble suplication to the all-foreseeing wisedome of God, to voutchafe to shew whom his diuine maiestie iudged worthy for the gouernment of that Church. And as he deuoutly and often repeated ouer his prayers, S. ANDREW the Apostle appeared to him with these words. Why art thou soe sad? why doest make such lamentable complaints? Arise, and place the Abbot ELPHEGVS in the vacant Episcopall sea of that desolate Church. Nether let anie contrarie power withstand thee in this; for not from anie man, but from God him self this sentence of him hath proceeded. And left thou distrust anie thing in mee, know that I am He is made Bishop the yeare 984. ANDREW the Apostle of IESVS-CHRIST, and a most faythfull guar­dian of thy health and saluation. DVNSTAN much encouraged here­with, consecrated Blessed ELPHEGVS bishop, as he was commaunded, and sent him honourably to the sea of Winchester.

IV. BEING installed in that sacred dignitie, he soe wisely framed and The seue­ritie of his life. conformed him self to the manners, and humours of all men, that he became most beloued of all, and (which is rare among mortals) noe man enuied at his glorie. He was most mercifull vnto all others; but to him self he appeared most cruell, and seuere. For in the verie dead time of winter, amidest the frost and snow, at midnight when all his poeple lay buried vnder the heauines of sleepe, he was wont secretly to rise out of his bed, and goe out barefooted with one single gar­ment See the holy mans wonderfull [...]eannes. a bout him, to busie him self at his prayers and meditation till morning. In his diet he was soe extrēly sparing that he would rise frō table all most as emptie as he sate downe, whēce it came to passe that his bodie was taken downe to such a low degree of leannes, that whē at Masse he eleuated the holy sacrament, the cleernes of the light might be seene through the ioynts in the palmes of his hands. He knew how to temper, & fashion his mind, and speech to all kind of men. He permitted none of his diocessans to beg publickly frō doore [Page 365] to doore, nether did he suffer the poore of other places to depart without an almes, iudging it an vnreafonable, & horrible offence for a man to vsurpe that as a propertie of his owne, which nature ordayned to be common to all. Wherefore he carefully maintayned that he was noe true member of our Lords bodie, that did not suc­cour the necessities of the poore. For yf when one member of the bodie is in paine, the rest out of a cōpassiō doe not suffer with it, it is manifest that that is not a member of the same bodie, which in the suffrance of an other, is not disposed to compassion. But when those meanes were exhausted, which by right of the Church belonged to the maintenance of the poore, he caused the manie treasures which he had layd vp for that purpose to be distributed amongst them: gi­uing posteritie a lesson hereby, that Churches were endowed with store of riches, to serue in time of plentie for an ornament, and in time of want for profitt.

V. BVT when that worthie Pillar of our English Church S. DVN­STAN perceaued death to be at hand; and feared by the succes­sion of some wicked person, the coming of trouble into the Church which now was well setled in peace, and tranquillitie, he sollicited with manie prayers the diuine mercle, that he might haue E [...]PHEGVS his successour in the sea of Canturbury. His pe­tition was heard in the holy court of heauen, and a graunt pro­mised: allbeit the promise were not straight fullfilled. Which perchance was deferred, that more cleerly it might appeare vnto the world, how highly S. DVNSTAN was beloued of God, who soe truelie performed a long time after his death that which he promi­sed in his life time: and that S. ELPHEGVS might fall into such times, as should aduance him to the glorious crowne of martyrdome. Therefore, in the yeare of our lord 1006 and from the coming of the English into Britalne 578. S. ELPHEGVS in the two & fiftith yeare of his age, when he had gouerned the sea of Winchester twentie two He is made Archbis­hop of Cant urbu­rie. yeares, was raysed to the Archiepiscopal dignitie of Cāturbury. Who trauayling towards Rome to obtaine his Palle, as he entred to lodge in a certaine towne by the way, the townsmen perceauing him to be a strāger, & being verie greedie of their owne gaine, brake into his lodging, robbed him of what he had, & with stripes cōpelled him poore & bare as he was to gett out of their towne. Which Iniuries [Page 366] man bearing away with patience, only a little grieued for his com­panies sake, returned the same way as he came. When he had not gone farr from thence, but horrible cries were heard from the walls, which proclaimed the sudden ruine of the whole towne. For an outrageous flame layd hould of the buildings, which furiously began to consume all to ashes: and seeing it still soe vehemently [...]n­creasing that there was scarse anie hope of escaping a generall de­struction, & suspecting that it might be a punishment for that rude violation of hospitalitie, they ranne after the holy man, humbly cō ­fessing their fault, and desiring pardon. The sainct present taking compassion on their miserie, made his prayers to allmightie God, He recea­neth his pall of Po­pe Iohn the 19 and these horrible flames were presently extinguished, and their furie ceased. Therefore, his goods being restored, be happily en­ded the rest of his iourney and returned againe into England with his Palle. And being setled in the Metropolitan sea of Canturburie he excellently performed whatsoeuer belonged to the dignitie, and function of a good bishop. The vertue of chastitie com­maunded soe high a seate in his soule, that noe man in his hea­ring durst bring forth a word anie way drawing to obscenitie, nor as much as relate anie dishonest storie. He was the comfort of the poore, the relieuer of the oppressed, and the sole refuge of the af­flicted.

VI. BVT ô the variable condition, and inconstant state of this world! The holy man had gouerned his Church but fower yeares, The Danes spoyle En­gland These mi­series we­re re [...]ealed to S. D [...]n­stan long before. when behould two Danish Princes called Swane, and Turkill, entred into England, vsing great outrage in some parts thereof, as a punish­ment for the poeples sinnes. But Swane being by the secret disposi­tion of god terribly slaine, Turkill hauing obtained the principali­tie of a wicked inheritance, wasted and spoiled manie Prouinces in England with fier and sword. For king Etheldred being a weake im­potent man not giuen to warlick affayres, made shew in his actions rather of a monk then a souldier: and the people of the Countrey corrupted with the possession of their riches, and tied to their owne pleasures, thought nothing honourable but the sole priuate com­moditie of their owne bodies. Therefore, euerie one caring only for him self, and his owne goods, all refrayned from making warre and noe man vndertooke the common cause and quarrell of the [Page 367] whole countrey: since therefore it was to be fought, that euerie one should winne that glorionsly with the sword which he desires to be master off. But among all these dangers, our couragious holy bis­hop, S. Elephe­gus pre­cheth to his ene­mies the Danes. was wont to preach the word of life to these enemies, the bar­barous messengers of death, to ransome captiues, and prisonners, and carefully to feed those whom hunger had allmost brought be­yōd necessitie. Wherevppō, by how much he was honoured and re­uerenced by the faythfull, by soe much he was cōtemned & abhor­red by those infidels. But he chosing rather to be called Beelzebub with our Lord, then Rabbi or master with the Pharisee, ceased not to follow on his pious worke, endeauouring to comfort, and en­courage the Christians in their fayth, and to couuert the infidels to the fayth.

VII THE king had ordained one Edrick prefect ouer the whole realme; a man of base parentage, but one that with his tongue had purchased both riches, & nobilitie; (yf that may be called nobili­tie) of a subtle witt, a pleasing discourse, and one who had gone beyōd all mortall mē in the crooked waies of enuie, falsehood, pri­de, & crueltie. This mās, brother being slaine by the nobles of Can­turburie, and his house burned, for playing the pick-thanck in detra­cting them before the king, & violently by vniust meanes inuading manie of their hereditaments, Edrick demaunds iustice and reuenge, the king denies his petition, affirming that his brother iustly suffe­red death. Therefore this prefect hauing gathered an armie of tenne thousand men, endeauoured to reuenge his brothers death by the sword which he could not by law. But his attempts taking small effect, he desired ayde from the Danes, not only to destroy the cit­tie of Canturbury, but to inuade the whole realme of England, which after the victorie should be deuided amongst them by lotts. The match is made, they shake hands, and take solemne oathes for the performance and first they resolued to destory Canturburie. Which the holy bishop vnderstanding, he called the poeple togeather say­ing: Be of good courage, my deare bretheren, and place the maie­stie of allmightie God before your eyes: feare nothing, but him who Matt. 10. Joh. 13. & 18. hath power to destory both bodie and soule into hell: arme your selues with true humilitie, and patience: For CHRIST him self when he was God, and his father had giuen all things into his hands, would not be [Page 368] reuenged on his enemies, but commaunded the sword embrewed in the bloud of Malchus, to be sheathed againe into the scaberd of peace and patience.

VIII. AT length, the cittie of Canturburie hauing been besieged The yeare 1011. the Dane [...] be­siege Cā ­t [...]rbury. by the Danes the space of twentie daies, and the greatest part of their victuals and prouifion within being spent, the holy bishop sent a messenger to aduise those barbarians to cease from that wicked enterprise, and saue the liues of the innocent poeple, lest too inso­lently they abused the scourge of Gods diuine wrath, graūted for a time to chastise of his children. But the enemies scornefully des­pising his commaunds began rather to double their furie then anie way to relent; raysing of bulwarks, battring the walles, & casting of wild fier into the towne. Till by the treason of Elmerick the Ar­chdeacon (whose life S. ELPHEGVS had saued before) one part of the cittie was sett one fier. The it was a pittifull spectacle to see how that deuouring element, being blowne with the furie of a south wind, did disperse it self, consuming all the buildings as it went. Thē the cittizens entred into a woefull deliberation with them selues, whether they should forsake the defending of their walles, to runne to their owne houses, or neglect them, & stand stiffely in defence of the cittie. But the common good was ouerthrowne with priuate af­fection, the sweet remembrance of their children, & a naturall cō ­miseration to defend their familie made them leaue the defence of the towne. They runne therefore, to deliuer their wiues & children Canturbu­ry misera­b [...]y sacked frō a midst the rauenous flames, to reserue them for the butcherie of the Danish furie whose edge they shall quickly feele. For in the meane time, the walls are broken downe, the furious armie enters with such a horrible noyse what with the clamour of voyces, and sounding of trumpetts, that the verie foundatiō of the cittie seemed to shake, fearing to be oppressed with the ensuing ruines. Then they began to reape a bloudie haruest in a field of miserable disor­der and confusion: the whole cittie was a woefull stage full of no­thing but bloud and horrour: some were cutt of with the prince of weapons the sword, others consumed with fier, whose outrageous flames seemed to enuie that some part of their prey was snatched Inhumane cruelties out of their iawes by the sword, manie were throwne hedlong from the walls that died before they came to their iourneys end; [Page 369] Matrones compelled to discouer treasures which they had not, are dragged by the hayre of the head, and cast into the vnsatiable fla­mes. Little babes snatched from their mothers breasts, are pierced with their lances, or cruelly bruised to death vnder cart wheeles. In the meane time, S. ELPHEGVS, who grieued to see such a generall ruine amonst his poeple, being then in the Church with his monks, brake suddenly out of their hands that held him, and with a cour­ragious resolution ranne into the verie midst and thickest of The wonderfull courage o [...] SEl phe­gus. that murdring armie, crying out with a loud voyce: Spare spare, (sayd he) and as ye are men cease to persecute this poore innocent age. I [...] is not a victorie wherein the innocencie of sucking childr [...] is slaine: nether is there anie prayse or glorie purchased by exerci­sing deaths cruelties vppon the meeke and humble. Looke vppon me here that haue all waies giuen my tongue free scope in chastising your impious crimes, I am the man, that soe often haue nourished, clothed, and redeemed the captiues and poore prisoners by you pu­nished. Rather lett the whole furie of your wrath and anger be quenched in my bloud, then in the slaughter of poore innocents. O sacred courage of a generous mind! ô inuincible Pastour of the faythfull, whom noe entreaties nor prayers of his chiefest friends could perswade to leaue his flock for the fasegard of his owne life! How worthyly may that sentence of our Sauiour be applied to this glorious Prelate? Bonus Pastor animam suam ponit pro ouibus suis. A good Pastor setteth his life at the stake for his sheepe.

IX. THEREFORE he was presently apprehended, and the He is ap­prebended and em­prisoned. threed of his speech cutt of by their violent hands that tooke him by the throate, his hands were bound behind him, his cheekes were rent and torne with their deuilish nayles, his sides endured manie a sore blow layd on with their fists, and heeles: the Church is committed to the flames, and all the flock of CHRIST slaine with the edge of the sword. For the monks, and all the poeple men woemen and children throughout the whole towne were tithed to the butcherie, after a most cruell manner: nine were slaine, and the tenth saued, soe that of all the monks there remayned but fower, & of the rest but eight hundred in all the towne. The holie bishop was cōmitted to the horrour of a close prison where he lay the space of seauē moneths. In the meane time, allmightie God powred forth his [Page 370] reuengfull wrath against that barbarous poeple, soe that within a a short time two thousand of them died miserably, through most cruell torments in their gutts, and all the rest being suddenly stru­cken with the same disease were sooner in danger of death then they were a ware of chainge. Then they were admonished by the faythfull poeple to doe peanance for their sinnes, and make satis­faction to the bishop; which the [...] refused to doe, imagining that afflction to haue befallen them b [...] [...]haunce only. But their destru­ction still encreasing, and preuayling against all those that had en­deauoured to depriue the holy man of life, and now tenne, now twentie being suddenly sent to follow their fellowes to death, through most terrible torments of the head, and entrailes, struck such a terrour into those that remayned aliue, that they ranne straight to the bishop, and with teares desired pardon for their im­pietie committed: and hauing with honour led him out of prison, to the publick view of the poeple; he spake these words vnto them: Although your insatiable crueltie deserue noe pardon, yet by the example of our Lord, we are taught what we ought to doe: who His speech to the poe­ple. Joan. 13 when he voutchafed to wash the feet of his disciples, did not exclu­de him, whom he foresaw would betray him into the hands of his enemies, nay he fedd him with the most sacred banquett of his bodie, and bloud: And hauing with the sole power of his word o­uer throwne the officers of the Pharisees that came to apprehend Joan. 18. him, he presently raysed them againe, and cured them: and which is a notable signe of his great goodnes, those, whom he perceaueth dayly with a stubborne mind to resist his diuine admonitions, he suffers notwithstanding to liue, yea and to excell their betters in humane goods and prosperities. Wherefore, because I desire to be an vnworthyly deuour follower of his sacred examples, forgetting the burning of the cittie, the shedding of soe much innocent bloud forgetting, I say, all the crimes of your former impietie done a­against me, as our Lord entreated his father in behalfe of his Cruci­fiers, L [...]u. 23. soe will I make intercession to him for you my tormentours. Bring hither then some bread, which forthwith shall be made who­lesom, and soueraigne against your infection: that being refreshed therewith, and receauing your desired health, you may ether render thankes vnto the supreme giuer of all health, or remaine more im­pious [Page 371] in your blasphemie, and sacriledge. And hauing giuen to With holy bread he cureth the infected Danes They rēn­der bad for good. them all, some of the bread which he had hallowed, they were deli­uered from that death-threatning infection.

X BVT ô barbarous ingratitude I all this goodnes could not draw a dram of true curtesie from those bloud-thirsting hearts. For they were noe sooner restored to health, but presently fower princes were sent to the bishop, first to giue him some slight than­kes for his benefitt, and them to [...] of him to ransom his life and libertie, yf he would enioy ether, with the summe of three thousand marks. Which whē he refuse [...], as being a thing against all iu­stice to giue the goods of the Church to Pirats; they bound him a­gaine in retters, & being on the verie festiuall day of Easter, afflicted with most exquisite torments, he was againe shutt vp in a prison. Where, as in a pensiue solitarines he gaue thankes to allmightie God, in that he was found worthie to suffer for a good cause, a See the subtle false hood of the deuill. wicked spiritt appeared vnto him, in forme of an Angel of light, who being the father of all lies could not but tell a lie at the first word, and say that he was sent from the court of heauen to deliuer him out of the horrour of that prison, for the common good of his poeple. Nether needed he to feare (sayd that agent of Hell) to be reprooued with the name of a cowardly Champion for Act. 9. Act. 12. this, since he could not thinke him self humbler then the Apo­stles PETER who was led out of prison by an Angel; or valianter then sainct PAVL, whom was stolne out of the midst of per­secution in a baskett. And CHRIST him self, to escape the hands of those that would haue stoned him, went out of the Temple, 10. 8. and by an euangelicall precept gaue licence to his disciples to flie from the face of persecution. The holy bishop deceiued Matt. 10 with these faire-seeming speeches, yeelded to follow his decei­uer out of the prison. And hauing past ouer manie ditches and brookes, of water, through the darke and horrid shades of the night, on a sudden the wicked spiritt vanished, and left the holy man in the midst of bogges and marshes; who now per­ceauing the guiles of his false leader, fetcht a deepe sigh of greefe from the verie bottom of his heart, and casting him self into Behould a miserable case the midst of those mirie places earnestly implored the assistance of our Lord in that miserie. O Fountaine of all life, (sayd be powring [Page 372] out woefull streames of teares) ô sole refuge of the children and stock of Adam, why hath thy heauenly grace forsaken me in my old age, whom in the flower of my youth it was neuer wont to fayle? Wilt thou suffer him whō soe lōg thou hast mercifully preser­ued, to be cast away, and perish at the last? O my beloued Lord, how often in the shiphrack of this mortall life haue I had thee my deli­uer? Let me now againe, I beseech thee, haue experience of thy con­solation in this vnhappie illusion of my enemie: be my ayde in this vnlucky hower of my affliction. The prison is behind me, a riuer be­fore me, darknes round about mee, and the horrid authour of dark­nes by me, soe that wretched ELPHEGVS thy seruant stands encom­passed on all sides with troupes of miseries, and left poore to thy mercie, thou I hope wilt be an ayde to thy forlorne Orphan.

