\?:^-^;:'l^:m^: ^-1':",!: ;'Hh^;'C''^'f''i'-i1::*i;';;,:':,; ill 1 ■ itintitm ,'n-u\nni\ THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES A.N ENGLISH PILGRIM, FROM AN KFFKiV AT ASIIHY DE LA ZOUCHE. cPILGRIMACtES TO SAINT MARY OF WALSINGHAM AND SAINT THOMAS OF CANTERBURY. BY DESIDERIUS, ERASMUS. NEWLY TRANSLATED, WITH THE COLLOQUY ON RASH VOWS, BY THE SAME AUTHOR, AND HIS CHARACTERS OF ARCHBISHOP WARHAM AND DEAN COLET, AND ILLUSTRATED WITH NOTES, BY JOHN GOUGH NICHOLS, F.S.A. " And thanne we putt us all in the mercy of God, beyng in great peyne and woo both day and ny^ht, vowyng sum of us pylgrymages to our lady of Loretto in Ytalya, and sum to our lady of VValsyngham, and sum to seynt Thomas of Caunterbury, we thatwer Englysshmen." Torkyngton'' s Pilgrimage to Jerusalem. WESTMINSTER. JOHN BOWYER NICHOI.S AND SON. 1849. rr\ CONTENTS. Introduction ...... Hi Erasmus's defence of his Colloquy on '' Pilgrimage for Reli- gion's Sake" ...... X The Colloquy on " Rash Vows ; or, Pilgrimages to Sacred Places" ...... xiii Note on the Mortality among Pilgrims . . . xvii Indulgences buried in Graves . . . xviii The Author's defence of the preceding Colloquy . . xix remarks on Rash Vows . . . xxii Papal Indulgences or Bulls . ib. The Colloquy on " Pilgrimage for Religion's Sake," de- scribing the Pilgrimages of Walsingham and Canterbury 1 NOTES. The scallop-shell of saint James , , 69 Pilgrims' signs or tokens 70, 240 Straw necklaces • 73 The rosary • ib. Pilgrimage to saint James of Compostella 76, 241 Greek literature . 78 Calamities dreaded from the saints 79, 246 Maria a Lapide at Basle . . ib. The epitaph of Beda . . ib. The scroll brought to saint Giles by an ang el 80 Stones which conceal nothing • 81 CONTENTS. Paul carries a. sword . . , . .81 Saint William ...... 82 Saint Anthony bath his sacred fire . . .82 The situation of Walsingham .... ib. Mariazell compared with Walsingham . . . ■ 83 The revenues of AValsingham . . . 85, 242 Oil from the tombs of the saints . . . 85, 242 The Assumption of the Virgin . . . .86 Legend of sir Ralph Boutetourt .... ib. The shed brought from a great distance . .88 The two wells at Walsingham . . . .89 The bear's skin fixed to the rafters . . .90 Relies of the Blood of Christ — at Glastonbury, Westminster, Hailes, and Ashridge . . . . . ib. Relics of the true Cross ..... 93 Some pilgrims neither pure nor chaste . . .96 Robert .Vldricli the companion of Erasmus at Walsingham . 97 Indulgences ..... 98, 243 Saint Bernard ...... 100 Profane use of Scripture phraseology . . . ib. Votive Inscription left by Erasmus at Walsingham . . 101 E.vempt jurisdiction of mitred abbeys . . . 103 .\ngels attendant on the Virgin .... ib. The beam on which the Virgin had rested . . , 104 The gigantic saint Christopher at Paris . . . ib. Charm attributed to the figure of saint Christopher 107, 244 The crepaudine or toad-stone . . . 107, 243 Gold and silver statues at shrines .... 108 Assumed dedication of Canterbury cathedral church to saint Thomas of Canterburj' ..... 110 The names of the assassins of Hecket . . .111 Mooks fixed to tiie pillars of churches . . . ib. The goHpel of Nicodenius ..... 113 CONTENTS. The ancient Altar of the Virgin and the Martyrdom at Can terbury .... The point of the sword Our Lady of tlie undercroft Saint Thomas's head The leaden inscription thomas acrensis The hair shirts, &c. of the martyr The relics at Canterbury The character of Dh. John Colet, drawn by Erasmus An especial honour to be London-born The foundation of Saint Paul's School Anecdote of a Cambridge Scotist Colet 's estimation of married men His contempt of the Scotists The sacristy at Canterbury . Treasures of the church of Canterbury The pastoral staff of saint Thomas The cross-headed staff of archbishops The character of Archbishop Warham, drawn by Erasmus .... The portrait of saint Thomas at Canterbury Spoliation of churches Thomas Goldwell, prior of Canterbury The Shrine of Saint Thomas The Shrines of Saint Edward, Saint Edmund, Saint and Saint Cuthbert Rapacity of the English custom-house officers Herbaldown hospital Saint Patrick's cave The Roman stations The sumptuousness of churches 113 115 116 118 120 121 124 126 130 135 137 138 143 155 ih. 156 ih. 157 160, 245 . 160 . 164 119, 165,211 Alban, 170 173 175 176 178 179 CONTENTS. Al'PExNDIX. Woi-ship of tlie Virgin and the Saints . . 180, 245 The abuses of Pilgrimage censured by the poet Longland and the lollard Thorpe . . . .183 Modern pilgrimage on the continent . . . 190 Historical notices of AValsingham and its pilgrimage . 195 The architecture of Walsingham . . . 200 Articles of Inquiry for the monastery of Walsingham . 202 Letter of Richard Southwell to lord privy seal Cromwell, after the visitation of Walsingham in 1536 . . 205 Fate of the abbey on the dissolution . . . 207 Lament for Walsingham ..... 208 Historical notices of Canterbury and its pilgrimage . 211 The martyrdom of saint Thomas of Canterbury . . 213 The four murderers of Becket .... 219 Honours paid to saint Thomas of Canterbury . . 221 Relies of saint Tliomas of Canterbury . . . 224 Proceedings of Henry VIII. against saint Thomas of Can- terbury ....... 231 Additional Notes (including) : — CTlaucoi)lutus ...... 241 The Pilgrimage to Wilsdon . . . .242 Scarlet gowns and blue gowns . . . 244 The Pilgrims'' Tombs at Llanfihangel aber Co win . 246 CORRIGENDA. P. 81. Read, " This motto is derived from Romans, xiii. 4. P. 8.'>. Read, " Saint Pcrjictuus, bishop of Maestricht, at Dinant in Belgium," ».«njinan in Britany. P. K7. line ('),for foiled reod fooled. P. 92, line 5 from foot, /or vesalle read beralle. P. 93, line 2, for Kelsey read Hilsey. LIST OF EMBELLISHMENTS. English Pilgrim, from an effigy at Asliby de la Zouehe Frontispiece. The bearded and tight-laced Knight* Pilgrim on his way, from Erasmus's Praise of Folly. Gatehouse of Walsingham Priory .... Seal of Eton College, representing the Assumption of the Blessed Mary ..... Plan of part of Canterbury Cathedral Saint Thomas's Head .... Seal of Archbishop Becket Shrine of Saint Thomas of Canterbury Seal of the Nunnery of Ivychurch, Wiltshire Pilgrim's sign or token of " Saint Thomas's Head" The Pilgrims' Graves at Llanfihangel aber Cowin . 18 67 88 103 114 118 156 166 182 240 247 * From the sepulchral brass of sir William de Tendring : see p. 88. THE SOUL'S PILGRIMAGE. (xive me my scallop-shell of quiet, My staff of faith to walk upon, My scrip of joy, immortal diet, My bottle of salvation, My gown of glory (hope's true gage,) And then I'll take my pilgrimage. Blood is my body's only balmer, No other balm will here be given, Whilst my soul, like quiet palmer, Travelleth towards the land of heaven. Over the silver mountains. Where spring the nectar fountains, There will I kiss the bowl of bliss — Sir Walin- Raleigh^s Remains. INTRODUCTION. This little volume was undertaken on finding that the interestmg account preserved by the pen of Erasmus of the two principal English pilgrim- ages was not so well known* as it deserved to be, whether as illustrating a chapter of religious history, or as supplying features of local descrip- tion not elsewhere to be fomid. In the latter respect, indeed, it has been more regarded by those writers who have described the cathedral church of Canterbury, than by such as * The Editor is not aware that there is even any translation of the Colloquies of Erasmus more recent than that of Mr. Nich. Bailey the lexicographer, dated early in the last century, and in a style now nearly as obsolete, though somewhat less coarse, than that of Sir Roger L' Estrange, made sixty years before. a2 IV IXTRODUCTION. have had occasion to notice the ruined fane of Walsiniiliani. Camden was of course acquainted with what the Colloquies of Erasmus afforded on both places, and when describino; each of them in his " Britannia" he has quoted the " Percgi'inatio Religionis ergo," — at Canterbury adopting some of its very words ; but the i)lan of his work enjoined brevity. Somner, the early historian of Canterbury cathedral, has didy taken Erasmus with him round the church, and so accordingly have the subsequent Kentish topographers; but Blomefield, the Norfolk histo- rian, seems as if he knew him only at second-hand, tlu'ouffh the medium of Camden. Fosbroke, the historian of