The number, riches, and influence of these ecclesiastical establishments were enormous. At the end of the thirteenth century, there were six hundred monasteries and convents in England, two thousand three hundred and thirty-seven in France, and fifteen hundred in the remaining countries of Europe. Many of these supported communities of more than a thousand monks; that of the great Abbey of Bangor--the largest in Great Britain--numbered three thousand. Towns, villages, and immense tracts of arable soil, pasture, and forest were included in their possessions. Multitudes of tenants and vassals tilled these lands, the lion’s share of whose produce found its way into the storehouses and granaries of the prosperous Fathers. The religious duties of the latter did not hinder them from profiting by the advantages of domestic and foreign trade. They bought and sold almost every description of merchandise. The usurious rates of interest which they obtained from necessitous borrowers extorted the admiration of the shrewd and experienced Hebrew broker. They managed tanneries, dealt extensively in cloth and leather, and imported many luxuries from the Orient. The wool market of England was absolutely controlled by them. The popular clamor aroused by this monopoly, which dispossessed and ruined tenants by turning tillable land into pasture and depriving large numbers of industrious people of the means of livelihood, contributed, in no small degree, to the suppression of the English monasteries. An inexhaustible mine of wealth was made available by traffic in relics and the entertainment and fleecing of pilgrims. The methods of the Holy See in the sale of sacred objects of more than doubtful authenticity were improved upon by the cunning and audacity of monkish charlatans. Immense quantities of bones were imported from Italy and disposed of to the devout at fabulous prices. Most of these sacred treasures were taken from the catacombs, where was deposited a practically unlimited supply of Pagan and barbarian skeletons, whose original owners never dreamed of the adoration they were destined one day to receive on the banks of the Thames, the Seine, the Rhine, and the Danube. When a church was to be constructed, no difficulty was ever experienced in procuring the relics of the saint to which it was dedicated, and the mouldering remains of some priest of Jupiter or Venus were probably not infrequently laid, with every token of reverence, under the altar of a magnificent cathedral, whose idolatrous ceremonies would have presented many striking points of resemblance with heathen rites to the frequenters of the ancient temples. Other sacred mementos of equal virtue often presented a singular mixture of absurdity and blasphemy. The reproductions of the crown of thorns and the nails of the Crucifixion were infinite in number. The list included the coals that roasted St. Lawrence, the cloth used at the Lord’s