XI. WITH these and such like speeches, the woefull witnesses of his afflicted heart, he ceased not to callvppon the diuine mercie, S. Elphe­gus com­forted by an Angel. when behould there appeared a yong man cloathed in most bright shining apparell, bearing the ensigne of CHRISTS passiō in his hand: and whither (sayd he) dost thou wander? whither dost thou desire to flie? Whither doth thy enuious conductour leade thee? Is it the way to purchase a crowne by flying out of the lists of the battle? Or how can he glorie in the prize of the victorie, who would not runne to the end of the race? To whom, when the bishop had answeared, that he did not flie, but obeyed the commaund of heauens messenger: This was not a message from God (replied the other) but a false inuention of the deuils malice, who did not soe much desire to educe thee out of prison, as to seduce thee being out. For he is shrewdly netled with the pious workes of thy life past, and to see thee allwaies enioy the present consolation of the holy Ghost in all thy afflictions: whose presence giueth constancie to all men, constancie getts victorie, and victorie purchaseth euer­lasting glorie. Returne thē to the place deputed to thee from aboue to obtaine thee a crowne, and know that to morrow our heauenly father will honour thee in heauen, with that eternall happines to liue with his sonne for euer.

XII. Now that Sainct ELPHEGVS was brought back to the Againe he is cruelly tormented place of his triall, with great ioy he expected the hower where­in he should receaue the crowne of martirdom. But being come [Page 373] neere to the prison gate he was apprehended by a troupe of those butchers, who hauing cruelly beaten him with stripes, and hurt his braine with greuious blowes vppon the head, lockt him vpp in a prison allmost half dead, where euery hower of the night they cast on a fier made of purpose whatsoeuer they could imagine would yeeld the filthiest stink, and smoake, to annoy the holy man in that close roome. But a good part of the night being past, the gates of hea­uen opened, and those glorious spirits began to be compartners in The Saincts come to visitt him. his suffrings, and to breath forth the sweet odours of eternall life, resounding with their melodious voyces himmes of celestiall ioy and melodie. Whom, as S. ELPHEGVS heard, and considered to the great comfort of his painfull soule, he beheld saint DVNSTAN late Archbishop of Canturbury, glorious in countenance, and habitt, asisting amongst them, who stretching forth his hand, spake to him in these words: To thee; ô Inuincible Champion of our eternall King, to honour thee with our dutie we come, sent from him, who hath graunted thee victorie ouer thine enemies, and prepared thee an euer-florishing crowne in heauen. Behould what companie thou shalt perpetually enioy after this mortall life, the citizens of our heauenly Hierusalem, and the most glorious domestiks of God; yf thou ouercome with patience, what remaines to be suffered for the loue of CHRIST. For we haue beheld the ma­nifold labours of the cittie, the burning of the Churches, the slaughter of our children, thy chaines, and reproches, and the redoubling of thy torments after benefitts bestowed vppon them. Armed then with the power of heauen, doe thou willingly vnder­goe what remaines, knowing that the suffrances of this time are not Rom. 8. wort ie of the future glorie, which shall be reuealed in vs. For the time of torment is but one day and that a short one too, but that of re­warde is infinite and without anie end. Take good courage then, and fight manfully, to obtaine the eternall glory promised to those that for the loue of God ouercome the world. At these words those glorious spirits vanished.

XIII IN THE meane time his fetters & chaines fell off, and all his sores All his wounds are healed mi­raculously. and wounds were perfectly healed. When it was an excellent sight to behould ELPHEGVS singing with those heauenly quiristers, and reioycing amongst their ioyes. But the next morning had noe [Page 374] sooner made a glorious shew of a good meaning, but he was led out of prison with an armed band of souldiers, and carried ca horseback to receiue his sentence, before the iudgement seate of impious tiranny. Where this choise was giuen him; Eyther pay gould for thy ransom, or this day thou shalt be made a miserable spectacle to the world: I offer you (answeared he with an vndaunted courage) the gould of diuine wisedom, which warnes you to leaue the vanitie you His indge­ment. loue soe dearly, and turne the whole care, and endeuour of your minds, to the true seruice of the only liuing God, which diuine coun­sell soe o [...]en proposed, yf yet obstinately yee despise to follow, yee will perish by a worle death then euer Sodom did, nether shall you or your succession take anie long-during roote in this land. At these words those officers of hell leaped furiously vppon him, and ha­uing beaten him, with their halberds to the ground, they began to lay a [...] him with stones, and whatsoeuer else came to hand. Whilst he being gott vppon his knees, powred out this prayer to allmigh­tie God. O IESVS-CHRIST only sonne of the eternall father, who camest into this world through the womb of the imaculate Virgin MARIE, to saue sinners, receiue my soule in peace, and haue mer­cie on these my tormentors; with that he was stricken flatt to the ground, but rising againe he went on; O good Pastour, O only Pa­stour, defend the children of thy Church, which with a dying voice I recommend vnto thy diuine care. Then one called Thrum, whom the day before he had confirmed, ranne violently vppon him, and with a cruell blow fastened his mercilesse axe in his sacred head: whereby that conquering spiritt was sett at libertie to receaue a glorious and triumphant crowne of martirdom in heauen. But the Princes of the Danes desiring to hide the wickednes of their owne fact, and darken the lustre of the Martirs glorie, decreed to drowne He goeth to heauen a martir. his dead bodie in the riuer; supposing thereby that the foulnes of their crime would soe much the more easily be kept close, by how much the more the memorie of the Sainct was blotted out of the minds of the poeple. But what the Danes intended for his reproche, CHRIST turned to his glorie. For all that multitude of poeple, which by his preaching had renounced their errours, stood vp in armes for his defence, choosing rather to accompanie him in death then to suffer his dead bodie, by whose meanes while it liued, they [Page 375] had receaued the ablution of life, to be buried in the vnsatiable A contro­sie about his bodie. gulph of the waters. Therefore that sacred relique, being a cause of controuersie betweene two poeple of disageeing opinions, remay­ned vnburied and vndrowned. But the consellours of both par­ties meeting in the euening with the force of reason to decide the cause of that contention, it was concluded by common consent of both sides ioyntly to make intercession to the Sainct him self, that yf he were of anie power or estimation before the face of allmightie God, he would shew the strength of his authoritie, in the decision of this doubtfull question. Behould (sayd the impious Danes) a bough cutt from its nourishing stock, depriued both of barke and moisture; yf this embrewed in ELPHEGVS his bloud, shall appeare the next morning florishing in the greene weeds of summer, it shall be graunted that we haue putt to death a iust, and holy man; and you shall haue power to burie him with as much honour as you please. But yf this wood remaine drie, and withered, as now it is, it shall be lawfull for vs to say, that you haue been blind in your af­fection towards him, and it shall be in our power to dispose of his bodie as we think best.

XIV. THE condition being willingly accepted on both sides, to A notable miracle. the end it might manifestly appeare to the world that S. ELPHEGVS his death was not a death but a beginning of a better life, that withe­red branch in the space of one night began to florish, and wax greene, and allbeit it were planted in the ground, but the euening before, yet it was found adorned with the greene liueries of spring, the next morning. Whereuppon their obstinate minds beginning to relent, they stroue to preuent one and other with embracing and kissing the dead bodie, humbly bowing downe their stubborne necks, and bathing his deaths-wounds with the flouds of their re­pentant tears. Therefore his bodie being lifted on the shoulders of his enemies, was caried in triumph to the new borne tree, as to the florishing trophie of his glorie; accompanied in the way with all­most innumerable miracles sent from heauen as testimonies of his cause, and goodnes. For the sick receaued their health, the blind their sight, the deafe their hearing, the dumb their speech, and the Manie mi­racles. lame the perfect vse of their limmes. And in a chappell of deuo­tion built ouer him in the same place, manie of the Danish nobilitie [Page 376] became ennobled with the Christian fayth, and new borne in the sacred font of baptisme. But when the Londoners vnderstood all these passages, they obtayned by the meanes of a summe of money, which commaunds all things, to haue his sacred reliques transported to London, where by the hands of the bishops Ed­noth of Lincolne, and Alfhune of London, it was verie honorably interred in the Cathedrall Church of saint PAVL. This Bles­sed Sainct was martired the ninteenth day of Aprill, being the saturday after Easterday, in the yeare of our Lord one hundred and twelue, the seau nth yeare of his bishoprick in Canturburie, and fiftie ninth yeare of his age. But God, the allmightie defender The diuine punishmēt of his mur­derers. of his seruants, shewed soe great examples of reuengefull punish­ment against the authours of his death; that one of the cap­taines was the blouddie cause of his one death, an other cutt his owne throate to auoyde further inconuenience; a priest that hid the holy Martirs crosse was crossed out of this life with the sword; and one of the same function that presumed to weare the holy Saincts pantafles, was before all the poeple cruelly tor­mented by the deuill. And soe horrible a terrour seazed on all the Dauish princes, that not daring to trust them selues on the footing of the lands they would needs aduenter their lines at sea, immagening there to escape the holy Martirs anger, whom the earth could not keepe in safetie from it. But they found the sea a farre more implacable element to suffer such impieties, for they were noe sooner launched into the deepes, but the blu­stering winds raysed such tumults in those floting Kingdomes, that of an hundred and threescore fayle, all suffered shipwrack excepting threescore and fiue ships, which being driuen to strainge countreys, all the men were miserably slaine by the inhabitans, who tooke them for spies sent to inuade their dominions. But the wicked ring­leader of mischief Turkill, stayed a while in England to play the Pira­te, likely at length to become a prey to the damned spiritts.

XV. FOR NOT long after, Canutus King of the Danes came Turkill worthyly punished. with a great nauie into England, where falling out with Turkill for some wicked and perfidious actions of his, he destroyed the whole remnant of his impious adherents, and followers, and compelled the Captaine him self to flie with six sayle into Denmarke: where [Page 377] being suspected by the princes to become an authour of some ciuill dissentions, and broiles, he was persecuted all ouer the countrey, till at length, being murdered by the base common poeple, his soule was sent to the rewards of her impietie, and his bodie throwne into the open fields to be buried in the gutts of rauens and wild beasts. But after this, Canutus perceiuing his poeple to be continually slaine by the English armie, and finding that the neighbourhood of neces­sitie cōpelled him to think of yeelding, he consulted with some of the wisest Englishmen, that had fled to him for refuge, to knowe what might be the cause of those manie mischances that had befallen him; they all with one voyce sayd that it was according to the prophesie of the holy Martir S. ELPHEGVS, who in his afflictions by the Danes his predecessours, foretould that they should take noe sure roote in the kingdom of England, but should perish by a worse death then Sodom. Now therefore (sayd they) yf thou desire to pacifie that holy Sainct during the time of thy raigne, promise him, that thy affayres succeeding well, thou wilt cause his sacred reliques to be honorably transported to his owne archiepiscopall seate of Canturbury, and bu­ried Can [...]tus promiseth to trauslate his bodie to Cantur­bury there amōgst his predecessours. Which promise faythfully made by Canntus (hauing within a while obtayned peace, & after peace the owne half of the kingdom, and after the half, the whole) was as faythfully performed. For tenne yeares after the holy martirs death, Canutus sent for Egelnoth Archbishop of Canturbury, who coming to London wēt directly to the Cathedrall Church of S. PAVL where the king presently gaue him the meeting, and declared that the cause why he sent for him was, to make vse of his authoritie and counsell, in the translation of S. ELPHEGVS his bodie to Canturbury.

XVI. THE Archbishop much amazed at the breath of this pro­position, answeared; that surely his maiestie had not taken mature deliberation, and considered sufficiently the reasons and grounds of aduenturing on soe great an enterprise. And moreouer, that for his part he feared lest he would be torne in peeces by the Londoners, who would rather loose their liues, then be depri­ued of soe great a treasure, and Patrone. And you see (sayd he further) that we haue here only our selues and two Monks, and the stone that couers his monument is of that weight and bignes, that some yoake of oxen are scarse able to mooue [Page 378] it. But the king, armed with the shield of a most inuincible fayth, answeared, that Gods, and the holy Martirs assistance (yf that tran­slation were pleasing vnto them) would not be wanting in a time of such necessitie. Therefore the labour was committed to those two monks; one of them was called Alsward in times past of familiar ac­quaintance A strange m [...]racle. with S. DVNSTAN; and the other Godrick, with Egelnoth now present. But for want of other instruments, they broke vp the cement, and lesser stones which fastened the tomb-stone, with an iron candlestick found there by chaunce. Then, putting all their confidence in God, and the holy Saincts intercession, they fell vpon their knees, and sett vppon a work, which they knew farre excee­ded their owne strength; and laying their shoulders to that huge stone, with great ease they mooued it to the other side. When pre­sently they beheld that sacred bodie to be most entier, and vncor­rupted; and Willam Malmesbury affirmeth for ceataine that it remay: ned in the same integritie, for the space of one hundred yeares after. Deg [...]t. Pont. lib. 1 & de gest reg. l. 1. cap. 16. But now an other thought troubled our two busied monks, which was that they wanted a boord to carrie the holy bodie to the boate; in which perplexitie as they composed, and wrapped it in linnen cloathes, they found vnder the bodie a boord, as it were prepared for the same purpose. Then lifting vp that sacred treasure on their shoulders they carried it to the water side, the king and Archbishop following after: who in the meane time had disposed garrisons throughout the cittie, and on both sides of the riuer Thames, to preuent all occasion of tumult among the cittizens. Being wafted ouer to the next shoare, Canutus with his owne hands putt the bodie into the waggon: and thus with great pompe, and honour, garded with a mightie troupe of souldiers it was transported to Canturbury, and there receiued with great reuerence, and ioy of the whole cittie. His bodie translated to Cantur­bury. And the third day after, Queene Emme, with her some Hardecaunt, very deuoutly visited it, leauing behind her manie verie ample, and rich offerings as euident witnesses of her fayth and deuotion.

XVII. NETHER was there wanting store of diuine miracles, which at that time honoured this translation, and allsoe in after ages: and from thence forth he was held, not only for a most holy bishop, but for a Martir too. VVherein, when S. LANFRANK Archbishop of Canturbury made some doubt; (because he did not die directly for [Page 379] the confession of the fayth, but in that he would not satisfie the co­uetousnes of the pirats, and ransom his owne life) and proposed the reason of his doubt to the worthie S. ANSELME then Abbott of the Benedictin monastery of Bec in France, who afterwards succeeded LAN­FRANK in the Archbishoprick; S. ANSELME most grauely, and ele­gantly handled that question, affirming that it was a thing not to Eadm. in vita An­selmi. l. 2. be doubted but that ELPHEGVS, who was enflamed with soe great loue to wards God, and his neighbour, that he chose rather to suf­fer a cruell death, then to see his neighbours vniustly depriued of their goods and money; would with a farre greater inclination and burning desire haue embraced a death offered him for the profes­sion of CHRIST, and his Ghospell. Therefore the loue and desire he had to see iustice exactly defended, and maintayned, brought him to those strieghts. Now CHRIST, who is both iustice, and Veritie, pronounceth those all soe to bee blessed that s [...]ffer persecution for Iustice. Againe, the martirdom of S. IONH Baptist (endured not for the Math. cap. 1. Fayth, but for the truth, in reprehending Herod for adulterie) is of most famous memorie throughout the whole Church: and why not that of S. ELPHEGVS suffered for the maintenance of iustice? which, and the works of all other vertues, as they are referred to allmightie God, may be true causes of Martirdom. These, and such like rea­sōs mooued LANFRANK not only to honour hi [...]h euer afterfor a Mar­tir, but caused his life to be faythfully written by Osberne a monke of Canturbury (whom we haue followed) which he confirmed by his authoritie, and made to be read in the English Church. The day of his glorious martirdom was celebrated the ninteenth of Aprill, on which he was martired. The historie written of him by the foresayd Osber­ne, S. Thom. 22. qu. 124 art. 5. is recited by Laurence Surius tom. 4. The particulars of his translation we haue taken out of Nicholas Harpsfield saec. 11. cap. 9. The Roman mar­tirologe maketh mention of him. And Baronius tom. 10. & 11. Malmesbury de gest. reg. lib. 1. & de gest. pontis. lib. 1. Roger Houedon priori parte Annal. an. 1011 and 1012. Mathew Westminster an. 1011. Iohn Cap­graue, and all our English writters are full of his prayses. In the Breuiary of Sarum he hath anoffice of three lessons: But in an auncient manuscript of S. BENEDICTS Order which belonged to the monastery of Burton vppon Trent he is serued with twelue lessons.