British Monacliism, has not only neglected to avail himself of many of the characteristic features which Erasmus presents, but has even thrown a degree of discredit upon his narrative, as if it had been imaginary, or put toge- ther from various quarters. His words are, " Ac- cording to Erasmus, the Walsingham pilgrimages were mere imitations of those to Loretto ; but there INTRODUCTION. V is an apparent mixture of fiction in liis account of this our famous provincial pilgrimage which pre- cludes quotation." The present writer, on the contrary, has had the satisfaction of finding Erasmus's description of Walsingliam confirmed in so many of its minor details, that he is induced to regard it as an exact description of the place, w^ithout any further devia- tion fi'om perfect accuracy than such as any one might make who wrote from recollection. In the first place, we find his description of the churches of Walsingham Priory correct: there were two, the priory church and the wooden chapel of the Virgin, around which " the New Work" of stone had been erected, but was never finished, just as Erasmus describes it. The two wells, which he mentions, still exist ; and the old wooden cottage or shed whose credit for antiquity was supported by a bear-skin, as well as the much- esteemed relic of the Virgm's ]\f ilk, have testimony borne to them by the Visitors' queries which will be found in the Appendix. The miracle of the VI INTRODUCTION. Knight's escape throug'h the wicket of the gateway is not only mentioned in these queries, but also in another record, which has been preserved by the historian Blomefield. That Erasmus personally visited Walsingham we have fiu'ther evidence from his other writings. We learn when his first visit took place from a letter to Andreas Ammonius, which is dated from Cambridge, on the 8tli of May, 1511; and in which he says, after alluding to the wars in Italy, " I have undertaken a vow for the good-success of the Church. 1 intend to visit the Virgin of Wal- singham, and to liang up some Greek verses there. If ever you go there, look for them."* It is there- * Epistola cxiv. Andreaj Ammonio Erasmus s. d. Si quid est certi rumoris apud vos, qua?so ut nobis inpartias. Nam raag- nopere velim audire, num vere Julium agat Julius, et num Chris- tu8 antiquam obtineat morem, ut quos maxime suos videri velit, eo8 maxime adversae fortuna? procellis exerceat. Ego, mi Andrea, pro felici rerum ecclesiasticarum suceessu votum susfCfii. Jam scio rcligioiieni prol)as. Visam Virginem Walsagamicam ; atque illic Gra;cum carmen suspendam. Id si quando te illic contuleris require. ***** Canlahii'y. 8 Maij, anno 1511. It is remarkable that in the next letter of Ammonius to Erasmus INTRODUCTION. Vll fore evident that at tliis date lie had already written, or in part composed, the Inscription to which he alludes in the Colloquy, and for which I have not searched in vain among tlie volmninous foHos of his Works.* It may not be equally capable of proof that the second visit to Walsingham described in the Col- loquy was actually paid by Erasmus. It is very possible that this second visit was supposititious, that it was invented as a vehicle for telling his story, and that he indulged his love of satire in imagining the difficulties which his Greek inscrip- tion had occasioned to the unlearned canons ; and indeed we may conclude that one visit to the place would satisfy the curiosity of a man of his penetra- tion and just appreciation of the superstitions which then flourished at this famous shrine. The authen- ticity of his descriptions and of the incidents he mention is made of a pilgrimage made by pope Julius himself to Loretto : " Julius Maximus ad templum Deiparaj in Laureto se contulit, salutem suam divw gratulaturus." And. Ammonius Erasmo. 27 Oct. 1511. * See p. 102. VIU INTRODUCTION. relates is fiilly vindicated by referring them to the observations which he made at his visit in the year loll; mid it may also be supposed that it was tlicn that the young Etonian Aldrich was his com- panion, who became afterwards bishop of Carlisle.* To Canterbury Erasmus was accompanied by a man of still higher character, though he did not attain so exalted a rank in the Church. The iden- tity of Gratianus PuUus with Dr. John Colet is shewn from a passage f in another production of our author ; and the various particiJars of the Pil- grimage to Canterbury are confirmed in so many points by evidence either still existing or remem- bered on good authority, that no one has ever ex- pressed a doubt but that Erasmus wrote his de- scription of Canterbury from personal observation. Though no clue has been foimd to determine the year in which Colet and he were there toge- ther, yet it must have been before the year 1519, which was that of Colet's death. They probably performed more than one journey in company, for * Seep. 07. t Seep. 127. INTRODUCTION. IX Erasmus seems to refer with delight to several such pilgrimages when he says, "Me nomiunquam et Peregrinationis comitem ascivit: nihil erat eo festivius." The colloquy here translated, entitled " Peregri- natio Religionis ergo," was apparently not written mitil some years had elapsed from the author's pil- grimages to both places. The date which occurs in it, appended to the Letter supposed to have been written by the Virgin of the Stone near Basle, namely 1524, was probably the actual date of its composition : for it was in that year that Erasmus completed an enlarged edition of liis Colloquies, being then resident at Basle, and they had been first printed* two years before, w'ithout the "Pere- grinatio Religionis ergo." In the earlier edition of 1522 a much more brief but very lively colloquy had been published, in which the author had treated with much freedom the reputed merit of Pilgri- * That is to say, first with the author's consent. There had been one edition a little earlier, taken surreptitiously from a manu- script copy. There is even an edition Basili.-p 1524 which does not contain the " Pcrcgrinatio Religionis ergo." X INTRODUCTION. mages, as well as the reputed value of Pardons and Indidgences. In this composition, which, from its place in the volume, (immediately after the mere fonnidaries of conversation,*) may be regarded as one of the first Erasmus wrote, he had given much offence to those interested in maintainmg the super- stitions of the age ; and in his defence of the whole work, which was appended to the edition of 1524, liis apology for the sentiments thus promulgated is nearly as long as the colloquy itself. Both the Colloquy on Rash Vows and its Apology will be foimd attached to tliese remarks. In the same review of his labours Erasmus gave the following explanation of his intention in the " Pil(n'imao;e for Religion's Sake :" " In the ' Pereirrmatio Relisionis ergo ' I censure those who have violently ejected all images from churches : and then such as run mad upon pil- grimages undertaken under pretext of religion, for • Indeed, it succeeds them with merely this title, Alia in con- greitu. The printer gave the pages this heading, De votis iemere $u*cepli». KrasmuH afterwards referred to the colloquy as De viiendo locu sacra. INTRODUCTION. XI which now even associations are formed. Those who have been to Jerusalem are called knights, and they call one another brothers, and on Palm-Smi- day seriously act a ridiculous farce, dragging along an ass with a rope, themselves being not much dif- ferent from the wooden beast they draw. Those who have been to Compostella imitate the same thing. Such performances may be allowed mdeed as an indulgence of men's fancies ; but it is not to be borne that they should claim any pious merit in them. In this colloquy those also are stigmatised who exliibit doubtful relics for real, who attri- bute to them greater value than they are worth, or sordidly manufactm*e them for gain." The present Editor does not put forth this book m any polemical spirit : though he is ready to avow his admiration of the constancy and perse- verance with which, in spite of every kind of dis- com'agement, Erasmus obeyed the command of his Lord and Master, Let your light shine be- fore MEN. The best answer to the enemies of Erasmus among his contemporaries, and to his de- XU INTROUrCTION. tractors of subsequent