MONKISH SUPERSTITION;

OR,

A CURIOUS CASE OF CONSCIENCE.

Archbishop ANSELM's Letter to BERNARD, Monk of the Abbey of St. Warbugh, on the IMPORTANT Question, Whether it be more meritorious to whip one's self, or to be whipped by another * ?

(Faithfully translated from the Latin.)

GREETING AND PRAYER.

YOUR Lord Abbot acquainted me, that you judged it to be of greater merit, when a monk either whippeth himself, or desires to be whipped of another, than when he is whipped, (not of his own will) in the chapter, by order of the prelate: but it is not as you think; for the judgment that man pronounces on himself is kingly, but that which he submits to in the chapter is an act of obedience, is monkish. That which I call kingly, kings, and proud men, wallowing in wealth, command to be executed on themselves; but that which I consider as monkish, does not proceed from self-command, but obedience.

* Vid. Anselm. Epist. 255.

The

The kingly is undoubtedly much easier, so far as it agreeth with the will of the sufferer; but the monkish is so much the more grievous in proportion as it is repugnant to the will of the sufferer. In the kingly judgment, the sufferer is judged to be his own; in the monkish he is proved not to be his own. For although the king, or rich man, when he is flogged, sheweth himself to be a sinner in all humility, yet he would not submit to this humility at the command of any other, but would withstand the command with all his power. But when a monk submits in all humility to the whip in full chapter, in obedience to the command of the 'prelacy, it is evident, that the merit is the greater, inasmuch as he humbleth himself more, and more truly than the other. For he humbleth himself to God alone, because he knoweth his sins; but this man humbleth himself to man for obedience. Now he is much lowlier, that humbleth himself both to God and man, for God's sake, than he that humbleth himself to God only, and not to the commandment of God. Therefore, if he that humbleth himself shall be exalted; therefore, he that humbleth himself still more, shall be still more exalted. But when I said, that when a monk underwent the discipline of the lash, it was against his will, you must not understand it in that light, as

though

though he would not patiently bear it with an obedient heart, but because, by a natural appetite, he would not suffer the smart; but, if you say, I do not so much fly the open flagellation, for the pains (which I feel as much as in secret) as for the shame, know then, he is a stranger that rejoices to bear this for obedience sake. Rest therefore assured, that one whipping of a monk, through obedience, is of more merit than innumerable whippings of his own desire. whereas he is such, that he ought, on all occasions, to have a heart without a whimper to be whipt as often as the prelacy pleases, his merit then will be great, whether the lash is given in public, or in private.

But

BISHOP MAULE.

DOCTOR Maule was a native of Scotland; he was bishop of Meath in 1734, a truly primitive Christian divine. His charities were so extensive, that notwithstanding the immense revenue of his bishopric, he was the poorest man in his diocese; so that his books were sold pay his funeral expenses. If not the founder, he was at least the warmest patron of the charter

to

schools,

schools, erected in Ireland, for the instruction and support of poor orphans, &c. the

"Plants of his hand, and children of his prayer."

He was a steady friend to the linen manufactory in all its branches. By his means industrious young women were furnished with spinningwheels, and indigent weavers with looms, gratis. His Lordship's character was attempted in the following lines, a few days after his death, by one that had often tasted of his bounty, and venerated his worth.

Old Maule is dead; fain would I write
His dirge, although the subject's trite,
For scarce a fiddler now can die,

But newsboys roar his elegy;
Yet shall a prelate silent sleep,

And not one soul in metre weep
But then his manners were so plain,

I doubt, my panegyric's vain,
For what of him can well be said,
Who to the world hath long been dead ?
Did he build domes by Attic rules?
No: nought but humble charter-schools.
Did he with taste adorn his rooms?
No: his lov'd furniture was looms.

Did he politely keep a day,
And then his elegance display?
No rich sirloins his table press'd,
The hungry, not the rich, his guest.
What civil thing then can I say
Of one, who liv'd so out o' th' way?

Vain 's the attempt, in vain I strive,
Nor would he thank me if alive:
For true it is, though somewhat odd,
He lov'd no praise, but that of God.

THE AFRICAN DUEL.

(Translated from the French.)

IN the most brilliant period of the reign of Louis XIV. two African youths, the sons of a prince, being brought to the court of France, the King was so struck with the native dignity of their manners, that he appointed a Jesuit to instruct them in letters, and in the principles of Christianity; when properly qualified, his Majesty gave to each a commission in the guards. The eldest, who was remarkable for his docility and candour, made a considerable progress in learning, as well as in the doctrine of the Christian religon, which he admired for the purity of its moral precepts, and the good will that it recommended to all mankind. A brutal officer, upon some trifling dispute, struck him. The youth saw that it was the result of passion, and did not resent it. A brother-officer, who witnessed the insult, took an opportunity of talking to him on his behaviour, which he did not hesitate to tell him as a friend, was too tame, especially for a soldier. "Is there," said the young negro,