The life of S. ANSELME Archbishop of Canturb. of the holy order of S.BENEDICT.
APR. 21. Anno. 1080. Written by Edme­rus a mōk. of Cant. that liued in the same time with S. Anselme.

IN WRITING the excellent life, and incomparable vertues of the worthie Prelat S. ANSELME, who from the humilitie of a Bene­dictin monk, was raysed to the Metropolitan dignitie of Canturbury, we most perforce imitate the art of Geographers, who in the com­of [Page 381] a little card describe the globe of the whole world: I will cōprehēd APR. 2 [...]. in a few words, that which well deserues a volume, and giue you a brief pourtraict, or a bridgemēt of the works of this glorious Sainct, this great doctour, this mirrour of Bishops, this ornament of our En­glish Church, and bright sunne of the Benectin familie. Vnto whō (that nothing might be wanting for the making vp of a man perfect in all things) was added the nobilitie of a godly, & honourable parentage. He was borne in the cittie Augusta neere the cōfines of Burgandy. His His wor­thie pa­re [...]tage. father was called Gundulphus, by nation a Lumbard, who vsing much to the cittie of Augusta married there a ladie called Ermerberg, by whō he had the happines to haue ANSELME. They were both of noble bloud, & rich, but very contrarie in life, and manners, for his fathers greatest care was to spend his time in worldly mirth, and pleasure, and to liue merrily: when on the order side, his wife carefully go­uerned her house, constantly perseuering in the cōtinuall exercise of pious, & vertuous workes, to the last gaspe of her life: But Gundul­phus, being by the death of his good wife, freed frō the bonds of ma­trimonie, His father becometh a monke. it pleased allmightie God to make him enter into more pious cōsiderations, & reclaime his old age, tired with sayling amōg the turbulent pleasures of the world, to retire to the quiet shoare of a monasticall life, wherein he spent the rest of his daies happily. But ANSSELME, the worthie branch of this noble stock, in whō from his tē ­der age it seemed vertue was incorporate, to become visible to mor­tall eyes, with the siluer innocēcie of his sweet carriage & behauiour purchased the loue & affection of all men. Well doeing which other men gett by labour, & industrie, seemed to be in him by nature, since he had consecrated his infancie through the ignorance of vice, and emulatiō of vertue. Being sett to schoole, he profitted beyond all his other fellowes. He had scarse seene fifteen yeares of age, but straight he began with a graue prudence to cōsider with him self of the dan­gers, & miseries of the world, plottīg how he might better settle him self in the true seruice of God; when he resolued that noe manner of life was comparable to that of monks, & religious men. Therefore being desirous to leaue the world, & become a monk, he asked the S. Auselme asking the habitt of a monke, is denied. habitt of an Abbot of that countrey, who fearing his fathers displea­sure that was ignorant of ANSELMS intētion herein, refused to graunt his request. But ANSELME cōstant in his holy purpose made his prayer [Page 382] to allmightie God to send him some corporall sicknes that soe at lest he might become a monk and a Patient in Religion, to cure the diseases (or rather conserue the innocencie) of his soule. His prayers were heard and his request graunted: when languishing in his desired sicknes, he sent to the Abbot with manie earnest entreaties to be ad­mitted into his order, for that now he feared death was at hand. But he, vpō the same humane respects as before, againe denied his petitiō.

II. AFTERWARDS, his health returning againe, worldly pleasures and prosperities soe sweerly smiled vppon him now in the flower of his youth, that the feruour of his former purposes and desires, began by little a little to grow cold (especially after the death of his good mother, whom he highly loued and respected) & he tooke againe to him self free scope to follow the inclination and desires of his sen­suall appetits; not only forgetting the spiritt of his first Vocatiō, but allsoe omitting his studie in sciences, which before he had soe care­fully His fathers anger against him. followed. But while thus he hunted in the traine of his owne passions, it pleased allmightie God to looke vpon him with the ey of a mercifull clemencie, and permitted his father to enter into such an extreme dislike of him, that he could not affoord him as much as a good looke, hating, and disdayning in his sonne, as well the good, as the euill: when on the other side, nether his filiall humilitie, or du­tie, was of power to appease, or anie way satisfie his angrie father. Wherevppon he chose rather to renounce all his worldly inheri­tance, then to endure the stormes of such furie, fearing to runne the hazard of further inconuenience. Therefore, iudging his friends and domesticques to be his greatest enemies, he forsoke his fathers house to seeke his content and repose else-where. He departed with one only companion, & partly in France partly in Burgundy, he spent the space of three yeares. But the worthie fame of Lanfranks pietie and learning coming to his eares, he ranged him self into the list of manie other yong men of his vertuous schoole, in the Benedictin Abbey of He beco­meth schol ler to Lan­frank. Bec in Normandy. When it was rare to see, how ANSELME was not soe ioyfull to be a scholler of soe excellēt a master, as Lanfrank was glad to be a master to soe worthy a scholler. The masters care and labour in teaching, was rewarded in the scholler with an extraordinarie di­ligence of learning what he taught, in soe much that in a short time, he not only made a great progresse into the knowledge of holy [Page 383] scriptures, and other good doctrine, but allsoe exercising him self in watching, and prayer, and other actes of deuotion, he became verie desirous to attaine to the height of vertuous perfection. For the fa­miliar conuersation he vsed with his good and vertuous master S. LANFRANK caused the light of his auncient resolution towards a mo­nasticall life, againe like a fayre morning of pietie, to breake out through the clouds of worldly vanities, wholly to dedicate him self to Gods seruice: True it is that he was much perplext with difficulties to attayne the end he aymed at. On the one side he found him self greatly inclined to lead a solitarie life in the desert, thereby to applie and employ his thoughts more securely in diuine cōtēplation: on the other side, he thought it a more secure way, to liue vnder the rod of obedience in a monasterie: againe (his father hauing left him heyre of great lands, and goods) he was in doubt, whether he might not doe God greater seruice, liuing in the world, and yearly distributing the best part of his meanes to the poore, & pious vses. In these perplexi­ties this prudent yong man would not of him self resolue anie thing, in a matter of soe great moment, but consulted his master LAN­FRANK, sincerely laying open the secret thoughts of his heart, fully He consul­teth Lan­frank of choosing a course of life. resigning his will into his hands, with intention to follow the dicta­men of his good counsell. The master was vnwilling to resolue his scholler, in a matter of such importance, but referred it to the iudg­ment of the venerable Prelat Maurill Archbishop of Roane: vnto whom they went both, and proposed their difficultie: who, hauing heard the cause, counselled ANSELME to embrace a religious and mo­nasticall life, as the most perfect, and assured way to heauen; and fol­lowing this aduise he resolued to humble his neck vnder the sweet yoake of CHRIST in the holy order of Sainct BENEDICT.

III. BVT THERE remayned yet an other difficultie, of choosing the place, whether he should take the habitt at Cluny, or Bec: at the first, he thought his labour, and learning might be to manie profitable, at the other, he feared it would, like a little starre before the sun­ne, be darkened with the bright splendour of LANFRANK, and soe be­come of little or noe seruice at all. While his thoughts were tossed with these wauering opinions, he began to discourse with him self in this sort: Why ANSELME what dost thou meane? what doest thou think on? Doest thou intēd to make a monasticall life the first stepp [Page 384] to obtaine fame, glorie, renowne, and superioritie? God forbid: For the true scope of a monke, must be to humble him self to others, and He taketh the habitt of S Bene­dict. vtterly to despise all titles of honour & dignitie. And this thou wilt attaine to at the Abbey of Bec, or noe where. Therefore without all delay, he went thither & putt on the habitt of S. BENEDICTS order in the sayd monastery, where the venerable man Hurluin was Abbot, who out of his owne meanes and patrimonie had first built, & foun­ded that Abbey. ANSELME was then at the age of 27. yeares, when he became soe carefull, & attentiue to imitate the vertues of his other brethren, that at the terme of three yeares, he became him self to be a bright mirrour of religious perfection, and monasticall discipline to the whole conuent. Soe that B. LANERANK being taken from the Priorship to be made Abbot of the monastery of Cane, ANSELME much against his will was created Prior in his place. Which title of He is made Priour. honour did not only, not hinder him in the way to perfection, but was rather a meanes more freely to applie him self thereunto, by the cōtinuall practise of diuine contēplation, & heauēly discipline follo­wed with soe great feruour, that he attayned to suchan height of spe­culation, that he discouered, & maintained with euident reasons, ma­nie questions, and assertions of the diuine nature, neuer heard off be­fore his time. Lying one night awake in his bed, he had manie doubt­full thoughts, how the Prophets did not only see things present, but things to come allsoe, foretelling them as distinctly as they had been present. And being not able to perceaue how this might be, his vn­derstanding laboured with an incredible desire to be resolued in this poynt: when on a suddaine fixing his eyes towards the Church and dorter, by the meanes of a diuine light, the beames of his eyes pierced through all the walls interposed, and shewed him the monks (whose office it was) adorning the aultar, preparing the quier for the singing He s [...]eth through the walls. of mattins, lighting of candles: & at the knock of the bell be beheld thē all rising out of their beds, & goeing to the diuine seruice. Being much amazed hereat, he vnderstood by this heauenly lustre, that it was a verie easie matter with God to make the Prophets foresee things to come, since he permitted him with corporall eyes to see what passed through the resistance of soe manie walls.

IV. FVRTHERMORE, being replenished with the cleere light of wise­dome, he had such a certaine discretion of spirits that he easily pier­ced The geat light of his f [...]le. [Page 385] the māners and inclinations of all that came to him, euen to the knowledge of their secretest thoughts. He discouered allsoe the ve­tie source, and roote of vertues, and vices teaching with wonderfull rules, and examples, how to purchase the one, and auoyd the other. His ver­tuous exer­cises. Out of the continuall contemplation of the celestiall happines, and an ardent desire of the euerlasting life, he would oftentimes powre out whole flouds of teares, equally bewayling other mens sinnes, as his one. He had soe great force and efficacie in giuing of counsell that the verie spiritt of all good counsell seemed, as in a throne, to rule and raigne in his breast. His continuall exercises in fasting, wat­ching, prayer, and other mortifications of bodie to bring it subiect to the spiritt, were such, and soe great, that they deserue rather to be admired then writtē. In fasting, he had gott such a naturall habit, that he was nether molested with hunger, nor delighted in satisfying his hunger with eating. He slep verie litle, employing all his time in the carefull execution of his office, in comforting the afflicted that had recourse vnto him, in praying, in meditating, in studying, in compo­sing manie deuout bookes, and corecting such as were corrupted.

V. THE prudence, charitie, and meekenes he vsed in gouerning His pru­dence in gouerning. his subiects, and trayning them in the studie of true vertue and religion, was admirable, especially towards those, who were lesse obedient then was requisite; Among whom were some, whoe greatly enuied that he was preferred before them, to the Priorship, & others who did carpe, and back bite all his sayings, and doeings. Against these and their malice the prudent holy man, fought with soe great discretion, in shewing them all duties of fraternall charitie, that with the sweetnes of his demeanour, he brake their stonic hearts, and with the maiestie of his humilitie and modestie, he reclaymed them to the leuell of his owne will. This sweet, and meeke spiritt, which our Lord bestowed vppon him, appeared more cleerly in that which passed betweene him and a yong monk called Osberne, one of a piercing witt, and good abilitie, but a verie libertine in his manners; of a turbulent, and detracting spiritt, and in all things soe contrarie to his superiour that he disdayned to giue him a good looke, when he was admonished to follow the rules of modestie, and vertue. Him, runing headlong into the ruine of his One os­berne i [...]a­teth S. Au­selme. owne soule S. ANSELME vndertooke to cure, which he performed [Page 386] with wonderfull great art and prudence. For perceauing his course to be in a desperate violence inclined to vice, he did not presently thunder against him with the terrour of sharpe words, & correctiōs, Anselms pious craft to reduce him to good. but first shined in all loue and meeknes towards him, giuing scope for a time, to the raines of his inordinate passions; when OSBERN [...] perceiuing how he enioyed his pleasures vnder the wings of his al­lowance, began exceedingly to loue him, and wholly to putt him self into his hands: Off which desired occasion the holy man taking hould, he beganne with a litle more seuetitie to curbe his depraued manners, to cutt off all his boyish actions, and to admitt nothing worthie reprehension in him, which was not sharply reuenged both with words, and stripes. Whereby it came to passe, that he who be­fore was on the brinke readie to tumble into a precipice of vice, was brought to the firme land of religious, and regular obseruance, whereon he kept sure footing, to the hower of his death, which fol­lowed shortly after. During the time of his last sicknes, S. ANSELME wayted him self vpon him, and after his death, eyther sayd or caused (when he could not) a masse to be sayd euerie day for the health of his soule the space of a whole yeare, and by his meanes, manie other seruants of God did the like. A good example for all Superiours to learne how to carrie them selues in winning, and correcting the so­metimes turbulent spirits of their subiects, how to deale with their sick, and lastly how they ought to pray for those that die vnder their A good les [...]o [...] for Superiours charge.

VI. HE SHEWED noe lesse charitie towards an other monke, gray in old age, but greene in vertue, who by the instigation of the deuil, was grieuously incēsed against the holy prelat, soe that he could not affoor him a good word, or looke. This poore monk happened to fall sick, and coming to such extremity, that he expected nothing but death, he seemed to behould two cruell wolues, which tooke him about the neck, and endeauoured to strangle him; whereat he roared & cried out soe dreadfully, that S. ANSELME, then busied in the cloi­ster, ranne towards the Infirmarie, to know the matter, and entring See the vertue of the [...]oly Crosse. into the chamber, made the signe of the holy crosse vppon the sick man, saying: In nomine patris & filij & spiritus Sancti: and straight he was quiet, confessing that whē ANSELME made the signe of the Crosse, he saw, as it were a fierie launce shott out of his mouth, which feared [Page 387] away those vglie wolues that sought to deuoure him. Then being exhorted to penance for his sinnes, he confessed, and was absolued by S. ANSELM, who allsoe foretould him the hower of his death: all that heard, & saw what passed being greatly edified, with soe great charitie of the Sainct, & amazed at the wonderfull light of his soule. The like bountie and goodnes shined in him at other times in his great care towards the sick, visiting, cōforting, reioycing, & with his owne hands seruing them, and doeing the part not only of a true Father but allsoe of a most charitable Mother amongst thē. Soe that in all their necessities, the monks had recourse vnto him with as great confidence, as the child hath in his mother; laying open before him all the secret passions and wounds of their soules, which he like an holy Phisitian (because he knew the roote and origine of them all) easyly cured. This vnion of the parts of the bodie with their head, & subiects with their superiour, is the Nurse, and Soule of all religion.