generations, is the constant progress in all the elements and cliaracteristics of civilisation observable in those countries into which the Reformation made its most successful advances ; and of that Reformation, though he did not person- ally join it, the Works of Erasmus nmst be re- gai'ded as among the most effectual pioneers : w^hilst in Catholic Spain the besotted multitude still drag the wooden ass of Compostella, and alas ! in Catholic Ireland they are still contented to grovel in the narrow Piu'gatory of Saint Patrick. The Editor would wish, however, to leave to others to draw their inferences. His object has been merely the illustration of a feature of our early rehgious history, in the most approved historical manner, that is to say, fi'om contem})orary som'ces of information, and accompanied by the citation of his authorities, lie leaves the facts thus collected to speak for themselves, and desires that they may receive that critical examination from his readers to which his own efforts have been directed, in order to place them on llic firm basis of historic truth. RASH VOWS; OR, PILGRIMAGES TO SACRED PLACES. Speakers, Arnold, Cornelius. Am. Thrice welcome, Cornelius ; we have missed you for this age, and were beginning to despair of your return. Where have you been travelling so long ? Corn. In hell ! Am. Well, you have come back so ragged, so thin, and so haggard, that one might suppose you were not far from the truth. Corn. Nay, I am returned from Jerusalem, not from the shades below. Am. What fate, or what wind, took you thither ? Corn. The same motive that takes others beyond number. Am. Their folly, as I think. Corn. So this reproach does not attach to me alone. Am. What did you purchase there ? Corn. Nothing but misery. XIV RASH VOWS; Am. You might have done that at home. But did you find anything that you considered worth seeing ? Corn. To own the truth candidly, scarcely anything. They show some monuments of antiquity, every one of which seemed to me deceptive, and invented to allure the simple and credulous. In fact I scarcely think they know for certain on what spot Jerusalem formerly stood. Ai^n. What then have you seen ? Corn. Great barbarism everywhere. Am. Do you return nothing holier ? Corn. Nay, many degrees worse. Am. More in cash, then ? Corn. No, poorer than Job. Am. Don't you repent having undertaken so long a pilgrimage to no purpose ? Corn. No : I neither blush, because I have so many companions of my folly ; nor do I repent, because now it would be useless. Am. Do you then bring back no advantages from so laborious a pilgrimage ? Corn. Much. Am. Well, then, what is it ? Corn. Why, I shall henceforth live more pleasantly. Am. Because, I suppose, it is delightful to remem- ber troubles that are past ? Corn. There is indeed something in that ; but still that is not all. Am. You look, then, for some further recompence ? OK, PILGRIMAGES TO SACRED PLACES. XV Corn. In truth, 1 do. Am. What is it ? tell rac. Corn. I shall be able, at all times, to afford great entertainment, both to myself and others, by ray marvel- lous stories, when recounting my travels at gossipings or feasts. Am. Forsooth, you are not far from the mark. Corn. Then I shall not derive less pleasure when I hear other men telling lies about things which they have never either heard or seen, a thing they do with such confidence, that when they make assertions more absurd than the Sicilian tales, yet they persuade even themselves that they are telling the truth. Aryi. An amazing satisfaction ! You will not en- tirely lose your oil and your labour, as they say. Corn. Nay, I make my calculations more advisedly than those who are tempted by a little money to enter upon a military campaign, that school of every wicked- ness. Am. But it is an illiberal pleasure to make a pastime of lying. Corn. But still it is somewhat more liberal than either to give or receive delight in slander, or to lose both your time and your substance at dice. Am. So far I must admit you are right- Corn. But there is still another good result. Am. What is that ? Com. If I have any friend especially dear to me, XVI RASH V()\V8; inclined to this madness, I shall counsel him to stay at home, as sailors after shipwreck are wont to admonish those who are about to sail of the dangers they ought to avoid. Am. I wish you had been my monitor at the proper time I Corn. What ? have you been seized with the same disease ? has the contagion reached you too ? Arn. I have visited Rome and Compostella. Corn. Good gracious ! what a comfort it is to me to find you a companion in my folly. What wiseacre put that in your head ? Arn. No wiseacre, but sheer stupidity; seeing that 1 had at home a wife as yet young, a few children, and a » household which was dependent upon me, and main- tained by my daily exertions. Corn. It must needs have been some powerful motive that could draw you away from your dearest ties. Say what it was, I beseech you. Arn. I am ashamed to mention it. Corn. Surely not to me, who, as you know, am a sufferer from the same disorder. Arn. Some of us neighbours were drinking together. When the wine had a little warmed us, there was one who announced that he was determined to salute Saint James, and another that he would salute Saint Peter. Upon that, one or another engaged to join company. At length, it was proposed that all should go together. OR, PILORIMAGES TO SACRED PLACES. XVll So, for fear 1 should appear a very shabby mess- mate, I promised that I would go too. Presently it began to be debated, which we should wend to, Rome or Compostella. At last, it was determined that, God willing, the next day we should set out for both. Corn. O sage resolve ! more worthy to be written in wine than in brass. Am. But presently a great mazar walked in, of which each drank in his turn, and the vow was made inviolable. Corn. A new kind of religion ! But say, were all blest with a safe return ? Am. All but three : of whom one dying on the way commissioned us to salute Peter and James in his name. Another we lost at Rome, and he desired that we should greet his wife and childx-en for him. The third we left behind at Florence, his recovery entirely despaired of.* I imagine he is now in heaven, * That this statement of the mortality among thie pilgrims is not exaggerated is shown by the following passage from the Diary of sir Richard Torkington, rector of Mulbarton in Norfolk, who made his pilgrimage to Jerusalem in the year 1517 : " The XXV. day of August, that was seynt Bertilmews day, the morue after seynt Bertilmew decessyd Robert Crosse of London pewterer, and was buryed in the chirche yard of Salyus [in the island of Cyprus] . And xxvij . day of August decessyd sir Thomas Toppe, a prest of the West countre, and was cast over the borde : as was many moo, whos soules God assoyle ! And thanne ther remayned in the sliippe iiij. Englyssh prestis moo." Gentleman's Magazine, vol. LXXXII. ii. 318. h XVIU KASH VOWS - 5 Corn. Was he, then, so pious ? ^rn. Nay, the greatest trifler imaginable. Corn. Whence, then, do you draw that conclusion ? Am. Because he had his satchel stuffed full of the most ample indulgences.* Corn. I understand ; but it is a long road to heaven, nor a very safe one, as I hear, on account of the high- waymen which infest the middle region of the firmament. Am. That is true ; but he was sufficiently provided with passports. Corn. Written in what language ? Am. The Roman. Corn. He is then safe ? Am. He is ; unless by ill-luck he should fall into the hands of a spirit that does not understand Latin : it will then be necessary for him to return to Rome, and obtain a new certificate. Corn. Are bulls sold there even to the dead ? Am. Oh ! most especially. Corn. But meanwhile I must give you a hint, not to make any inconsiderate remarks, for now every place abounds with tale-bearers. Am. Oh I I do not at all depreciate indulgences ; I * " Some redeemed for money great plenty of indulgences from Rome, and he that had the greatest plenty of them to be cast with him into his grave when he was buried (which I myself have seen done) was counted the best prepared for death." Sermon of Arch- bishop Grindal, in 1564. OR, PILGKIMAGES TO SACRED PLACES. XIX only smile at the folly of my pot-fellow, who, being in other respects the merest trifler, yet rested the stem and stern, as they say, of his salvation upon parchments, rather than in amendment of the heart. But when shall we enjoy that luxury we were just now talking of ? Corn. At the first opportunity we will arrange a little compotation ; we will invite some of our fellows, and then we will try which can tell the greatest marvels, and no doubt we shall be vastly delighted with our mutual performances. Am. Agreed. The author's defence of the preceding Colloquy, in his paper "De Utilitate Colloquioruin," dated at Basle, in May 1526, is as follows: — " The Colloquy on visiting Sacred Places checks the superstitious and extravagant fancy of certain people who imagine it the height of piety to have seen Jeru- salem : whither, over such wide distances of sea and land, run old bishops, leaving their flock, which ought to be tended ; thither go men of rank, deserting their families and their estates ; thither go husbands, whose children and wives require some guardian of their edu- XX Al'OLUGY FOK THE COLLOQUY cation and their modesty ; thither young men and women, not without great danger to their morals and chastity- Some even go again and again, and indeed do nothing else all their lives ; and all along the name of religion is given to superstition, love of change, folly, and rashness ; and a man who, contrary to the doctrine of Paul, deserts his own, will carry off the credit of sanctity, and flatter himself that he has fulfilled all the requirements of devo- tion. Paul, in the 1st Timothy, v. 11, plainly declares, If any one careth not for his own, and especially those of his household, he has denied the faith, and is worse than an unbeliever. And here Paul seems to speak of widows who neglected their children and grandchildren under the pretext of religion, and in order to attend to the services of the church. What would he then have said of husbands who, leaving tender children and a young wife, and that in poverty, undertake a journey to Jerusalem? " From many examples I will mention but one, neither so recent in date that I need fear to give offence, nor yet so old but that the generation is still living which cannot, from the greatness of the loss, forget the occurrence. A man of high rank had, with a pious intention, but little wisdom, determined to visit Jerusalem before his death. Having therefore made his arrangements, he committed to an archbishop, as to a parent, the care and protection of all his affairs, of his wife, then great with child, of his towns, and his castles. When the news was brought that this man liad died in his pilgrimage. ON PILGRIMAGES TO SACKED PLACES. XXl the archbishop, instead of a parent's, performed a robber's part. He occupied all the possessions of the deceased : last of all he reduced by force the strongest castle, into which the pregnant woman had fled for refuge, and, that no avenger might survive of so atrocious a deed, the lady, together with her promised offspring, was murdered on the spot. Would it not have been a pious work to have dissuaded a man so circumstanced from undertaking his dangerous and unnecessary jour- ney? " How many other examples of this kind might be found, I leave to others to ascertain : to say nothing meanwhile of the expenses, which, while we may allow them not to be entirely lost, yet no prudent man will deny that they might be bestowed on far better purposes. " But as for the religion of the matter. Saint Jerome commended Hilarion, because, though a native of Pales- tine, and resident in that country, yet he had visited Jerusalem but once, induced so to do by its vicinity, and that he might not seem to despise sacred places. If Hilarion was deservedly commended, that he stayed away from Jerusalem, near as he was, lest he should appear to confine the Deity within a narrow locality, and went there only once, being near the place, that he might not give any offence, what is to be said of those who out of England and Scotland, with such expenses, and through so many hazards, wend to Jerusalem ^ especially when they leave at home those dearest to them, to whom, according XX ii UASii vows. to the doctrine of the apostle, they owe a constant care ? Saint Jerome exclaims, It is no great thing to have been at Jerusalem ; but to have lived well is the great thing. And yet in the age of Jerome it is probable that much plainer remains of ancient monuments existed than are now to be found. " On Vows I leave the discussion to others : yet this Colloquy merely goes to show, that no one ought to un- dertake such vows rashly. This is proved by my words, ' Especially since I had at home a wife, as yet young, children, and a household that depended upon me, and was supported by my daily labour ;" and other passages which follow. On vows already taken, then, I will say nothing further, except that if I was the Pope I should not be obdurate in releasing those that are engaged by them. As for undertaking them, whilst I confess it is pos- sible that some may go to Jerusalem with pious ad- vantage, still I should not hesitate to counsel many, from regard to circumstances, to devote those expenses, time, and labour upon other things which more surely conduce to true piety. These sentiments I believe to be right: and therefore, considering the levity, or the ignorance, or the superstition of the multitude, it seemed proper to me to warn youth on this matter ; nor do I see whom this ad- monition ought to offend, except perhaps some of those to whom gain is dearer than godliness. " Nor do I there condemn Papal Indulgences or Bulls ; but I censure that greatest of triflers, who, thinking FArAL INDULGKNCES. XXlll nothing- of amendment of life, presumes to place his whole trust in human pardons. Whoever will here bo persuaded to consider, what a shipwreck of religion there is among mankind, partly from the vicious conduct of those who vend the I'apal Indulgences,* partly through the fault of such as accept them far differently than they ought to do, it will be allowed to be worth while to admonish youth on this matter. But this, I am told, is not very agreable to the proctors : my good fellow, if they are honest men, they will rejoice that the simple folk should be admonished ; but if gain is more sought by them than godliness, I take my leave of them ! " * See Chaucer's character of the Pardoner, a man of most aban- doned morals ; and so also a less known poet : Then preched a Pardoner, as he a prest were, Broughte forth a bulle with many bishopes seles, And seide that hymself myghte assoilen hem alle, Of falshod, of fastyngo, of avowes y-broken. Lewed men loved it wel, and liked hise wordes, Comen up knelynge to kissen hise bulles. He bouched him with his brevet and blered hire uighen, And raughte with his rageman rynges and broches. Thus thei gyven hire gold, glotons to kepe, &c. Vision of Piers Ploughman. / PILGRIMAGE FOR RELIGION'S SAKE. Tlie scene of the Colloquy is Antwerp, the Speakers Menedemus and Ogygius. Me. How comes this? Is not that my neigh- bour Ogygius, whom no one has seen for these six months? He was reported to be dead. It is the very man, miless I am completely deceived. I will go and speak to Imn. How are you, Ogygius ? Og. How are you, Menedemus ? Me. What country has restored you in safety to us? There was a sad rumour in circulation that you had gone the way of all flesh. Og. Nay, thank God ! I have meanwhile been so well, that I was scarcely ever better. Me. May you always refute such foolish reports in the same maimer ! But what means this ? You are covered with scallop shells, (1) stuck all over B 2 PILGRIMAGE FOR RELIGION'S SAKE. with leaden and tin figures, (2) adorned with straw necklaces, (3) and a bracelet of serpents' eggs. (4) Og. I have visited Saint James of Compo- stella(5); and, on my retm'n, the sea-side Virgin so famous with the English ; or rather I have re- visited her, for I had seen her tlu'ee years before. Me. From curiosity, I suppose? Og. Nay, fi'om motives of religion. Me. This religion, I suppose, has been taught you by Greek literature? (6) Og. My wife's mother had bound herself by a vow, that, if her daughter had a son born alive, I should in person salute Saint James, and offer our thanks. Me. Have you saluted the saint only in the name of yourself and your mother-in-law ? Og. Nay, with the devotions of the whole family. Me. I fancy not a whit less prosperity would have befallen the family if you had left James un- saluted. But, pray, what did he reply to the thanksgivcr? COMPOSTELLA. 