VII. HE willingly employed him self in bringing vp yong youth of Yong gen­tlemen brought vp in mona­sterics. a middle age, iudging his paines therein, to be soe much the more profitable, as that age (like vnto soft wax) was apt to receiue, & con­serue all the lineaments of vertue imprinted therein. It was a venera­ble custom in those times to nourish and bring vp Gentlemens son­nes of the best sort in Monasteries of S. BENEDICTS order, ether to become Religious, yf they were soe addicted, or by that vertuons education, to make them more capable in their riper yeares, to pro­fitt the cōmon wealth. An abbott, in great reputation of holy life, came one day to vistt S. ANSELME, & discoursing with him of the go­uernment of monasteries began greatly to cōplaine of the libertie & disobedience of the yong gentlemen vnder his charge: and that he watched night and day ouer them, and made their faults to be seue­rely whipt and chastised, and yet, it seemed, that the more he kept them vnder, the worse and more incorrigible they grew. And what (sayd S. ANSELME) became of these children when their were at age, or what profitt reaped you out of all this whipping and scour­ging? Gentlenes most requi­site in brin­ging vp youth. For the most part (replied the Abbott) they grow to be great ignorant Dolts. Then S. ANSELME. This manner of education of youth seemeth to me most vncertaine, for euē as yf one who by hed­ging in of yong plants, doth soe choake them vp with thornes, that they can nether grow, nor putt forth their boughs, will consequently [Page 388] bring noe fruict, nor profitt: soe in the nourishment of children who are rich, and delicate plants, to bring them to good one must vse a fatherly loue towards them, giuing them a gentle, & discrete li­bertie, and not allwaies making them slaues with feares, threat­nings, and stripes. Because, when they doe not acknowledge and find in their tutours and masters that guide them, the cordiall affection and loue of a father, they thinke whatsoeuer is sayd, or done to them proceeds out of chollar, hatred, and malice. And as they grow in age, they grow allsoe in a greater defiance of their masters, of whom they haue as great horrour, as a theefe of his executioner. Rules for superiours in their gouern­ment. In fine, S. ANSELME taught the ABBOTT, that true gouernment ought to know how to temper sweet with sower, clemencie with seueritie, and to cure wounds not only with the sharpnes of wine which clo­seth vp, but with the supplenes of oyle allsoe, which softens and opens the soares. For allthough hard bread and crust, be good for those that haue good teeth, yet sucking children cannot eate it. And yf a superiour will guide all his Inferiors the same way, without dis­cerning the different conditions and inclinations of the persons whom he gouerneth, he will certainly committ manie grosse faultes, to the great affliction, and losse of his suiects. The fame of S. Au­selme drawes ma­nie chol­lers.

VIII. S. ANSELME then, inuironed with the glittering beames of excellent vertues, his renowne was carried on the wings of fame ouer all Normandie, through France, into Flanders, and England; soe that manie learned and pious men, came to the monasterie where he was Prior, to range them selues into the spirituall warrefare, vn­der the colours of S. BENEDICT, striuing to receaue the habitt at his hands, and to liue vnder his correction, and discipline. Neuertheles, he was soe prudent & reserued, that he neuer sollicited anie man to giue him self to God rather in his monasterie, then in anie other, but all waies left it to their choise, to enter into what Conuent they best liked; to the end that yf afterwards they happened to repent they should haue noe iust occasion to murmure, or coplaine against him. But they came soe thick of their owne accord that the Abbey of Bec, was in a short time wōderfully encreased in tēporall, & spirituall goods, of manie good religious monks; and Abbott Herluine being dead, ANSELME, by the common suffrages of all the Conuent, was chosen to succeed in his place; allbeit he laboured with [Page 389] prayers and teares against it, throwing him self prostrate at the feete of the monks, and coniuring them by the deare passion of our lord ISSVS CHRIST, not to charge his weake shoulders with such a weigh­tie He is cho­sen Abbot of Bec. burden. In fine, when all his resistance did but encrease their im­portunitie, he yeelded, sincesuch he perceaued was the will of God. Being therefore made Abbott, he gouerned the monasterie with such holy prudence, and prudent holines, that this new encrease of dignitie, was in him, as a discouerie of a new mine of shining vertues whose beames amazed all behoulders.

IX AT that time, there were manie possessions in England belon­ging He cometh into En­gland to the Abbey of Bec, to visitt which sainct ANSELME went ouer into England. At Canturbury (where LANFRANCK his old Master was Archbishop) he was with wonderfull great honour receiued by the Benedictin monks of that citie which he no lesse ingeniously then elegantly putt off, affirming the greater honour, and greater affe­ction of charitie, to reside in them that performed it, then in him to See his great hu­militie. whom it was performed. Because he, who vnworthyly receiued that vndeserued dutie, could expect for it noe reward from God. For what (said he) can be due to me from God in that anie one shewes loue towards me? But to them from whō this loue proceeds, he oweth a reward for their pious affection, and he will not fayle to lay vp store of grace for them. But the more he sought to auoyde honour, the more still was throwne vppon him: when poeple of all orders, sexes, and conditions, striued to doe him the highest ho­nours they could, and amongst the rest, King William the Conque­rour, who albeit otherwise a Norman of a fierce and barbarous na­ture, yet towards sainct ANSELME, beyond all mens expe­ctation, he behaued himself with an vnaccustomed courtesie and kindnes, to the great admiration of all. But the Sainct quickly wearied with these honours, thought his iourney in nothing soe well spent, as in the sight and conference he had of his old Master LANFRANCK the Archbishop, between whom discoursing of manie graue affayres, fell, at this time, that famous disputation (mentioned in his life) of S. ELPHEGVS the Martir. Afterwards, he returned a­gaine to his Monasterie, and gouerned the same the space of fifteene yeares, with all vertue belonging to a good prelate. In the meane time William Conquerour died, leauing the crowne to his [Page 390] onne William Rufus, who by all indirect waies possible, sought to oppresse and empouerish the Clergie and Church, thereby to satis­fie his owne vnbridled couetousnes, and with their gould to giue a glorious outside to his owne wickednes. Wherevppon S. ANSELME, at the earnest entreatie of the nobles, resolued to come againe into England. But in the meane time Lanfrank being dead a rumour arose of the aduancing of ANSELME to the Archiepiscopall sea of Canturbu­ry; which made him (ô wonderfull contēmpt of honour!) to deferre his iourney for fiue yeares space. How manie be there now adaies that would haue taken poste in this case?

X. COMING at length to Canturbury he was saluted by the Benedi­ctine monks, and others, as their future Prelate, which he tooke soe S. Anselme refuseth the stile of Archbi­shop heynously, that the next day, he departed before the sunne was guiltie of his being in towne, allbeit it were the verie feast of the Natiuitie of our Ladie, refusing to be wonne by anie prayers, to ce­lebrate there that solemnitie. Thence he went to King William and dealt freely with him to amend his manner of life, to order the common wealth in better fashion, as well in Ecclesiasticall, as tem­porall affayres, telling him withall, what an ill opinion of his bad life was blowne ouer the world. But the king was deafe to all good counsell; till falling into a grieuoussicknes, he beganne to make him remember him self, and hearken a litle more to his pious per­swasions. His is cho­sen Arch­bishop of Cauturbu­ry. In the meane time being putt in mind that the sea of Can­turburie was void of a Pilot, & that that Mother-Church of England had manie yeares been a widdow, he proclaimed ANSELME to be the most worthie of that dignitie, that the disciple might succeed his master. And this his proposition was presently accepted with the common consent, and applause of the Benedictin monks of Cantur­bury (vnto whom the election of the Archbishop belonged) and the generall liking of the poeple. Only ANSELME with might and ma­ine resisted this election, and obstinately refused to vndertake the dignitie, with teares alleadging manie reasons, and excuses, he made manie protestations that it was a verie foolish and ouerthwart pro­ceeding to ioyne to the plough an ould sheepe yoakt with an vnta­med bull, (by the bull meaning king William) But all in vaine, for the pastorall staffe was forcibly thrust into his hands, him self violently drawne into the next Church was proclaymed Archbishop, and his [Page 391] election witnessed with manie ioyfull acclamations, and singing of the himme Te Deum Laudamus &c. And now the day of his conse­cration and installation at Canturbury was prefixed to the fourth of December, when by the opening of the bible this Sentence fell to S. ANSELMES lott. Homo quidam fecit caenam magnam, & vocanit mul­tos &c.

XI. AT THE first King William shewed goodwill and friendship Note the couetous­nes of the king. towards S. ANSELME, in hope that being now aduanced to soe great dignitie, he would bestow some worthie present vppon him: but as soone as he perceaued that ANSELME had noe such meaning, he be­ganne to repent him self of this one, allbeit a rare, good deed, and being wholly giuen by hooke or by crooke (as they say) to gett mo­ney, he not soe required as exacted a friendly guift of a thousand pound sterling for a gratuitie for his aduancement to the Archbisho­prick. But saint ANSELME hating that vnroyall couetousnes in the King, was determined not to send him a pennie. Till swayed by the counsell of manie friends, lest he should greatly exasperate the king to the greater detriment of the whole English Church, he sent him fiue hundred pound promising to gratifie his Maiestie more largely when occasion serued. William vtterly refused to accept that present as too slender and sparing a reward for a king. Whereat S. ANSEL­ME greatly reioyced, because by this meanes he cleered him self frō all staine of honour, which for this fact malice might haue layd to King Wil­liam moo­ued against S. Anselme his charge. And without anie delay he distributed that whole sum­me of money to the poore. Afterwards, he began to call vppon the King to haue a Councell assembled for the reforming of the Clergie and establishing of Ecclesiasticall discipline in the Church. But his good intētions receiued a sharpe rebuke from the king, who sought by all meanes to breake all the liberties of the Church, in persecu­ting the Clergie, inuading the Ecclesiasticall goods, and other such outrages, that the holy man could nether hinder his vniust procee­dings, noe execute his function in peace. Soe that allbeit he were wholely disposed to stand strongly in defence of the truth, and the freedom of the Church, yet then he iudged it more expedient for the auoyding of greater inconuenience (which euen the other bis­hops, and countrey, backed with the authoritie and power of the King might cause) to absent him self a while out of England, ima­gining [Page 392] that to be the safest way both to appease the enraged king and qualifie the tempest of the countrey.

XII. THEREFORE he made a supplication to the king to permitte him to goe to Rome to obtaine from Pope Urban the second, the Pall due vnto his archiepiscopall seate. The king, amazed at this demaund, answered that noe man in his kingdom should acknow­ledge anie Pope of Rome without his consent, and that he him self was after a fashion Pope within his owne dominiōs. Which answere infinitly afflicted the holy archbishop, who to extinguish this sparke of infernall fier before it went anie further, assembled a Councell He sum­moneth a Councell of the Bishops, Abbbots, and peeres of the realme, wherein hauing declared the kings mind, the consequence and importance of the matter, he found the greatest part of the bishops inclined to sub­scribe to the Princes will: (soe great is the power of flatterie and ambition, ioyned with the authoritie of a furious, and resolute king:) for they cried out alowd that he was a person impious, and rebellious to the king and state, whosoeuer would attempt to maintaine anie obedience in England to be due to anie but king William alone, as well in Ecclesiasticall, as temporall matters; rob­bing the Pope hereby of his primacie and soueraigne power ouer all the Catholick Church. S. ANSELME seeing this vnlawfull procee­ding, and that he could not resist against soe horrible a streame, desired leaue of the king to leaue the kingdom, and goe to Rome; but he receiued diuers times a bitter deniall. The king allwaies affirming that he would hould him as an enemie to his crowne and the common wealth, yf the attempted that iourney. And that at his first installement in the Archbishoprick he had bound him self by oath to obserue the lawes, and customs of the countrey which forbid goeing Rome without the kings leaue. The holy man answered; that it was not the part of a Christian prince to cutt of anie He appea­leth to the Pope appellation to the Roman sea of PETER: and that he had en­gaged him self to the obseruance of noe other lawes then what stood with the honour of God, and good reason. When the King, and his replied; that there had been no mention made eyther of God or Goodnes. To which ANSELME. O goodly doeings! (sayd he) that shunne the name of God or Goodnes. Which words putt all his aduersaries to silence [Page 393] for that time. But the kings anger and hatred against him encrea­sed more and more euerie day; which allso soe terrified manie of the other bishops, that they began openly to forsake their Me­tropolitan, and not to defend his cause: although in their hearts they did not vtterly disproue it.

XIII. IN the meane time sainct ANSELME constantly tould the king that notwithstanding all this opposition, he would goe to Rome and before his departure (prouided that he king would not reiect it) he promised to giue him his benediction, which done, he went to Canturbury, where after one dayes stay, hauing with an oration He goeth to Rome like a pil­grim. full of pietie and affection exhorted his monks to follow the traine of vertue, and to putt on the armour of constancie and patience a­gainst the imminent dangers that threatned to follow, he putt on the habitt of a pilgrim, to the great grief of all his friends, and espe­cially of the monks of Canturbury, and went to take shipping at Do­uer; and with him went Eadmerus a Benedictin monk of Canturbury who writt his life. They passed ouer into France, & to Lions where S. ANSELME was entertayned with wonderfull magnificence and res­pect by Hugue Archbishop of the place. The Pope vnderstāding of his being there, sent for him to come to Rome with all speed. Where he was honoured by all the court, and soe highly praysed by the Pope in presence of the Cardinalls, and Lords of Rome, for his great learning, and pietie, that the holy man much confounded and ashamed therewith, durst not lift vp his eyes before the com­panie, which humilitie made them all iudge him to be an other manner of man in the presence of allmightie God then he appea­red by his outside. Then he sollicited the Pope in nothing more, then to gett leaue to lay aside his Episcopall dignitie, for the loue of a priuate life. But Pope Vrban would by no meanes graunt his request, but aduised him to seiourne a while in a monasterie of Benedictine Monks neere the cittie of Capna; where by the prayers of Sainct ANSELME a liuely fountaine of water sprung out of a hard rock, which is cal­led, A foūtaine out of a Rock by his prayers. the Bishop of Canturburys Well, and the water cured manie diseases.

XIV. S. ANSELME was present, by the commaund of the Pope, in the Councell of Bar, where he made shew of his knowledge [Page 394] and prudence in the conuincing of the Greeks, & prouing the holy Ghost to proceed from the father, and the sonne, as from one Be­ginning. And mention being made in this Councell of king William and of his outrages committed against ANSELME, and the Church, his crimes appeared soe heynous, that all proclaymed him worthie to be cutt off from the Church, by the sentence of excommunica­tion, had not ANSELME interposed him self, and falling on his knees, The won­derfull hu­militie, & meeknes of S. Anselme. craued a time of respite, which with difficultie he obtained. And this his meekenes, and humblenes of mind gayned him a wonderfull great fauour amongst them all. The Pope being returned to Rome is mett by an embassadour from king William, to defend the Kings cause against ANSELME, who but newly came from playing the part of an aduocate in his behalf. And by the importunitie of this em­bassadour the cause was committed to be heard in a Councell held at Rome; where S. ANSELME him self was present, and certaine seate was allotted to him, and his successors of Canturbury, if anie should afterwards chaunce to be present in a Roman Councell. And here the Pope by the consent of all the Prelates, thundered an excom­munication against all lay persons (for manie princes at that time were ouer busie in those affayres) that intruded them selues in chal­lenging the inuestitures of bishopricks, and against all Ecclesiasticks that receaued them at their hands. This done, ANSELME re­turned to Lions in France, quite hopelesse of coming into England, during the raigne of King William. Where as he was exercised in his The death o [...] William Rufus. accustomed workes of pietie, and vertue, newes was brought that by the permission of allmightie God, his greatest enemie was rob­bed of his power to hurt him, for king William being on hunting the second of August, in the midst of his game was shott through the heart with an arrow, which gaue a miserable end to his misera­ble life. It is not credible how greatly S. ANSELME was afflicted with this newes, and cheefly at the manner thereof, professing with manie sighs, and teares, that he would willingly haue redeemed his vnhap­pie death, with the losse of his owne life.

XV. HENRY the first of that name, and brother to William suc­ceeded, who with the great applause of the whole countrey recalled King Hen­ry recal­le [...]h S. An­selme. S ANSELME into England, and endeauoured to gaine his fauour the­reby, promising togeather with allmost all his Lords and Bishops [Page 395] of the realme, that all things should be carried according to his owne liking. But when ANSELME was come, and the king vnder­stoode of the Popes decree made in the sinod of Rome, touching the inuestiture of bishopricks, he was wonderfully enraged, and con­ceaued soe great hatred against S. ANSELME, that vnlesse he would receaue his Archbishoprick, as restored vnto him by his only au­thoritie, there should he noe place for him in the kingdome. And this ANSELME absolutly refused to doe, as being contrarie to the late decree of the Roman Councell. Soe that the matter being tossed and disputed a long time to and fro, the king at length perswaded him to go to Rome togeather with his Embassadours, to gett this act recalled by Pope Pasehall the secōd, who now had succeeded Vrban. S. Ansel. goeth a­gaine to Rome. The holy man, to auoyde greater inconueniences, vndertooke the iourney, foretelling before he went that the Pope would doe no­thing contrarie to the libertie and decrees of the Church. Neuer­thelesse he went, and being arriued at Rome was receaued with farre greater honour and respect then euer before. Then it was hottly disputed at the Lateran, of the kings affayres, and manie reasons brought in by William procuratour of the kings cause, in defence thereof. Who came at length to such a vehemencie and heate in his pleading, that with sharpe & threatning words he affirmed, that the king would rather hazard the losse of his whole kingdom, then be depriued of this right. Nether would I (answered the pope) graunt him this power allthough it were to saue my owne life. And with this resolution he dismissed the Embassadours, who returned towards England. But by the way, the fornamed William declared by the kings commaund vnto S. ANSELME, that he must cease from entring more into England, vnlesse he were resolued to obey the Kings will. Soe that sainct ANSELME diuerted to his ould lodging at Lions, where he remayned the space of a yeare and fower moneths.

XVI. IN the meane time king Henry seazed on all the goods and lands belonging to the Archbishoprick, and challenged them for his owne vse. When the Pope seeing noe hope of reconciling the King to S. ANSELME; purposed by excommunication to cutt him off from the communion of the Church Which resolution of his being made knowne to the king touched him to the quick, and [Page 396] made him begin more exactly to take saint ANSELME cause into his consideration. And at length he called him to him out off France into Normandie, where they came to a parely, at the Abbey of Bec: In which the King patiently taking the holy Archbishops reprehen­sion for manie abuses, promised a future amendment, and neuer more to disturbe the peace or exact anie fruits belonging to the Church, or Churchmen; and herevppon he receaued S. ANSELME into his fauour and sent him in peace to his Archbishoprick, to the great contentment and enioy of the whole Kingdome. Here now we may see of what power the constancie of a good Prelats is, when purely and sincerely for the only loue and seruice of God, they de­fend the authoritie of the Church, without anie pretence of tempo­rall respects by flattering kings in their iniustice, and suffering them selues to be carried away with the wind of wordly fauour. We may see allsoe the great grace which God shewed to kings that res­pect his Church & Church-men, for as soone as King Henry had sub­mitted him self, our Lord gaue him a noble victorie against his Brother Robert, by meanes whereof he gott the Seigniorie of the Dukedom of Normandy. Of which victory he presently made sainct ANSELME acquainted by letters, ending thus. Werefore Venerable fa­ther W [...]ll. Malm. l. 1. de Pōt. (sayd he) humbly and deuoutly prostrate at the feete of thy sainctitie: J beseech thee to pray vnto the supreme iudge, by whose will and arbitremēt J haue gayned this glorious and profitable triumph, that it be not to my domage and detriment, but for a beginning of good works and the seruice of God, to settle and confirme the state of Gods-holy Church in peace, and tranquillitie, that from hence forth it may liue free, and not be shaken with the tempest of warres.

XVII. AFTER the kings returne out of Norman-die, a famous Sy­nod A sinod held at London. was held at London in which in presence of S. ANSELME, and all the bishops & Abbots of England, he resigned all the power (which hitherunto he had vsurped in creating, & ordayning bishops) to the Pope and Clergie. S. ANSELME therefore being installed againe in his Church, in great peace and quietnes, performed the part of a most holy and vigilant pastour the space of about three yeares; S. Anselme falleth sick when loaden with old age, labours and merits he fell into a great sicknes, and specially in his stomake, which made him abhorre all sustenance, till by little and litle the forces of his bodie being ex­hausted, [Page 397] he fainted. And when the infirmitie of his bodie was such that it would not suffer him to goe to the Church, notwithstanding he was carried thither euery day in a chayre, to be present at the sacred misteries of the masse, whereunto he bore a singular great deuotion, pierie, and reuerence. At length, seeing him self to draw neere his end, he receiued the holy sacraments of the Church, and gaue his benediction no the assistance humbly recommending the king, queene, and all the whole Kingdom to Gods holy pro­tection: and lying on a hayre-cloath strewed with ashes (according to the pious custom of those times) he rend r [...]d, vp his blessed soule to the euerlasting possession of all blessednes; on wensday morning His happie death. before Easter, the one and twentith day of Aprill, in the yeare of our Lord 1109. the sixteenth since he was made bishop, and the threescore and sixt of his age. He was buried in great solemni­tie, and lamented by his Church, and the whole Kingdom of En­gland, which lost a Master, a Father, and a Pastour soe holy, soe wise soe couragious, and soe venerable.

XVIII. Our Lord ennobled this glorious Sainct with manie mira­cles His wonderfull mira­cles. both during his life, and after his death. 1. As he was one night at his prayers, he was seene to be encompassed round about with the brightnes of a heauenly splendour. 2. One that dranke only of the water in which he had washed his hands, was cured of a most pitti­full leaprosie that raygned all ouer his bodie. 3. By the signe of the crosse he quenched a mightie fier that was readie to deuoure the chamber where he [...]ay. 4. One of his religious most cruelly posses­sed with the deuill, was cured only by the well-wishes of S. ANSEL­ME. 5. Manie diseased persons were cured by his prayers, or eating only the reliques of his dinner. 6. The shipp which carried S. AN­SELME, allbeit a boord brake out of it, yet the water was miracu­lously hindered from entring. 7. At his death, the balsome which anoynted his bodie, like vnto the flower of Holy, was miracu­lously encreased. 8. And the stone, in which his bodie was to be buried being not of sufficient capacitie to receaue it, was sud­dainly enlarged without humane helpe, to the great admira­tion of the beholders. Manie other miracles we omitt; But the greatest miracle that euer God wrought by saint ANSELME was saint ANSELME himself, and his life, more diuine then humane. He [Page 398] writt manie admirable workes, with which he enriched the Catho­lick Church, and with the singular reach of his vnderstanding, and doctrine, and a peculiar guift from heauen, he gathered togeather His admi­rable wri­tings. the subtilitie and excellence of manie Theologicall questions, seasoned with the sweetnes of pietie, and deuotion. Of whom a graue authour Trithemius in his worke of the famous men of S BENEDICTS order sayth. That he was a man well acquinted in holy scripture, and the learnede [...]st of his time in humane doctrine, most holy in i [...] life, and con [...] ­tion, most deuout in his soule, eloquent in his discourse and full of effi [...] [...] his workes. He was of an angelicall countenance, of a graue gate, of an exemplar life, continuall in the studie of holy scriptures, and one in whom lay hid a goulden mine of vertues, and goodnes. He was mirrour of Prelates, the glorie of his countrey, a pillar of Gods Church, and a bright ornament of the Benedictine familie; and he is one of the fower renowned Doctours of the same order that haue written in prayse and defence of the B. Virgin, and consequently are The Bene­dictine Do­ctours of our B. La­die. stiled and called by the name of the fower Doctours of our Lady, the other three are S. HILDEPHONSE Archbishop of Siuill in Spaine, B. RVPERT Abbott of Twy in Germanie and S. BERNARD Abbott of Clareuall in France. And our S. ANSELME second to none of the rest, was the first that caused the feast of our Ladies immaculate Concep­tion to be celebrated in the Church the seauenth of December, when he had learned, by the reuelation of an other Benedictin monk, from the same Virgin, that such was her will and pleasure. God of his infinite mercie make vs partakers of his glorious meritts. Amen. His life wee haue gathered out of Eadmer a monk of Canturbury and the companion of all his troubles, and Edmond monk of the same place, who ad­ded a treatise of the discord between S. ANSELME and the two vnruly Kings. William Malmesbury. de Pont. lib. 1. the Roman martirologe, Baro­nius tom. 11. an. 1109. and innumerable others doe highly speake his prayses.

The life of saint MELLITVS Bishop and confessor of the holy order of saint BENEDICT.
APR. 24. Out of venerable Bede.

AMONGST the holy Benedictine Monks which S. GREGORY Pope of Rome sent into England to supplie the want of Prea­thers in soe great an haruest, and to helpe S. AVGVSTINE and his fel­lowe-Benedictins in the conuersiō of that Kingdom, MELLITVS an ab­bott of the same order was the first and chiefest. Whom about three yeares after his arriuall S. AVGVSTIN Archbishop of Canturbury made Bishop of London the principall head cittie of the East-Angles, where Sebert nephew to Ethelbert King of Kent kept his royall Mellitus first bis­hop of London. Court, allbeit he were vnder the power of Ethelbert, whose autho­ritie ouer the English stretched to the riuer Humber. But when this prouince by the industrious preaching and labour of saint MELLI­TVS had receaued the Christian fayth, King Ethelbert built that fa­mous Church of saint PAVL the Apostle within the walls of London for the Episcopall seate of Mellitvs, and his successours. But how greatly this holy man was beloued of God, and the whole court of heauen, manifestly appeareth in the consecration of the Church of Westminster, which office of his S. PETER the Apostle performed for Bishop MELLITVS, with his owne hands; as may be seene more at large in the life of S. EDWARD the fist of Ianuary. S. AVGVSTIN being dead, Mellitvs bishop of London went to Rome to cōsult Pope Boni­ [...]ace the fourth touching manie necessarie affayres of the English Church. And namely for the good establishment of the new-built Baron. an 610. monasterie of Westminster, as allso to know whether the consecra­tion of a Church performed in the aforesayd manner, were valid. The Pope in a Synod held at Rome, in which S. MELLITVS had a place, ordayned manie lawes for the peace of the Benedictine mōks, and conseruation of monasticall discipline; and decreed against the enuious, that monks were the fittest instruments in Gods Church for Apostolicall functions: which decrees Mellitvs brought with him into England for the confirmation and establishment of the Be­nedictine order and Mission in that countrey.

[Page 400] II. BVT the death of the two good Kings Ethelbert, and Seb [...], was cause of great domage to the tenden beginnings of that new See in S. Laurence 2. of Febr. Church; for the three sonnes of King Sebert (who during the time of their father dissembled a litle in religion for feare of him) fell after his death to flatt Idolatrie, and gaue licence to all their subiects to doe the like. And when they saw the holy bishop MELLITVS (hauing celebrated the sacred solemnities of Masse) giue the Eucharist to the poeple; Why (sayd they swelling with Looke, prorestant our first Apo­les sayd masse. a barbarous foolishnes) doest thou not giue vs the white bread, which thou didest giue to our father Saba (soe they were wont to call him) and doest yet giue to manie of the poeple? Yf you will be washed (answeared MELLITVS) in the same sacred font as your father was, you may be partakers of the holy bread as well as the but yf you contemne the Bath of life, you can by noe meanes receaue the Bread of life. But they refused to enter into the font of baptisme, as a thing vnnecessarie, but de­sired earnestly to eate of the sacred bread. Till at length, when the holy mans perswasions could not draw them from this s [...]nd request, they banished him out of their Prouince, because he S. Mellitus Banished from his Bishoprick would not giue them blessed Sacrament of aultar before haptisme. Veryly I am of opinion (to my great grief) that at this present our Protestant-Bishops haue soe litle respect to that which they call the Lords Supper, that rather then be forced with their wiues to leaue their bishopricks, they would giue their sacrament of bread to a — soe farr (alas) they are fallen from the religion of our first Apostles.

III. SAINT MELLITVS went to Canturbury to consult S. LAVRENCE and IVSTVS the other bishops, what was to bee done in these trou­bles. And finding no other meanes nor hopes of redresse, MELLITVS and IVSTVS went ouer into France, to expect the calme of this tem­pestuous See in S. Lau. 2. Febr. motion. Till Edbald King of Kent renouncing his Ido­latrie, and baptised by saint LAVRENCE Archbishop of Carturbury, recalled the two bishops out of France, and restored IVSTVS to his seat of Rochester; but the Londoners refused to receaue their bishop Mellitus, ouer whom Edbald had not such absolute and coercitiue power, that he could force them to it, as his father could. In the meane time, Saint LAVRENCE departing this life, MELLITVS [Page 401] succeeded in the sea of Canturbury, whence he cast forth the bright beames of his vertue, fayth, and learning ouer all England, with which noble ornaments he greatly ennobled the countrey, and He is made Archbis­hop of Canturbu­ry. excelled the nobilitie of his birth and parcentage, which was verie honorable. In bodie he was wonderfull weake, and sickly, spe­cially being greeuously afflicted with the gout: but most sound in mind, cherefully despising all terrene things, and still aspi­ring to the loue, and possession of the Kingdom of heauen. And here I will relate one example of his excellent vertue, and confidence in allmightie God, which may serue as a witnesse of his other noble vertues.

IV. A MIGHTIE fier happened to make hauock in the cittie of Canturbury which soe furiously deuoured whole streets as it went, that noe force of water could quench the rage of that vn­resistable element. And now with great violence it drew neere to the place where the holy Bishop was: who would not giue way to those deuouring flames, but trusting in the diuine goodnes He quen­cheth a great fier by his prayers. where humane help was wanting, caused him self to be car­ried thither, where the fier came on with greatest violence. Which done, this weake man began with his prayers to driue that away, against which the force of manie strong labouring hands could not preuayle. And suddenly as yf he had been the moderatour, and ruler of the winds, the wind that blew out of the south and was as the bellowes of those flames, chainged into the North, and soe constray­ned that outragious element to forsake the food which soe eagerly it hunted after, and turned it back to feed on its owne ruines; where­by the cittie was freed from the imminent perill of ruine; and the citizens, ascribed the preseruation of them selues, and their fortunes to their holy Archbishop MELLITVS. who because he ve­hemently boyled with the fier of diuine loue, and was wont by his often prayers and exhortations to driue away the stormes of the ayrie powers from hurting him and his, he was found worthie, to whom God gaue power to preuayle against the forces of the fiers, and winds of this world. At length, when this Blessed Archbishop (whom Trithemius a graue authour in his worke of the famous men of saint BENEDICTS order, calls, a man of most holy life, a lib. 3. cap. 56. & lib. 4. cap. 50. contemner of the world, a louer of God, the rule of all religion, and a [Page 402] mirrour of vertue) had gouerned the Sea of Canturbury the space of fiue yeares, he left this mortall life to [...]ke his long desired iourney to the immortall; the foure and twentith day of Aprill, in the yeare of our Lord, 624. He was buried in the Benedictin Monasterie of saint PETER and saint PAVL in Canturbury by his predecessours. And in his Epitaph is made mention of the foresayd miracle of the fier, in these two verses, speaking to him.

His life we haue gathered chiefly out of saint Bede de gest. Ang. lib. 1. cap. 29. & lib. 2. cap. 3. 4. & sequ. Ealred, abbot of Rhienall, Baronius tom. 8. Mal­mesbury de pont l. 2. the Roman Martirologe, Nicholas Harpsfield see 7. cap. 7. Vsuard, Ado, Arnold wion, and others make honourable mention of hi [...].

The life of S. EGBERT Priest, and monke of the holy order of saintBENEDICT,
APR. 24. Out of Venera­ble Bede.

THE admirable master of humilitie, and most zealous aduan­cer of Christs Ghospell saint EGBERT, borne of a noble race of English parents in the south parts of England, spent the flower of his youth in the monastery of Lindisfarne, or Holy-Iland. In which schoole of vertue he receaued the first grounds of true religion vnder the holy Rule of saint BENEDICT, which afterwards he communicated to other places, to the great honour, and en­crease of the Benedictin order. It was the manner in those dayes of manie of our English, to goe ouer into Ireland, there to ap­ply them selues in a more strict course of holy meditation, wat­ching, fasting, and prayer, and other exercises of a monasti­call life. Amongst the rest, holy EGBERT forsaking friends and countrey, went thither, with a feruent desire to pietie, ac­companied He goeth into Ire­land. with an other noble Englishman called Ethelune. And [Page 403] huing togeather in Jreland, in a monasterie called in Irish Rath­melfigi, they were both infected with the plague, which at that time mustered whole troupes of poeple vnder the black ban­ner of death. When holy EGBERT expecting nothing but to be enrolled in the same number of deaths seruants, went one morning out of that mournfull lodging where the sick monks lay expecting their end, into a secret and solitarie place, where sitting downe to entertayne him self with his owne throughts, he beganne to cast vp a strict accompt of his for­mer life, wherein he found manie Items whose remembrance begott such contrition in his heart, that the teares trickling downe his cheekes were worthy witnesses to prooue it excellent. Then in the heate of true deuotion he humbly besought allmigh­tie His petitiō to Allmigh tie God. God to graunt him a litle longer respite in this world, as well to bewaile the sinnes of his youth, as allsoe more abundantly to exercise him self in the workes of religious perfection: vowing wi­thall neuer more to returne into his natiue conntrey of England, but to liue a pilgrim all the dayes of his life. Moreouer, besides his canonicall office he was wont (yf sicknes did not hinder him) He dayly recited Da­uids Psal­ter. to recite euery day the whole psaker of Dauid in honour of allmigh­tie God, and to fast one whole day and a night euery weeke, wi­thout anie food at all. But when his prayers had set a periode to his teares, and his vowes to his prayers, he returned back to his lodging, where he found his fellow Edelhune (that laboured with the same disease) fast asleepe, and he him self layd downe his feeble limmes to recreate them a while with rest. But long he had not reposed, when his companion awaked and looking pitti­fully vppon him; O brother Egbert (sayd he) what hast thou done? I had hoped we should haue gone ioyfully togeather to the King­dom of heauen; but now by thy desire we must be seperated, for know that thy request is graunted. It had been reuealed vnto him in a vision what EGBERTS request was, and that he had had a graunt there of from God.