6 Og. Notliing ; but wlien I made my offering he appeared to smile, and slightly bend his head, and at the same time he bestowed tliis scallop shell. Me. Why shoidd he give that rather than any thing else ? Og. Because the neighbouring sea brings him plenty of them. Me. Oh benignant saint! so serviceable to the ladies, and so generous to his guests ! But is not tliis a new kind of vow, that a person should do nothing himself, and impose the work upon others ? If you were to bind yourself by a vow, that if any tlmig you were about went on well / should fast twice a week, do you think I should perform your vow for you ? Og. I do not think you would, even if you made the vow in your own person ; for it seems a favourite sport with you to mock at the saints. But it was my mother-m-law's doing. The custom must be observed. You know women's fancies ; and, moreover, it concerned my own wel- fare. b2 4 PILGRIMAGE FOR RELIGION'S SAKE. Me. If you had not kept the vow, what danger would there have been ? Og. The saint could not have prosecuted me at law, I admit ; but he might have been deaf to my vows for the future, or he might silently have sent some calamity on my family. (7) You know the way with the great. Me. Tell me, how goes on that most worthy man James ? Og. Much colder than formerly. Me. What is the reason ? Old age ? Og. You trifler! you know the saints do not grow old. But this new doctrine, which is spread so widely through the world, makes hmi less fre- quently visited than of yore ; and those who come, salute him only ; they give nothing, or as httle as possible, saying that the money may be better spent upon the poor. Me. Impious opinion ! Og. And thus so great an apostle, who was wont to glitter all jewels and gold, now stands a bare block ; with scarcely a tallow candle to light liim ! BASLE. 5 Me. If tliis be true, there is some danger lest the same should befall the other saints. Og. Yes ; an epistle is carried about, which the Virgm Mary herself has written on tliis matter. Me. WliichMary? Og. She who is named a Lapide. Me. At Basle, (8) if I am not mistaken ? Og. The same. Me. So you tell me of a stone saint. But to whom has she written ? Og. The letter itself gives the name. Me. By whom was it sent ? Og. No doubt by the angel who wrote and placed it in the pulpit from which the preacher it is addressed to holds forth. You must not suspect any deception, for I can show you the autograph epistle. Me. Can you then recognise the handwriting of the angel who serves the Virgin as secretary ? Og. Wliynot? Me. How then ? Og. I have read the epitaph of Beda, wliich PILGRIMAGE FOR RELIGION'S SAKE. was engraved by the angel: (9) the characters agi'ee tlu'oughout. And I have read the scroll sent to Samt Giles: (10) the resemblance is exact. Are not these sufficient proofs ? Me. May one look at it? Og. You may, if you will swear to secrecy. Me. Oh, you might as safely speak to a stone. Og. But now there are even stones that have the bad character of concealing nothing. (11) Me. Speak then to a dumb man, if you can scarcely trust a stone. Og. I will read it on this condition, that you listen with both ears. Me. I will. Og. " Mary the Mother of Jesus greets Glau- coplutus. Be it known to you, that you have advanced greatly in my favour, inasmuch as, fol- lowing Luther, you earnestly argue that it is a work of supererogation to invoke the saints. For before this I have been plagued to death with the impertinent suppHcations of mortals. All things were demanded of me alone, as if my Son were BASLE. 7 always an infant, because he is represented and painted so in my arms, and still hanging on his mother's breast; and as if he did not venture to deny any petition, for fear I should m turn refuse my nourislunent to him. And sometimes they would even make such requests to a vu'gin, as no youth of any modesty would venture to put to a bawd, and wliicli I am ashamed to conunit to writmg. Meantime the merchant, preparing to sail into Spain for liis trade, conunends to my charge the vu-tue of liis mistress. And the professed nun, at the moment that she casts aside her veil in preparation for flight, conunits to me the care of her reputation, which she herself is about to throw away. The godless soldier, when led to the slaugh- ter, cries out to me. Blessed Virgin, grant me a rich booty ! The gamester exclaims. Favour me, oh goddess, and part of the gain shall be yours. And if the dice favour them but little, they tear me wuth then' reproaches, and foully curse that I was not the abettor of their wickedness. One who is projectuig some base speculation exclaims, 8 PILGRIMAGE FOR RELIGION'S SAKE. Graiit a hu'ge profit ! If I at all refuse, tliey ex- postulate, saying, Then you cannot be the Mother of Mercy ! Others' vows are not so iinpious as they are foolish. The maid cries, Mary, give me a handsome and rich husband ! The wife cries. Give me fine childi'en ! The lady with child cries. Grant me a happy time ! The old woman cries. Grant I may live long without cough and tliirst! The silly old man cries, Make me young again ! The philosopher cries, Grant that I may weave indis- soluble i^'oblems! The priest cries. Give me the best benefice ! The bishop cries, Take care of my church ! The sailor cries, Grant me prosperous voyages! The abbat cries. Shew me thy Son before I die ! The courtier cries. Grant me clean confession at the hour of death ! The countryman cries, Send seasonable showers ! The country- woman cries. Keep our flocks and herds in safety ! If I deny anything I am immediately cruel. If I refer them to my Son, I hear. He wills whatever thou wilt ! Thus I alone, a woman and a virgin, ain to give hel|) to sailors and soldiers, traders and BASLE. 9 gamesters, maids and mothers, courtiers, kings, and liusbancbnen. But what 1 have already told is the least of what I suffer. Now indeed I am much less troubled with these matters ; and on that ac- count I should render you the greatest thimks, if this convenience did not bring a greater mconve- nience with it. There is now more ease, but less honour and less profit. Formerly I was addressed as the Queen of Heaven, the Lady of the World : now I scarcely hear from a few a single ' Ave Mai'ia.' Formerly I was clothed with jewels and gold, I abounded in presents, my offerings were of gauds and gems : now I am scarcely covered with half a petticoat, and that eaten by the mice. My yearly revenue is barely sufficient to keep a wretched attendant to lio-lit me a tallow candle or taper. And even this might be borne, if worse was not tlu'eatened. You go so far, they say, as to drive out of the chui'ches whatever belongs to the saints. Again and again take care what you do ! There is not one of the other saints who cannot revenge himself. Peter, if tiu'ned out of the chui'ch. 10 P1LGKI31AGE FOK KELIGION's SAKE. can ill turn lock the doors of lieaven against you. Paul caiTies a sword. (12) Bartholomew is anned with a knife. William under liis monk's gown is entirely armed, and not without a heavy spear. (13) And how can you encounter George the knight on horseback, formidable both with his spear and his sword ? Nor is Anthony defenceless : he has his sacred fire. (14) And the rest have either their weapons, or their calamities, which they can inflict on whom they will. But me, although unarmed, you cannot cast forth, miless at the same time you cast out my Son, whom I bear in my arms. From him I will not allow myself to be torn away ; either you tm'ii him out together with me, or you must retain both, unless you would have the church with- out Clirist. " So much I wished you to understand ; and you must consider what answer to make me; for the matter is very much at my heart. — From my stone house, on the kalends of August, in the year of my Son's passion 1524, I the Virgin have signed this with my sUme hand." WALSINGIIAM. 