II. THE night following Edelhune died happily, and EGBERT by a He is mira­culously cured of the plague. speciall fauour of diuine grace recouering his health, afterwards a­dorned his monasticall vocatiō with the dignitie of priesthood, and [...]nnobled that dignitie with worthie actions of vertue, and good [Page 404] life. Allwaies gouerning him self with the rules of perfect humilitie, sweet meeknes, pure continencie, plaine simplicitte, & candid inno­cencie. His example of life, his labour in teaching, his authoritie i [...] reprehending, and his liberalitie in bestowing what the charitie of the rich gaue him, was of wonderfull great profitt, and edification to all the countrey, where he liued in voluntarie banishment. And His rigid fasting. to encrease the austeritie of his owne life he added to the vowes a­foresayd to make but one small meale a day throughout all the Lent, which was a little bread, and a poore quantitie of thin [...]e milke, which he did eate cold after it had stoode a whole night, and when the creame or fatter substance thereof was skimmed off. This manner of fasting he obserued like wise fortie dayes before Christmas, and as manie more after Whitsuntide. Vppon these well setled foundations, and grounds of holines, in a short time saint EGBERT raysed a spirituall building of vertues to the very height of monasticall perfection, soe that the same of his sainctitie was blowne into the royall eares of Kings, of whom some much admired and honoured the man, others that contemned his pious admonitions felt the heauie punishment of him, that all­waies defends the cause of his true seruants: as appeares by that which venerable BEDE recounts of Egfrid King of the Nor­thumbers. Who in the yeare of CHRIST. 684. hauing sent an De gest. Angl. 4 cap. 26. armie into Jreland which lamentably destroyed that innocent countrey, was disswaded from that bloudie enterprise by the meanes and entreaties of saint EGBERT, but contemning to yield to his pious admotions, he receaued his punishment, being miserably slaine the yeare following, among his fatall enemies the Picts.

III. BVT this holy man, hauing spent manie yeares in a He resol­ueth to preach in Germanie. rigorous monasticall life, being desirous to labour not only for him self, but for the good of manie other soules, resolued to preach the fayth of CHRIST to those that liued in the blindnes of Idolatrie, vnder the bondage and slauerie of the deuill. Of this kind he vnderstood manie to be in Germanie, whence the English or Saxons had their beginning; and therefore to them he prepared him self to announce the glad tidings of the Ghos­pell. Or yf he could reape noe profitt thereby, he determined [Page 405] to goe in Pilgrimage to Rome to visitt the sacred shrines of the Apostles. But in all these pious intentions he was hindered by the speciall prouidence of allmightie God, who had otherwise disposed of him. For hauing made choice of men sufficient both in vertue and learning to accompanie him in that holy enterprise, and all things being prepared for their sea-voyage, sainct BOISILL, in times past Abbot of the Benedictin mo­nasterie of Mailros in England, appeared to an other monk, and commaunded him to bid EGBEGT to desist from that designe, He is mira­culously hindred from his enterprise for that it was not the will of allmightie God that he should pro­ceed therein, because he was ordayned to instruct, and reforme the monasterie founded by Sainct COLVMBE in the Isle of Hay. EGBERT aduertised of this vision, commaunded it to be kept close, fea­ring lest it was but an illusion of the deuill, that endeauou­red to hinder his good resolution. But considering more exa­ctly of the matter, he felt in him self a secret feare that tould him it might be true. Notwithstanding, he ceased not to fur­ther his intended voyage towards Germanie. But within a few daies sainct BOYSILL againe appeared to the same monk after mattins; and sharply reprehended him for his flacknes in full­filling his commaund: And therefore now (sayd he) goe tell EGBERT againe, that will he nill he, he must goe to the Monasterie of sainct COLVMBE, because their plough goes not straight: and he must reduce them to the right way. EG­BERT hearing this second replie, againe commaunded the monk to keepe it secret. And howbeit he were allmost certaine of the truth of the vision, yet such was his conceipt of his foretaken re­solution, and soe great was his zeale to gaine soules to God, that togeather with his fellowes prepared, he aduentured to begin his iourney. When hauing expected some daies at sea to haue a [...]ind blow with their desires, there arose one night a cruell tempest, which rudely tost them on that floting element, till with the losse of some part of their lading, they were forced to returne, and desist from that aduenture. But whatsoeuer belonged to sainct EGBERT and his fellowes was saued. And he (as it were alluding to that saying of the holy Prophete Jonas, because for my sake this tempest happeneth) withdrew him self from [Page 406] that voyage, and resolued to stay at home. But one of his fellowes Wigbert by name (of whom we will speake the twelfth of August) went into Frisia, where hauing preached two yeares without reaping anie profitt, he returned back into Jreland.

IV But Sainct EGBERT perceauing that himself was detayned frō preaching the fayth of CHRIST amongst the Paynims, to profitt the Church other waies, and that Wigbert had spent his labour in vaine amongst them, he attempted againe to send a mission of vertuous and industrious men to preach the ghospell in the same countrey. And to this end he chose out of diuers monasteries twelue learned and deuout English Benedi [...]tin monks, the chiefest whereof was the Egbert sē ­deth 12. Benedict­ctines into Germani. worthy S. WILLIBRORD (of whom see the seauenth of Nouember) and these he sent into lower Germanie, by whose pious endeauours (as more largely shall be shewed in their liues) most part of those countreies were reduced out of the blindnes of Idolatrie to the grace of CHRISTS Ghospell. And some of these apostolicall men (which greatlie redounds to the prayse of Sainct EGBERT) were his schollers, bred, and brought vp to that eminent calling, with the sweet milk of his learning, vertue, and discipline. Afterward in the yeare of our Lord 716. sainct EGBERT following the diuine o­racle sent from heauen went to S. COLV [...]BS monasterie in the Isle of Hay, on the west side of Scotland, where the monks receaued him with honour and reuerence well becoming the worth of soe holy a man. These monks erred in the obseruation of Easter and the Ec­clesiasticall He refor­meth the Monks of the Iland Hay. tonsure then vsed in the Catholick Church. But sainct EGBERT being a most sweet master of all truth in vertue, and reli­gion, and one whose actions were the execution of his owne cō ­maunds and lessons, was most willingly heard of them all, till by his pious adonitions & exemplar life, he drew them from the inue­terate traditiō of their forefathers, to obserue the Catholick Easter and to weare their hayre shauen in forme of a crowne. And at the very same time, by the meanes of S. EGBERT those monks receaued the holy rule of S. BENEDICT, which they obserued euer after. He remayned the space of thirteene yeares in the same monasterie which with the beames of a new grace of the Ecclesiasticall disci­pline, and the societie, and peace of CHRIST, he had consecrated to his honour. At length, vpon Easter day it self whē he had celebrated [Page 407] the solemnities of masse, in memorie of our Lords glorious resurre­ction, he departed out of the sepulcher, of the flesh to rise to the ne­uer dying glorie of Paradise; and to see him face to face in heauen whom in the morning he had receaued vnder the formes of bread and wine in the sacrament. He died the 24. of Aprill in the yeare of our Lord 729. and the nineteenth yeare of his age. And surely it was not without the peculiar prouidence of allmightie God, that this venerable mā not only passed out of this world on the feast of Easter, but allsoe on that feast of Easter, which neuer before was celebrated on that day, in those parts. Wherevppon the monks re­ioyced that they were come to the knowledge of the certaine and Catholicke obseruance of Easter, and that they had gayned the pa­tronage of their father in heauen, by whose industrie they were first instructed therein. This life we haue gathered wholly out of S. Bede de gest. l. 3. & 5. Iohn Capgraue hath the same: besides whom Trithemius in his work of the famous men of S Benedicts order, Baronius, Nicolas Harps­field. sec. 8. cap. 4. Molanus, Marcellinus in the life of S. SWIBERT, the Roman Martyrologe, and others doe worthyly speake his pray­ses.

The life of S. ERKENWALD Bishop and Con­fessor of the holy Order of S. BE­NEDICT.
APR. 30. Written by Gotze­linus Mo­rimnensis.

ABOVT the yeare of CHRIST 676. (sayth Baronius) the English Church florished as a Paradise of our Lord, abounding with the lillies Tom. 8 an. 676. of sacred virgins, and the violets of whole troupes of holy Benedictin monks lying hidd in the humble valleies of the cloisters. It was allsoe fraught with an abundance of most worthie Prelats taken from vnder the vaile of mona­sticall humilitie to be i [...]ested with the Pontificall robes of dignitie: a­mong whom sainct ERCONWALD (of whom we now treate) shined as a bright sunne of the Benedictin familie in all vertue and sainctitie. And that nothing might be in him wanting for the making vp of a man in al [Page 408] things most perfect, he was ennobled with the splendour of an illu­strious parentage, being sonne to Offa King of the East-Angles, Who allthough he defiled all his princely nobilitie with his owne perfidiousnes, and impious worshiping of Idols, yet ERKENWALD as the holy branch growne out of a rotten stock, amplified, and ennobled the greatnes of his race, with the true profession of Chri­stian fayth, and the aduantage of manie noble vertues. For being first grounded in Catholick religion in the time that S. AVGVSTIN our Apostle the Benedictin preached in England, he adhered euer after to the doctrine of S. MELLITVS Bishop of London, following his precepts and manner of life in all things. Till at length desiring to draw him self out of the vanities of this world, and wholly to enter into a contemplatiue life in religion, out of his owne royall patrimonie, he built two monasteries, one at Chertsey in Surrey, for him self and other monks, and the second at Berking in Essex, for his sister S. Ethelburg with a conuent of Nunnes, both of the holy order of S. BENEDICT. And soe he made a happie change of his terrene di­gnitie and wealth, to become the holy inheritance of CHRIST and his Church. At Chertsey he putt on the habitt of a Benedictin monke, where his vertues soe answered that monasticall profession, that Theodore Archbishop of Cāturbury moued with the fame thereof, cal­led [...]rconwald made bis­hop of London. him to preside in the bishoprick of London. This Benedictin Ab­bey of Chertsey greatly florished in religion, till the furie of the Da­nes (who spared no religious houses) committed the Church, with the Abbot and monks thereof, to the mercilesse power of the fier. But the incomparable prince King Edgar (whom the peculiar prouidence of allmightie God ordayned the great aduancer of the Benedictin order) not content with the new monasteries which by him self and others he caused to be built in diuerse parts of England, vnlesse he repayred the ould: restored the Abbey of Chertsey to its former splendour, and dignitie, searching out the auncient writings, and Charters, by the testimonie and power whereof, he recalled the goods and possessions that thereun­to belonged, out of the hands of manie noblemen, which eyther by force, or the power of antiquitie, had holden them as their owne rights.

II. BVT let vs returne to sainct ERKENWALD, who now [Page 409] seated in the Episcopall sea of London, soe worthyly dischar­ged himself of that function, that he omitted nothing belonging to the dutie and prayse of an absolute good pastour: being a man of soe great vertue, that his working of manie miracles (the vn­resistable witnesses of holines) deposed him and his seruice to be most acceptable and pleasing to allmigtie God. Being fallen soe Note a strange mi­racle. sick and weake towards the end of his daies that he could not visitt his diocesse to preach and teach to the poeple, but car­ried in a litle waggon, one of the wheeles (and it had but two) it is vncertaine by what chance, happened to fall off the beame, when to the wonderfull great admiration of all the assistants, the waggon went on vppon one wheele, the other side being sustay­ned (by the diuine power of him that wheeles about the frame of this world) for the declaration of the great vertue and holines of the holy bishop that was carried. And herein the ayre seemed to attend this holy man, supplying the want of that wheele; and by the touching of the same waggon, manie sick persons (after the ho­ly mans death) were cured of feauers and other diseases which human skill had giuen vp for incurable. The water allsoe obeyed A great riuer giues way to his passage. him, when in the same waggon being to passe through a most swift riuer, too deepe for his humble coach to wade in, the curre­sie of those streames was soe great, that they stopped the violen­ce of their owne furious hast, and expected till the sainct (like an other Josue) passed through on the drie bottom: and then the riuer (which all this while had made (as it were) a collection, or vni­ting of its owne forces, more lowdly to proclaime and roare out the prayses of the vertue and holines of the glorious Bishop Sainct ERKENWALD) ranne in his accustomed and wonted manner. The hower of his death re­ [...]ealed.

III. AT LENGTH, when he had gouerned his bishoprick for the space of manie yeares in the continuall exercise of vertue and holy life, the blessed man goeing for his deuotion to the monasterie of Berking, and staying there some time in the conti­nuall exercise of diuine contemplation; it pleased allmightie God to reueale vnto him the hower of his departure, which he truely foretould, and to the last gaspe, comforted all that were about him, with the words of life, that flowed from [Page 410] his dying voyce. And at the very instant that his blessed sould left her house of clay and miserie, to flie to the glorious dwellings of the happie, soe sweet an odour filled the whole house where the bo­dy lay that the hearts of all the assistants were wonderfully stirred vp in the prayse of allmightie God and deuotion towards this holy sainct. The newes of his death being spread abroad, the Clergie and His bodie is transla­ted to Lō ­don. poeple of London came to Barking to fetch thēce the sacred reliques of their bishop, to burie them solemnly in sainct PAVLS Church. But coming with their holy loading to a riuer called Hesord, they found the waters encreased and swelled to such greatnes, that they were faine to lay downe their sacred treasure, and fall to their prayers to obtaine passage by the meritts of the glorious sainct, which other­wise was vnpossible without a boate. When behould to their great admiration and comfort, the water which in his life time had giuen A strange miracle. him free passage, now allsoe diuided it self into two parts, that (like vnto the Israelites loaden with the Arke of our Lord) they passed drie foote through the midst of the riuer. And that noe sooner done, but an other miracle followed, for the candles by his bodie, which had been extinguished were suddenly lighted without mans help, by a light from heauen. Soe that two elements at once gaue a double testimonie of his great vertue and sanctitie. And as in his life he was replenished with manie wonderfull spirituall graces and ver­tues soe at his death as manie sick as touched the biere whereon his bodie lay receaued perfect health and were cured of all di­seases.

His bodie was buried in sainct PAVLS Church at London, by the high aultar, where it lay manie yeares couered with a palle of ve­rie He is bu­ried in S. Pauls of London. meane value. But allmightie God decsared an length by a won­derfull miracle that the reliques of this glorious Sainct deserued greater honour and reuerence. For during the raigne of William Conquerour in the yeare of our Lord 1087. a most cruell fier sayd hold on the cittie of London by night, which consumed all before it, from the west gate to the East, at which horrid spectacle the cit­tizens greatly affrighted, were glad to saue their owne lines by flight some of them leauing their cuill-gott goods to the mercie of those London fiered. mercilesse flames; which hauing entred the Cathedrall Church of sainct PAVL, and soe entred, that there was noe hope to dispossesse [Page 411] those outrageous guests; the people were stricken with greater grief with the thought of loosing the sacred reliques of soe great a Pa­trone, then with the sight of their owne harmes. But allmightie God was zealous and carefull of the glorie of his Sainct; For when His tombe miracu­lously pre­serued frō fier. the Church was wholly in flames when the lead powred downe on all sides, when whole beames of fier came tumbling to the earth, amidst all this dolefull wrack of ruine, where the conquest was the death of the conquerour, the sacred tombe of sainct ERKENWALD, allbeit of drie wood apt to take fier remayned most free and vn­touched. And which is more, the cloath that couered it (when the two Bishops of London and Wincester, came to be eye-witnesses of this miracle) was found most pure without anie hurt; where the piercing force of the melted lead, and eating fier, was of noe force against the vertue and meritts of this worthie sainct. O wonderfull sight whatsoeuer was in the Church within the power of fier, was turned to ashes, and yet in the midst of all, the palle of his sepulcher was not one threed the worse, eyther in matter, or colour. The poe­ple flocke thither in troupes to be witnesses of that strainge spe­ctacle, giuing manie thanks to allmightie God for his goodnes; when the noueltie of this miracle banished out of their minds all thought of their owne misfortune receiued. Mauritius then bishop Mauritius Bishop of London. of London layd the foundation of the mightie Church of S. PAVL now extant, which by his successours was brought to that wonder of perfection in which now it is. And six and thirtie yeares agoe (as I haue learned from faythfull witnesses that saw it) there was in the vpper end of the Quire in Pauls Church, a table which testified where the holy body of S. ERKENWALD lay, in these words; Vnder here lieth the bodie of S. ERKENWALD fourth Bishop of London. Manie o­ther miracles were wrought by the merits of this glorious sainct which here we omitt. He died about the yeare of our Lord 690. His life is written by Gotzelinus Morimnensis, sainct Bede William Mal­mesburie de Pont. lib. 2. Iohn Capgraue, Nicolas Harpsfield saec. 7. cap. 13. and others, out of whom and the records of sainct Pauls Church we haue taken this historie. Polidore Virgil, Trithemius amougst the Saincts of S. Benedicts order, Baronius, Matthew Paris, the Romane Martirologe and all our English writers doe highly speake his prayses.

The life of Sainct ASAPH Bishop and Confessor.
MAY 1.

SAINCT ASAPH borne in that part of great Britaine now called His coun­trey, and youth. North-wales, was from his youth brought vp vnder the gouer­nement, and discipline of great sainct KENTIGERNE in the monaste­rie of Elue in Flint-shire, where amongst nine hundred and three score other monks his fellow-schollers, he s [...]ined in all manner of vertue, and bore the prize of obedience, and sainctitie from them all. He descended from a noble race, and seemed to haue the rootes of vertue engraffed in his soule from the cradle, which, by his dili­gent and carefull managing, brought forth a worthie baruest of pious fruits at their time. He putt forth him self in nothing soe much a sin labouring to make his owne conuersation, and manner of life conformable to the austere patterne of vertue and mortifi­cation, which appeared in his holy Master saint KENTIGERNL. To whom his obedience was such, that it deserued to be witnessed for excellent, by miracle. For saint KENTIGERNE coming one night out of the cold water, in which (as his custom was) he had recited the whole psalter of Dauid, and being soe extremly frozen, that he was allmost quite depriued of heate the necessarie companion of life, he The strain­ge vertue of prompt obedience. sent his holy disciple ASAPH for fier, to recouer the forces of his de­caying bodie. He (that had noe lesson soe perfect as obedience) ranne hastily to the fierie ouen, and finding noe other instrument to carrie his fier, tooke the hott scortching coales into his lapp, and without anie signe of burning in his coate, brought them to his ma­ster: who admiring soe great vertue in his scholler, held him in great estimation euer after, and committed to his charge the whole regi­ment of the monasterie, and made him his successour in the Bishop­rick of Elue, now called S. ASAPHS, retayning allwaies the name, but farre wide of the vertues, and fayth of saint ASAPH. Who when he had gouerned his sea for the space of manie yeares in great sainctitie and miraculous workes, in venerable old age he gaue vp his blessed [Page 413] soule to receaue the crowne of euerlasting life, the first day of May, about the yeare of our Lord 569. whose name to this day is very fa­mous throughout Wales in the mouthes of all true-hearted Welchmen; to the great confusion of our Protestant-Heroticks, who are not ashamed to honour the saincts by calling their Churches by their names to whom in catholick times they were dedicated, and in their confession of fayth to denie anie honour at all to be due vnto them, contrarie to the generall doctrine of the Catholick Church, and all auncient fathers. Thus much we haue gathered out of Molanus in his ad­ditions to Vsuard, Arnold Wion, Iohn Capgraue, and others. The Ro­man martirologe this first of May makes mention of S. Asaph.

The life of S. EADBERT Bishop and Confessor, of the holy order of saint BENEDICT.
MAY. 6. Out of Venerable Bede hist. de gest. Ang. lib. 4.

EADBERT surnamed the Almner a man as excellent in learning & the knowledge of diuine scriptures, as in the obseruance of Ec­clesiasticall and monasticall precepts, and most excellent in the ver­tue of giuing almes, was raysed from the humilitie of a Benedictine monk in the monasterie of Lindisfarne, to succeede that glorious or­nament He is made bishop of Lindis­farne. of the Benedictine familie Great S. CVTHBERT in the gouer­nment of the same Episcopall sea. In which dignitie he most wor­thyly discharged the office of a good prelate, exactly obseruing wi­thall the rigour and seueritie of monasticall discipline. He was wont to spend the whole time of lent, and fortie daies before the natiuitie of our Lord, in a secret place seperated from his Church, where he exercised him self in the continuall practise of prayer, contempla­tion, and bitter penance, with all other religious vertues. And this was the same place in which his excellent predecessour S. CVTH­BERT, had for a time led a solitarie life, before he went to the Island of Farne. The eleuenth yeare after the deposition of the neuer-enough named S. CVTHBERT, when the monks of Lindissarne ope­ning His death and buriall his graue, had found his bodie vncorrupted (as is sayd in his life the twentith of March) they brought part of his cloathes to saint EADBERT, then liuing in his solitarie place of deuotion which he both receaued verie gratefully, and reuerenced with [Page 414] wonderfull affection. And (sayd he) let that sacred bodie be wrapped in new cloathes in steed of those you haue taken off, and place it honourably in the shrine which you haue prepared; for most certainly I know, that the graue which his holy relicks haue consecrated with such admirable miracles, will not long be emptie of an inhabitant. And how happie is that man, to whom our Lord the Authour, and bestower of all happines, shall voutchase to make worthie to rest therein. These and such like words the holy bis­hop vttered with a trembling tongue, whilst the teares that trickled downe his cheekes witnessed the feeling compunction of his heart. The monks presently performed his commaund, and placed the sa­cred bodie of S. CVTHBERT in a chest ouer the sepulcher, wherein he had been buried. In the meane time, the beloued seruant of God S. EADBERT desiring of allmightie God, that for better satis­faction of his former life he might passe out of this world through His death and buriall. the parching furnace of a long-during sicknes, fell into a most gree­uous disease, which encreased dayly more and more, for the space of more then a moneth; when the vehemencie was soe great, that it forced his blessed soule to leaue her mortall lodging, to make a happie flight to the immortall habitation of happines: the sixt day of May. And out of the prerogatiue of his great Sainctitie he was iudged worthie to be buried in the graue which his predecessor S. CVTHBERT had consecrated eleuen yeares with his incorrupted bo­die; and soe aliue he became S. CVTHBERTS successour in the epis­copall Sea, and in his sepulcher being dead. Where Venerable BEDE affirmeth, that he shined with same of working manie miracles. But whether they were wrought by his meritts, or saint CVTHBERTS, whose bodie was placed in a chest ouer the same graue, it can be iudged by none but him, who searcheth the hearts, and reines of all men; whose name be for euer blessed. He died in the yeare of our Psal. 9. Lord 698. Besides S. BEDE whom we haue followed, William Malmes­bury, Molanus, Nicholas Harpsfield, and the Roman martirologe [...] honourable mention of S. EADBERT,

The life of S. IOHN of Beuerley Bishop and Confessor, of the holy order of S. BENEDICT.
MAR 7. Out of Venerable Bede hist. de gest. Ang. lib. 5. c. 2. & [...]

SAINCT IOHN surnamed of Beuerley borne of noble English parents in the north parts of great Britaine, was sent in his youth to Canturbury to be instructed by the two Oracles of Learning and vertue S. THEODORE the Archbishop, and S. ADRIAN Abbott of the Benedictine Abbey of S. PETER, in the same cittie. In this holy schoole of vertue, and learning, IOHN not only profitted in the knowledge of holy scripture, and good manners, but allsoe was kindled with a desire to embrace the same monasticall rule of S. BENEDICT which his masters professed. And to this end, hauing soundly perfected his vnderstanding with learning, he departed to His Incli­nation to a religious life. the Benedictine Abbey of Streanshall, where putting on the habitt, and profession of a Monk, he both exercised him self in the perfe­ction of monasticall discipline, and greatly promoted the obser­uance of S. BENEDICTS rule which great S. WILFRID had introdu­ced into the same monasterie. Moreouer, the worth of his learning is worthly witnessed by the excellencie of his schollers, amongst whom were S. BRITHVNE afterwards Abbot of Beuerley, S. WIL­FRID the Lesser, that succeeded him in the Archbishoprick of Yorke, both Benedictine monkes, and aboue all, the glorie and ornament of his Countrey and the Benedictine order, Venerable BEDE; all which with others saint IOHN not only instructed in diuine and humane knowledge, and incited to pietie with his godly admoni­tions, but allso inflamed them much more with the example of his owne life and vertue, to vndertake the high iourney of religious perfection. He bore a singular affection to S. BEDE, whom when he was bishop he aduanced to the dignitie of deaconship, and priestood. Alfred King of the Northumbers moued with the fame He is made Bishop of Hagustald. of this holy mans Sainctitie, made him successour to Eata in the Episcopall sea of Hagustald, otherwise called Hexham. But after the death of Bosa he was translated to the Archiepiscopall chayre of [Page 416] Yorke. In which sacred function he performed his dutie with g [...]e [...] praise and admiration of all. When all the minds and eyes of En­gland were fixed wholly vppon him, both for his excellent vertue and equallie rare learning, as allsoe for his wonderfull, and mi­raculous deeds, which worthily witnessed the pietie of his life and conuersation.

II. BVT during the time of his regencie in the Church of Hagu­stald, or Hexham, at a place somwhat more then a mile distant from His retired life in Lent. thence in a chappell dedicated to S. MICHAEL, he went often times and specially in time of Lent, to leade a solitarie and contemplatiue life seperated frō the affayres of the world, attending only to things diuine and heauenly. Beginning this holy exercise on a time, he con­maunded his companions (as his custom was) to seeke him out some poore creature more miserable then ordinarie, whō he might main­taine there with the charitie of his dayly almes. They brought him a poore boy dum-borne, with a cappe of scabbes and scurffe on the topp of his head insteed of hayre, about which grew a thinne hedge of frighted hayres; the sight whereof begott an horrour in the behoulders. The holy bishop (much reioyced that he had found soe fitt a subiect vpon whō to exercise his accustomed office of charitie) caused presently a little lodging to be built within the precinct of his owne habitation; where that wretched pouertie was dayly re­freshed with the stipend of his pietie. But the first weeke of Lent See the vertue of the signe of the Crosse. being past, he commaunded them to bring the poore man before him, & making the signe of the holy crosse vpō his tongue, he recea­ued not only the perfect vse of his speech, but allso was cured of the scabbie scuruines in his head. Soe that he that before bore the shape or dumb-shew of deformitie, was suddenly become readie in his speech, quaint and fayre in his countenance and curled locks, and glad to heare himself play the crier of his owne happines.

III. ALSOE with his benediction he cured a Nunne of a great swel­ling Manie mi­racles. & cruell payne in her arme, caught by letting bloud. And being by an Earle (whose countesse lay languishing in a mortall disease) in­uited to consecrate a Church, he sent her of the holy water which he had vsed in that act of consecration, and she noe sooner dronk thereof, but presently rising sound out of her bed, she came (like S. PETERS mother-in-law cured by our Sauiour) and wayted on them Luc. 4. [Page 417] at the table, shewing thereby, that she had not only recouered her health, but her lost forces allsoe. The like benefitt he shewed to a yong man, of whose health his friends were soe hopelesse, that his graue was allreadie prepared; when contrarie to all expectation, by the prayers & benedictiō of the holy bishop, and drinking a cupp of wine by him hallowed, he was restored againe to perfect health. But one Herebald who sometime had been his scholler receaued a farre greater benefitt at his hands, being by his meanes preserued from the ruine both of bodie and soule; as him self being afterwards Ab­bot of Tinemouth) related to venerable Bede in this manner.

‘When in my youth I liued vnder the tutorship of the B. bishop IOHN Note this miracu­lous histo­rie. to betrayned vp in the studies of Ecclesiasticall discipline & learning, my mind being at that time carried away with the wild & vntamed sports of an youthly ardour; we happened being one day in a iour­ney with the holy man, to come into a fayre plaine and large way, which seemed to inuite vs to rūne a course with our horses. And the secular yong men of the companie began earnestly to entreate the Bishops leaue to haue a course; whereūto he was loath to cōsent, till ouercome with their importunitie, he yielded to their request, but The pu­nishment of disobe­dience to S. Iohn. vpon cōdition that Herebald should abstayne frō that sport. But then I begā earnestly to pleade my owne cause, that I might trie my horse with the rest, knowing him to be of very good speed; but could by noe meanes preuayle to gett his consent. Wherevpon being no lon­ger able to contayne my vntamed desires within the limitts of obe­dience, I set spurres to my horse and ranne amongst the rest; when I could heare him behind me fetch a great sigh & say: O what a grief thou giuest me in soe riding? Notwithstāding I held on that forbid­den course, till leaping ouer a hollow place I caught a fall which left me as dead without anie sense or motion, a iust punishment of my disobedience. From seauen of clock till the euening I lay there for dead, and then reuiuing a little, my companions carried me home, where I passed that night without speaking one word. But the holy bishop, who bore a singular affection to me, grieued exceedingly at this mischance, and that whole night he spent only in watching and prayer for my recouery. In the morning he came to me, and out of a diuine instinct, asked yf I were certaine of my baptisme; to whom, hauing now recouered my speech, I answered, yes; and named the [Page 418] Priest that had washed me in the sacred Font. Yf that were the Priest that did it (replied he) thou art not rightly baptised: For he is both of witt and vnderstanding soe dull, that he could neuer learne the true manner of catechising or baptising, and for that reason I haue commaunded him to cease frō the exercise of that function, which Se the auncient ceremonies of bap­tisme. he could not execute in due māner. This sayd, he beganne presently to catechise me: and it happened that breathing in my face (as the manner is) I straight began to find my self much amended of my hurt. He caused the Chirurgean to settle and compose aright the dissolued ioynt of my skull, and hauing giuen his benediction to the worke, at the same instant I recouered foe well, that the next day I was able to ride an other iourney with him, by whose meritts I was restored to health. And within a while after, being fully recouered, I receaued the sacrament of baptisme; soe that I am indebted the sal­uation both of soule and bodie to Blessed Sainct IOHN.’ Thus was Herebald wont to relate of him self to Venerable BEDE.

IV. But S. IOHN hauing gouerned his bishoprick the space of S. Iohn. leaueth the Bishoprick thirtie three yeares, between Hagustald and Yorke, desiring now after soe manie labours, to retire his vnseruiceable old age out of the manifold affayres of the world, to the sweet and quiet harbour of his auncient religious life, the better to prepare him self for his neere-approaching end, he departed to the Benedictin monaste­rie which him self had built at Deirwood, or Beuerley, where amongst the monks he led a holy and angelicall life the space of fower yeares, famous for vertues and miracles. At length loade [...] with merits and good works, he was called out of this mortall life, to the happie enioying of the immortall; the seauenth day of May, in the yeare of our Lord God seauen hundred twentie one. Which place, and the memorie of this glorious Sainct was afterwards ennobled with soe manie wonders, that scarse anie place in England is comparable vnto it, for the familiaritie of miracles, or enlarged with greater priuileges and exemptions from Princes. One therefore, and not the left of those signes Bull [...] straingely tamed. which commend the pietie of saint IOHN, and the sainctitie of this place, is that strainge spectacle which was wont often times there to be exhibited. Bulls, otherwise most fierce and vntamed, being with great paines and sweat brought bound [Page 419] to the Church-yard of Beuerley, as soone as they entred therein, de­posed all their fiercenes, that they seemed rather to be meeke lambs then madd, and vnruly bulls. All [...]oe in the yeare of our Lord one thousand three hundred and twelue, on the feast of saint BERNARD, a wonderfull oyle issued miraculously out of his sepul­cher for the space of a whole day, which was verie medecinall and soueraigne against manie diseases.