1 1 Me. A very threatening and formidable ejiistlc ! Glaucoplutus, I think, must take care. Og. If he is wise. Me. Why has not that excellent James written on the same subject? Og. I know not ; imless it is that he is further off, and in these times all letters are intercepted. Me. But what fate carried you back into Eng- land? Og. A wonderfully favourable wind invited me thither, and I was almost pledged to the sea-side Virgin, that I would revisit her after two years. Me. What to seek of her ? Og. Nothing new: only those usual petitions, the health of my family, the increase of my estate, a long and happy life in tliis world, and eternal happiness in the next. Me. Could not our own Virgui Mother bestow the same ? She has at Antwerp a far more magni- ficent chm'ch than that at Walsingham. Og. I do not deny she might; but in various places she grants various things, whether because 12 PILGRIMAGE FOR RELIGION'S SAKE. she so thinks proper, or, as she is kind, because in tliis she acconunodates herself to our desires. Me. I have often heard about Jaines; but, I pr'y-thee, describe to me the domain of this sea-side samt. Og. I will gratify you as briefly as I can. It is the most celebrated place tlu'oughout all England, nor could you easily find in that island the man who ventures to reckon on prosperity, imless he yearly salute her with some small offermg accorcUng to his ability. Me. Where dweUs she? Og. At the extreme coast of England on the north-west, (15) at about tlu*ee miles' distance from the sea. It is a town mauitained by scarcely any- tliing else but the number of its visitors. (16) It is a coUege of canons, but of those which the Church of Rome terms regular, a middle kuid between the monks and those termed secular canons. Me. You describe amphibious animals, such as the beaver. Og. Yes, and the crocodile. But, without fur- WALSINGHAM. 13 ther cavil, I will give you some notion of them in three words. In tilings disallowed they are canons, m tilings allowed they are monks. Me. You still speak to me in riddles. Og. But you shall have a mathematical demon- stration. If the Roman pontiff were to lamicli his thunderbolts agamst all monks, then they would be canons, and not monlvs ; but, if he were to allow all monks to take wives, then they would be monks. Me. Oh what new privileges ! I wish they would take mme ! Og. But to proceed. This college has scarcely any other resources than from the bounty of the Virgin. (17) For, though the larger offerings are preserved, all that is in money, or of inferior value, falls to the sustenance of the flock, and of their head, whom they call the Prior. Me. Are they of good reputation ? Og. They are highly spoken of ; richer in piety than in revenue. The chvu'ch is graceful and elegant ; but the Virgin does not occupy it ; she cedes it, out of deference, to her Son. She has 14 IMLGimiAOE FOR RELIGION'S SAKE. her u\Mi cliurch, that she may be on her Son's right hand. Me. On liis right hand ? To wliich pomt then looks her Son? Og. Well thought of. When he looks to the west, he has his Mother on his right hand. When he turns to the sun-rising, she is on the left. Yet she does not even occupy this ; for the building is unfinished, and it is a place exposed on all sides, with open doors and open wmdows, and near at liand is the ocean, the father of the winds. Me. It is liard. Where then does the Virgin dwell ? Og. Within the clnu'ch which I have called mi- finished is a small chapel, made of wainscot, and ad- mitting the devotees on each side by a narrow little door. The light is small, indeed scarcely any but from the wax-lights. A most grateful fragrance meets the nostrils. Me. All these tilings accord with religion. Og. Nay, when you look in, Menedemus, you would say it was the mansion of the saints, so much WALSINGHAM. 15 does it glitter on all sides with jewels, gold, and silver. Me. You make me lono; to so there. Og. You would not repent your jouniev. Me. Is there no sacred oil there ? Og. You sunpleton ! That oil does not exude except from the tombs of the saints, as Ancb-ew and Katharine. (18) Mary was not buried. (19) Me. I forgot myself, I admit. But finish your story. Og. The wider rehgion extends itself, the greater the variety of tilings shown in various places. Me. And perhaps that the return may be the richer ; according to the proverb — When many bands are on the plain The booty's quickly sought and ta'en. Og. And showmen are always at hand. Me. Were they some of the canons ? Og. By no means : they are not required, lest by occasion of rehgion they should be aUenated from religion; and, while they minister to the Virgin, should too little regard their own virginity. Onlv, 16 PILGRIMAGE FOR RELIGION'S SAKE. in tliL' inner chapel, which I hiivc described as the shruie of the lioly Virgin, one canon attends the altar. Me. For what purpose ? Og. That he may receive and take chai'ge of" what is given. Me. Must those give who are not inclined ? Og. Not at all ; but a kind of pious shame brmgs some to the point, that they give if any one is stand- ing by, though they would not if no observer was present; or, at least, they give somewhat more largely than they would otherwise have done. Me. You describe a very natural feeling, and one wliich I have often noticed. Og. Nay, but there are those so devoted to the most holy Virgin, that, whilst they feign that they are themselves going to place an offering on her altar, with wondei'ful dexterity they filch away what some one else has placed there. Me. Suppose no one was on the watch, still would not the Virgin immediately launch forth her vengeance u[)on such ? WALSINGHAM. 1 7 Of/. Why sliould the Virgin do that, any more than the Heavenly Father hiinselt"? whom some are not afraid to despoil of his ornaments, and even break through the chm'ch wall for the purpose. 3fe. I camiot satisfy myself, whether one should be most astonished at their impious audacity, or at the forbearance of the Deity. Og. On the north side there is a gate, — not of the church, I must tell you, but of the exterior wall with wliich tlie whole precmct of the church is inclosed. It has a very small wicket, such as is seen ui the gates of noblemen, so that any one wanting to enter is obhged first to subject his limbs to attack, and then must also stoop his head. Me. It would not be very safe for an enemy to enter by such a wacket. Og. You are right. Our reverend guide related that once a knight, seated on his horse, escaped by this door from the hands of his enemy, who was at the time closely pressuig upon him. The wretched man, thuikmg himself lost, by a sudden aspiration commended his safety to the Virgm, who \ 18 PILGRIMAGE FOR RELIGION'S SAKE. was SO near : tor he liacl determined to fly to her altar, if the gate had been open. And lo ! the un- heard-of occiuTence! On a sudden the man and horse were together witliin the precincts of the church, imd the pursuer fruitlessly storming without. Me. And did he make you swallow such a won- derful stoiy? Og. Unquestionably. Me. That could not be very easy with such a philosopher as you. Og. He pointed out a brass plate nailed to the gate, representing the knight who was saved, attired in the fashion then usual in England, and which we now see in old pictures ; according to which, the barbers of that age must have starved, and also the weavers and dyers. (20) Me. Why so ? Og. Because he had a beard as long as a goat's, and all his dress had not a wrinkle ; so tightly was it fitted, that it seemed to contract his body. There was also anotlier plate, showing the figure and size of the opening. Page 18 V^/i (Sec note ncft^ in p. 86.) WALSINGHAM. 19 Me. It would be wrong to doubt any longer. Og. Under the wicket was an iron grating, al- lowing only a foot-man to pass ; as it Avould not be proper that any horse should again tread the spot, which the former horseman had consecrated to the Virgm. Me. Right enough. Og. To the east of this is a chajjcl full of won- ders. Thither I go. Another guide receives me. There we worshipped for a short time. Presently the joint of a man's finger is exliibited to us, the largest of three : I kiss it ; and then I ask. Whose rehcs were these? He says, St. Peter's. The apostle? I ask. He said. Yes. Then, observing the size of the joint, which might have been that of a giant, I remarked, Peter must have been a man of very large size. At this one of my companions burst mto a laugh ; wliich I certauily took ill, for if he had been quiet the attendant would have shown us all the relics. However, we pacified hun by of- fering a few pence. Before the chapel was a shed, which they say was suddenly, in the winter season, C2 20 PILGRIMAGE FOR RELIGION'S SAKE. when everytliiiig was covered with snow, brought tliithor fi'om a great distance. (21) Under this shed are two wells, full to the brink ; (22) they say the spring is sacred to the holy Virgin. The water is wonderfully cold, and efficacious in curing the pains of the head and stomach. Me. If cold water can cure the pams of the head and stomach, very soon oil will extinguish fire. Og. You are told a miracle, my good fellow : for what miracle woiild there be if cold water merely satisfied thirst? And this is only one part of the story. They affinn that the spiing suddenly burst from the earth at the command of the most holy Virgin. Whilst looking around carefully at every- thuig, I asked how many years it might be since that little house was brought thither : he answered. Some centuries. " But the walls," I remarked, " do not bear any signs of age." He did not dispute the matter. " Nor even the wooden posts : " he allowed that they had been recently put up, and indeed they spoke for themselves. " Then," I said, " the roof and thatch up[)car to be new." He agreed. " And WALSINGHAM. 2 1 not even these cross-beams," I said, " nor the rafters, seem to have been erected for many years." He assented. " But," I said, " as now no part of the old building remains, how do you prove that this was the cottage which was brought from a great distance?" Me. Pray how did your conductor extricate liimself from tliis difficulty ? Og. Why, he immediately showed us a very old bear's skin fixed to the rafters ; (23) and almost ridi- culed om' duhiess in not havino; observed so mani- fest a proof. Thus convinced, and asking pardon for our slowness of apprehension, we turned towards the heavenly Milk of the blessed Virgin. Me. Oh mother most imitative of her Son ! He has left us so much of his Blood upon earth ; (24) she so much Milk, as it is scarcely credible should have belonged to a single woman with one child, even if the infant had taken none of it ! Og. They make the same remarks of our Lord's cross, (25) which is shown privately and publicly in so mmiy places, that, if the fragments were brought 22 PILGRIMAGE FOR RELIGION'S SAKE. together, they would suffice to freight a merchant- ship ; and yet our Lord bore the whole of his cross. Me. Does not this seem inexplicable to you also ? Og. It may perhaps be called wonderful, but not inexplicable; since our Lord, who increases these things at his will, is omnipotent. Me. You accomit for it very piously : but I fear that many such tilings are fabricated for lucre. Og. I caraiot think that God woidd suffer him- self to be mocked in that maimer. Me. Not ! whilst the Mother, and the Son, and the Father, and the Holy Ghost are alike robbed by the sacrilegious, and do not even disturb themselves so much as to drive away the wretches even by a nod or a mmnnur ? So great is the forbearance of the Deity. Og. So it is : but hear the rest. That Milk is kept on the high altar, in the centre of which is Christ; at his right hand, for honour's sake, his Mother ; for the Milk personifies the Mother. Me. It can be easily seen then ? 0f the 38 PILGRIMAGE FOR RELIGION'S SAKE. toad does not project, but slimes as if inclosed in the jewel itself. Me. Perhaps they iniaguie the likeness of a toad, as on cutting the root of fern we iniao-ine an eagle. And as bojs, what do they not see hi the clouds ? draijons breathino!; flames, momitains burn- ing with fire, armies rushing to battle. Og. No, you may be assured that no hving toad shews itself more })lainly than it was expressed there. Me. So far 1 have borne with \o\xv tales ; but now you must find some one else to swallow the toad. 0(j. 1 am not surjjrised, Menedemus, that you are so disposed. No one would have persuaded me, even if a whole college of divmes had asserted it, unless Avith these eyes, these very eyes I say, I had seen it, examined it, and proved it. But still you seem to me to be very miskilled in natural history. Me. Why so ? Because I do not believe that asses fly ? Og. Are you not aware how the hand of Nature sjtorts in the representation of the colours and shapes WAL SINGH AM. 39 of all tilings, not only in her other works, but par- ticularly in precious stones ? Then what wonder- ful powers has she bestowed upon those stones, ut- terly incredible, unless experience had practically given us faith ! Tell me, wotdd you believe that steel untouched would be attracted by the magnet, and again be repelled by the same, imless you had seen it with yoiu* eyes ? Me. No mdeed, although ten Aristotles had sworn it. Og. You must not, then, pronounce e^'erytlling fabulous that you have not abeady ascertained by your own experience. In ceraunia we see the resemblance of lightning ; in pyropus living flames ; in chatazia both the appearance and the cold of hail, even if you cast it into the midst of the fire; in the emerald the deep and pellucid waves of the sea ; the carcinias imitates the form of a sea-crab, the cepites that of a serpent, the scarites of a fish, the hieracites of a hawk ; the geranites shows the mimic head of a crane; the segophthalmus shows a goat's eye ; there is one which has a pig's eye. 40 I'lLGKIMAGE FOR RELIGION'S SAKE. another tlu-ee lumian eyes together ; the lyco})hthal- nius has a wolfs eye pauited in four coloiu's, — fiery- reel anil sanguine, and in the midst black bordered witli white : if you open a black cyamea you find in the middle a bean ; the dryites imitates the trmik of a tree, and also bmnis like wood; cissites and narcissites represent ivy; astrapias casts rays of lightning from a white or aziu-e centre ; phlegonites shows a fire within, which cannot come forth ; in anthracites you may see some sparks shoot out; crocias gives the colour of the crocus, rhodites of the rose, chalcites of brass; aetites resembles an eagle with a fiery tail ; taos has the figm-e of a pea- cock; chelidonia of an asp; myrmecites has the figm-e of a creei^ing ant within it ; cantharias exhi- bits an eJitire beetle; scorpites wonderfully repre- sents a scorpion. But wliy should I pursue these things, which are injuunerable, wliilst there is no part of natm-e, either in the elements, or in animals, or in ])lants, Avhich she, as if in wantonness, has not imitated in stones? Do you wonder, then, that a toad is figured in this gem ? WAL8INGHA.M. 4 1 Me. I wonder that Nature should find sufficient leisure so to sport in the imitation of everything. Og. She wished to exercise the ingenuity of the hiunan intellect, and even thus to (h'ive us from idleness. And yet, as if there was nothing with which we could beguile the tedium of time, we go mad upon buffoons, upon dice, or upon fortune- tellincj. Me. Your sentmients are perfectly just. Og. It is added by some who are not of light authority, that if you apply vmegar to this kind of stones, the figures are seen to move then' limbs as if swimmuig about Me. Why do they attach a toad to the Virgm ? Og. Because all filthiness, malice, pride, ava- rice, and whatever belongs to hmnan passions, has been by her subdued, trodden mider foot, and ex- tinguished. Me. Alas for us who bear such a toad in our breasts ! Og. We shall be piu'e, if we diligently worsliip the Vh'gin. 42 PILGRIMAGE FOR RELIGION'S SAKE. Me. How does she delight to be worshi|)j)ed ? Og. You would pay her the most acceptable worship if you were to imitate her. Me. You have s})oken most judiciously. But that is very difficult. Og. It assm-edly is, but at the same time most excellent. Me. Come, finish your story. Og. He then exhibited the golden and silver statues. " This one," says he, " is entirely gold; this is silver gilt ; " he added the weight of each, its value, and tlic name of the donor. (.37) When, wonder- ing at everything I saw, I was congratulating the Virgin on her fortunate opulence, the reverend showman says to me, " Since I see you are a pious spectator, I should not think it right to conceal anything from you; you shall see the Virgin's most secret treasures;" and at the same time he drew forth from the altar itself a world of admirable things, the individual articles of which, if I were to proceed to describe, this day would not suflSce for the relation. So that pilgi'image terminated most WALSINGIIAM. 