V. KING ETHELSTAN [...] being much molested by the frequent in­cursions Ethelstan [...] molested by the Scots. of the Scotts, gathered an armie togeather and went to Be­uerley, where falling on his knees at the tombe of this Blessed Sainct, he humbly recommended him self and his cause to his sacred pro­tection. And hauing ended his prayer he drew out his knife and layd it on the aultar saying: Behould (most glorious Sainct) I putt this for a pledge before thee, that yf by thy meritts I returne victo­rious of mine enemies. I will enrich thy Church with ample guifts and reuenewes. Then causing a banner of that Church to be car­ried before him, he marched couragiously against the Scotts, who hearing of his coming fled ouer into Scotland, and there expected him. Ethelstane hauing fixed his tents on the other side of the riuer Ethelstane victorious by the me­rits of S. Iohn. S. IOHN appeared to him, and bad him goe ouer couragiously, and assault his enemies. Which the next morning he performed, and in that conflict manie of the Scotts were slaine, and their whole ar­mie discomfited. Then King Ethelstane hauing humbly desired of saint IOHN to haue some signe which might serue as a perpetuall testimonie of the King of Englands prerogatiue ouer the Scotts, he struck his sword into a hard rock neere Dunbar castle, where for manie ages after remayned a marke the length of a yeard made hollow in the same stone, with the blow. And for proofe here­of wee haue, that king Edward the first (when there was question before Pope Boniface of his right and prerogatiue ouer Scotland) brought this historie for the maintenance and strength of his cause.

VI. KING ETHELSTANE hauing obtayned the foresayd Beuerley a Sainctuarie victorie honoured saint IOHN euer after as his peculiar Pa­trone and Guardian: and ennobled the Church of Beuerley with manie great freedoms, graunting vnto it the right of Sainctua­ry, to be a safe refuge for all criminall, and suspected persons [Page 420] of what offence soeuer. Manie other famous miracles (here omit­ted) haue been done by the meritts of this glorious Bishop▪ all which moued Alfrick the seauenteenth Bishop of York after him, Translation of S. Iohn. to take vp his holy reliques, three hundred and sixteen yeares after his death, and place them in a precious and rich shrine the fiue and twentie day of October, which is the feast of his transla­tion; on which verie day in the yeare of our Lord one thousand foure hundred and fifteen the most inuincible King of England Henry the fift of that name, wonne the memorable battle of Agi [...]court against the French, Which the King ascribing to the meritts of the most blessed Bishop saint IOHN, at his triumphant returne into England, caused the feasts both of his deposition and tran­slation to be solemnly celebrated throughout the Prouince of Canturbury, as it was allreadie in that Yorke▪ And in the Prouin­ciall Tit. de script. Constitutions of England made in a Prouinciall Synod vnder Henry Chicheley Archbishop of Canturbury, is found a decree he­reof, made at the instance of the same most Christian King Henry the fift. Whereby it appeares that this most holy Bishop saint IOHN of Beuerley hath been an ayde to the Kings of En­gland in the necessitie of their warres, not only in auncient, but allsoe in these later ages. God of his infinite Mercie make vs partakers of his glorious merits. His life we haue gathered out of Ʋenerable Bede de gest. Aug. lib. 5. cap. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. William Malmes­bury de gest. Pontif. Aug. lib. 3. Mathew Westminster anno. 680. 686. 721. Nicholas Harpsfield saec. 8. cap. 22. Thrithemius of the fa­mous men of saint BENEDICTS order lib. 3. cap. 129. lib. 4. cap. 68. and 170. and Iohn Capgràue or Ioannes Anglicus. The Rom [...] Martirologe, Polidore Ʋirgil, Ʋsuard, Arnold Wion, Camden, and all our English writers doe worthyly celebrate his prayses.

The life of Sainct WYRE Bishop and Confessor, of the holy order ofSainct BENEDICT.
MAY. 8. Out of an auncient manus­cript reci­ted by Su rins.

SAINCT WYRE borne of worthy parents in Scotland hauing passed his infancie was sett to schoole, when being preuen­ted by the inspiration of an heauenly grace, he began in his tender His vertues and exer­cises. age to beare the yeares of a man both in mind and manners, pro­posing to him self the examples of his elders to be the rule and guide of his youthly actions. In the meane time he encreased in yeares, but more in mind, neuer yeelding to anie vaine allurements nor drawing back his foote once sett forward in the stepps of ver­tue; contemning all transitorie and wordly things, aspiring with all the forces of his soule to the loue of the eternall; soe that his holines of life increasing dayly with his yeares, he became gratefull and beloued both to God and man. He was nether broken with aduersities, nor exalted with prosperitie, neuer tired with wat­chings; Herefuseth a bisho­prick prayers were his foode, and fasting his delights, in summe nothing could mooue him from the desire and pursuite of vertue. Not long after whilst thus he shined to the world in all kind of true religion, and holines of life, the Church of that countrey was voyd of a pastour, when all with one voyce desired WIRE for their bishop; him the clergie, him the people, him all the world proclay­med to be a man sent from heauen to gouerne his natiue countrey with episcopall dignitie. But the holy man being quite of an other mind, farre from desiring to clime the slipperie degrees of fading honours, lay close vnder the wings of humilitie, and vtterly refused to accept anie such charge: affirming that he had more need him self of a Master, then to become a teacher and ruler of others.

[Page 422] II. AT length ouercome with much opportunitie of the poeple, he yeelded to goe to Rome to be consecrated, reioycing for soe good an occasion to performe that soe desired pilgrimage. And thither he went not out of an ambition of worldly dignitie, but of a desire he long had had to vndertake that iourney of deuotiō. Being come to Rome togeather with sainct PLECHELME a venerable priest, and monk, and Otgerus a deacon, they all three visited with great deuotion the sacred shrines of the Apostles, watring the pauements with the holy baulme of their deuout teares. The Pope vnderstan­ding of them, sent presently for sainct WYRE, who togeather with The Pope compells him to be bishop. his fellowes came before him, where he was receaued with won­derfull great ioy and familiaritie. When sainct WYRE hauing first plainly tould the cause of his coming, fell prostrate at the Popes feet, humbly crauing to be freed from the charge of the Bishoprick. But the Pope nothing mooued with his prayers, chose rather to prouide Gods poeple with a holy prelate, then to hearken to sainct WYRES priuate deuotions; and therefore he ordered him Bishop much against his will, and sent him back into the countrey with a strict commaund to cease from vndertaking anie pilgrimage before he returned to his poeple. Whose precept the holy man obeyed, and returned straight ouer the frozen Al [...]es, and swelling waues of the sea, to come againe into his count [...]ey, where he was receaued His returne from Rome with great ioy, honour and solemnitie. Then it was wonderfull to see how he shined in all vertue, religion, and pietie amongst his sub­iects, making allwaies his owne lif [...] correspondent to the doctrine, he preached vnto others. And allthough then he, none could bet­ter discharge the office of that high calling with all parts belonging to a good bishop, yet in his mind there remayned allwaies a pious desire to goe in pilgrimage; which his intention allbeit hidden from mans knowledge, yet to God it was most knowne, whose diuine goodnes shewed him the fauour at length to attayne the end of his wished desires.

III. FOR finding a fitt opportunitie, he left his bishoprick, and He forsa­keth his bishoprick togeather with his auncient companions Plechelme and Otgerus, he trauelled into France, choosing rather to lead a poore and humble life amōgst straingers, then to liue in pompe and glorie in his owne countrey. But the more he sought to flie the glorie and honours of [Page 423] the world, the more they followed him; for in France, King Pepin hearing of his great sainctitie, receaued him and his fellowes with He is ho­norably entert ay­ned by King Pe­pin. wonderfull ioy and honour; And hauing vnderstood of their desire to a priuate manner of life, he gaue them a place proper for that purpose called Peter-mount, in the Diocesse of Liege neere Ruremond, where was built a chappell dedicated to the B. Virgin MARY, and a famous monasterie of sainct BENEDICTS order in honour of the Prince of the Apostles sainct PETER. In this place sainct WYRE, fin­ding him self seated according to his owne desire, beganne againe to enter into the course of a monasticall life vnder the holy rule of S. BENEDICT, which long since he had professed in England amongst His holy exercises. the English monks: setting forth him self and his fellowes as liuely patternes of religion and vertue to be imitated. CHRIST only was the end of all his actions; his tongue spake nothing but CHRIST, his heart was acquainted with no other thought but of CHRIST, for whose loue he dayly sacrificed him selfe to his seruice in watchings prayers, fasting, and all other mortifications and vertues belonging to a true religious and monasticall life: Shining to the countrey both in learming, & holy cōuersation. And being adorned with ma­nie vertues, in bodie he liued on earth, but in mind he was wholely conuersant in the diuine contemplation of heauen. In fine, it were too long worthyly to rehearse all the vertues of this holy man.

IV IN THE meane time King Pepin held him in soe great venerati­on, that to him only as the spirituall guyde of his soule, and the King Pe­pins humi­litie in cō ­fession. patrone of his life he was wont to confesse and reueale the sinnes and deformities of his soule. Nether was this good Prince ashamed to goe barefooted to confession vnto him, and humbly to sub­mitt him self to the arbitrement of his will, soe highly he estee­med his sanctitie. Moreouer, he often made vse of the mature counsell of this holy man in the managing of the chiefest and weightiest affayres of his Kingdom. At length Sainct WYRE began to perceaue the neere approach of death, by the feeling of his two harbengers old age and sicknes, that came vppō him. When decrea­sing dayly in strength he still encreased in vertue couragiously expecting that blessed minute which should sett free his soule to flie to the eternall reward of his meritts: till by the violence of an ague, he chainged the fall of his mortall bodie with the rising of an [Page 224] mmortall life, and gaue vp his holy spiritt into the hands of his deare redeemer; the eight day of May, about the yeare of our Lord 763. His bodie was honourably buried in the fo­resayd chappell of the B. Virgin, were manie miracles are wrought through the meritts of this glorious Sainct. His bodie, or the greatest part thereof was afterwards translated to Ma [...]stricht, in Germanie into the Cathedrall Church of that cittie, where it is kept with great veneration of the inhabitants, and his feast celebrated with an office of a double. His life we haue gathered out of the author thereof recited by Surius, tom. 5. and Molanus in indic. Sainct. Belgii. The Roman Martyrologe this day, Baronius tom. 8. anno 631. Trithemius of the famous men of S. Benedicts order lib. 3. cap. 63. Arnold. Wion lib. 2. cap. 53. Vsuard, and m [...]nie others doe make a [...] ­ple mention of S. WIRE.

The life of Sainct FRE­MVND King and Martyr.
MAY 11. Written by Bur­chard a Monk of the same time.

FREMVND descending from a royall stock, inherited the gouernement of the Kingdom, when his father Offa was soe ouerthrowne wich old age that he was vnfit to manage those affayres anie longer. But FREMVND when he had raygned a yeare and an half, ruling his state by the balance of true iusti­stice, He forsa­keth his kingdom he soe litle esteemed the vaine pompe of the world, in respect of the loue of heauen, that vnawares of his parents, and sub­iects of his Kingdom, with two only in his companie (whereof one was Burchard that writt his life, and liued with him while he liued) he departed to a secret and vnknowne Ermitage, in the Iland called Ilefage, which at that time was inhabited only by deuils, and wicked spirits. In this place, hauing built a litle cottage, and an o­ratorie in honour of the B. Virgin MARY, he spent the space of seauē [Page 425] yeares, in continuall watching, fasting, and prayer, dayly sacri­fycing himself to God by the rude mortification of his bodie, and ouercoming the rebellious passions of the mind. When the deuill enuying soe great sainctitie in sainct FREMVND, with manie grie­uous batteries of temptations sought to ouerthrow his godly reso­lution; bringing into his memory the pompe and glory of the world ly dignitie which he had forsaken, and filling his mind with ma­nie thoughts of the great good which his youtfull dayes might haue brought to his countrey. But he found this souldier of CHRIST soe firme a rock, that all his vaine assaults could ne­ther shake nor stirre him from the seate and ground of vertue: for hauing his heart alltogeather erected towards heauen and hea­uenly things, he loathed to returne againe to the vanities of the world once despised for the loue of CHRIST; therefore well might he be wearied with the temptations of the deuill, but ouercome he could not be. He is sent for to de­fend the Countrey.

II. IN the meane time the Danes breaking into England wasted and spoyled all with fier and sword as they went: and hauing marti­red King EDMOND, Offa much fearing their power sent for his sonne Fremund home. Whom, when the messengers had most straingely found out in his poore cell at his prayers, falling downe at his feet they bewayled, and declared the necessitie of his friends and pa­rents, the arriuall of their enemies, the threatned ruine of the Chri­stians, and the vtter ouerthrow of their fayth, vnlesse by his pru­dence and courage the countrey were defended against the furie of their barbarous enemies. The champion of CHRIST much a­mazed at this newes staggered in his resolution not knowing what course to take. Till recommending the matter to allmightie God by prayer, he vnderstood it to be his will that he should goe. Therefore, armed with the shield of fayth, he returned Fremund returneth to his coū ­trey, couragiously into his countrey, where for his first welcom he found his father and a great part of the Christian armie slaine by the Pagans.

III. BVT one Oswy, who formerly had been a great friend of sainct FREMVNDS father, and now had forsaken the Christian fayth, cooke part with the Danes, hoping (as they promised) to inherite the Kingdom of Offa: and now fearing lest by the [Page 426] arriuall of Sainct FREMVND into the countrey, he should be putt by his hopes he came secretly vnto him, and with a traiterous blow strake off his head; when the bloud that issued out of that mortall wound, and fell vppon the murderer, like soe manie drops of scortching fier, burnt his bodie with such an intollerable heate that presently he repented him self of his wicked deed, and fell vp­pon his knees to demaund pardon of the Martirs dead bodie. Sainct FREMVND was martired the eleauenth of May, in the yeare of our Lord 466. His holy bodie was buried by Oswy his murderer, and others, in a place called Offe-Church within the compasse of the Kings pallace: But afterwards it was translated to a place between Th [...]ran­sl [...]n of his bodie. Charmell and Bradmere, were (the diuine prudence soe disposing) it lay hid for manie yeares vnknowne, till the place was reuealed to a holy man, and the bodie taken vpp, and honorably buried at Redick. In the meane time manie wonderfull miracles were wrought, through the merits of this B. Sainct in all these places. Sainct FREMVND was enrolled into the number of canonized Sain­cts in the yeare 1257. during the raigne of Henry the third. His memorie heretofore hath been very famous in the Iland of great Britaine. His life is written by one Burchard of Dorcester a monk, and his indiuiduall companion; and b [...] Iohn Capgraue out of Ioānes Anglicus whom we haue followed. Vsuard, Molanus, Nicholas Harpsfied saec. 9. cap. 12. and Mathew Paris an 1257. make honourable mention of him.

The life of S. DIMPNA Virgin and martir.
MAY 15. Written by Peter a Canon of Cam­bray.

WE cannot better perceiue the weaknes of blind loue, the horrible darknes that possesseth the Gentils de­priued of the true light, nor the vnderstanding, and strength which our Lord giueth to the feeble sexe of woeman-kinde to defend their chastitie, and shed their bloud for [Page 427] his loue, then in reading the life and martirdom of this glorius Vir­gin sainct DIMPNA. In Ireland there liued a verie potent King, but a Heathen, who had married a fayre woman, whom, as well in regard Her father a Pagan king. of her beautie, as her other goods parts, he dearly loued. Out of this marriage was borne a daughter called DIMPNA nothing behind her mother in beautie, whom her parents verie carefully and dainti­ly brought vp: Neuerthelesse, as soone as she had attayned to yeares of discretion coming to the knowledge of IESVS CHRIST, she be­came a Christian, and vowed perpetuall virginitie vnto him, vtterly She vow­eth her virginitie to God. despising all the Pompes, banquets, dances, and other vanities of the Court. In the meane time, her mother being dead, her father, hauing dried vp his superfluous teares for her death, was desirous to mar­rie a secōd wife, which he would haue to be a fayre yong mayd like vnto the former. But fayling to find such an one in the countrey, his flattring courtiers perswaded him to cast his eyes vppon his daughter DIMPNA, then whom, none could be fayrer, and in whom (being verie like her mother) he might reuiue the figure of his late Her father [...]keth her in mar­riage wife. What more? this detestable counsell noe sooner arriued at his eares, but straight the deuill, who desired to bring DIMPNA to Idolatrie, incensed the king with the flames of an incestuous and impure loue towards his daughter. Here vppon he beganne to soūd her intention, with all manner of sweet speeches, and allurements, promising to giue her, her whole hearts desire, yf she would but marrie him. DIMPNA stopt her eares at the hissing of this venom­mous serpent, and answered that she would neuer consent to such an abominable i [...]nceste. The king still earnestly vrged, and she as couragiously resisted; till in the end, growing extreamly angry, he could her, that he hould marrie her whether she would or no: Then recommending her self heartyly to the deare spouse of her soule CHRIST IESVS, she answered her father, that since he was resolued therevnto, she desired fortie daies respite, and to haue all her rings, and royall ornaments that she wanted, to sett out her self for his greater aduantage. He most willingly graunted her request, thinking that his daughter had chainged her intention.