43 fortimately for me. I was aljiuidautly gi*atified with sights ; and 1 bring away this mestimable gift, a token bestowed by the Vii'gm herself. Me. Have you made no trial of the powers of your wood ? Og. I have : in an imi, before the end of tlu'ee days, I fomid a man afflicted in mind, for whom chains were then in preparation. Tliis piece of wood Avas placed under liis pillow, miknowai to liimself : he fell mto a sleep equally deep and prolonged ; in the morning he arose of whole mmd. Me. Perhaps it was not madness, but drunken- ness only. That malady is wont to be cured by sleep. Og. When you feel incluied to jest, Menedemus, take care to choose some other subject ; to jest upon the samts is neither pious nor safe. Nay, the man himself related, that he had seen in his sleep a woman of admirable beauty, Avho presented to luin a cup. Me. It was hellebore, I imagme. Og. What it was is micertain ; but this is most certain, that the man's reason is restored. 44 PILGRIMAGE FOR RELIGION'S SAKE. Me. Have vou passed in neglect Tii03iAS of Canterbury, the Archbishop? Og. The very last I should neglect. No pilgri- mage is in higher estimation. Me. I am desirous to hear about it, if it is not troublesome. Og. Nay, I shall be gTatified by your listening. That part of England which is opposite to France and Flanders is called Kent. Its chief city is Can- terbuiy. In this city there are tvvo monasteries nearly contiguous, each following the rule of Sauit Benedict. That which is dedicated to Samt Au- gustine seems the older ; the other, which is now called Saint Thomas's, (38) appears to have been the see of the archbishop, ^vhere with a few chosen monks he passed his life, as prelates still have houses near to the chm-ch, but separate from the houses of the other canons. For formerly almost all bishops and canons were alike monks. That is evi- denced by clear remains of antiquity. But the church dedicated to Saint Thomas erects itself to heaven with such majesty that even from a dis- CANTERBURY. 45 tance it strikes relig-ious aAve into the beholders. So now with its spleiKk)m* it dazzles the eyes of its neighhom-, and as it were casts into the shade a place which was anciently most sacred. There ai*e two vast towers, that seem to salute the visitor from afar, and make the surrounding comitry far and wide resomid with the wonderfid booming of their brazen bells. In the porch of the chui'ch, wdiich is towards the south, are stone statues of the tlu'ee knights who with impious hands murdered the most holy man : their family names are inscribed — Tuscus, Fuscus, and Bei-rus. (39) Me. Why is so much honour bestowed on the impious ? Og. The same degi*ee of honour is bestowed upon them which is bestowed on Judas, Pilate, Caiphas, and the band of wicked soldiers, which you see laboriously scul})tured on golden altars. Their names are added, that the guilt of their crime should ever attach to them. They ai'c thrust for- ward into sight, that no courtier shoidd hereafter lay his hands upon bishops, or ujion the proj^erty of 46 I'lLGllIMAGE FOR RELIGION'S SAKE. the church. For those tliree courtiers, after the perpetration of their crime, were seized with mad- ness, iior were they restored to reason until the in- tercession of tlie most holy Thomas had Ijeen im- plored. Me. Oh the unfailing clemency of the martyrs ! Og. On your entrance, the edifice at once dis- plays itself in all its spaciousness and majesty. To that part any one is admitted. Me. Is nothincf to be seen there? Og. Nothuig, except the magnitude of the structure, and some books fixed to the pillars, (40) among which is the Gospel of Nicodemus, (41) and the monument of I know not who. Me. What comes next? 0(/. The iron screens stop further progress, Ijut yet admit a view of the whole space from the choir to the end of the churcli. To the choir you mount by many steps, under wliich is a ])assage leading to the north. At that spot is shown a wooden altar, dedicated to tlie lioly Virgin, but mean, nor rr'mnrka})l(! I?i any res])ect, unless as a momunent of CANTERBURY. 47 antiquity, putting to slianie the extravagance of these times. There the pious man is said to liave breathed his last farewell to the Virgm, when his death was at hand. (42) On the altar is the point of the sword (43) with wliich the head of the most excellent prelate was cleft, and his brahi stirred, that he might be the more instantly despatched. The sacred rust of this iron, through love of the martyr, w-e religiously kissed. Leavmg this spot, we descended to the crypt. (44) It has its own priests. There was first exhibited the perforated skull of the martyr ; (45) the forehead is left bare to be kissed, whilst the other parts are covered with silver. At the same time is shown a slip of lead, engraved w ith liis name, thomas aceensis. (46) There also hang in the dark the hair shirts, (47) the gu'dles, and bandages, with which that prelate subdued his flesh ; strikmg horror with their very appearance, and re- proaching us for our mdulgence and our luxm'ies. Me. And perhaps reproachmg even the moiilvs. Og. That I am neither able to assert nor to deny ; nor indeed is it any business of mine. 48 PILGRIMAGE FOR RELIGION'S SAKE. Me. You say very true. Og. From hence Ave returned into the chou'. On the north side the armaries were unlocked: it is wonderful to tell what a cpantity of bones was there brouolit out, — sculls, jaw-bones, teeth, hands, fingers, entire arms; on all which we devoutly bestowed our kisses; and the exliibition seemed likely to last for ever, if my somewhat mimanage- able companion in that })i]grimage had not inter- rupted the zeal of the showman. (48) Me. Who was he ? 0(j. An Englishman, named Gratian Black, (49) a learned and jjious man, but not so well affected towards this part of religion as I could wish. Me. Some Wicklifhte, I suppose. V(j. 1 do not tliinlv so; although he had read WicklifFe's books ; wliere he got them I cannot say. Me. Did he offend the priest? Og. When an arm was brought forward which had still the bloody flesh adhering to it, he drew back from kissing it, and even betrayed some signs of weariness. The priest ])resently shut up CANTERBUKV. 49 his treasures. We next viewed the table of the altar and its ornaments, and then the articles which are kept luider the altar, all most sumptuous; you wovdd say that ]\Iidas and Croesus were beg- gars, if you saw" that vast assemblage of gold and silver. Me. Was there no kissmg here ? Og. No ; but another kind of sentiment came across my mind. Me. What was that ? Og. I sighed that I had no such relics at home. Me. What an impious thought ! Og. I confess it, and I devoutly prayed the samt for pardon before I moved a step from the church. After this, we were led into the sacristy. (50) Good God I what a display was there of silken vest- ments, what an array of golden candlesticks! (51) There we saw the pastoral staff of Saint Thomas. It appeared to be a cane covered with silver plate ; it was of very little weight, and no workmanship, nor stood higher than to the waist (52) Me. Was there no cross? (53) 50 PILGRIMAGE FOR RELIGION'S SAKE. Ocj. I saw none. A pall was shown, wliicli, thoiiiili wholly of silk, w^as of a coarse texture, and unadorned with gold or jewels. There was also a sudary, dirty fi'om wear, and retaining manifest stains of blood. These monuments of the simplicity of ancient times we willmgly kissed. Me. Are not they shown to anybody ? Og. By no means, my good friend. Me. Whence then was such confidence reposed in you that no secret thiiig Avas reserved ? Og. I had some acquaintance with the reverend father William Warham, the archbishop ; (54) he had given me a note of mtroduction. Me. I hear fi'om many that he is a man en- dowed with singular courtesy. Og. You would rather say that he is courtesy itself, if you knew him. He has such learning, such simplicity of manners, such piety of life, that you would find him deficient in no quality of a per- fect prelate. — From this place, then, we were con- ducted back to the upper floor, for behind the high altar y